No imagination required…

Aug 6, 2021 | Hope & Encouragement, Sacred Stories, Sovereignty, Women's Voice & Power

There’s a story I love to tell of a mostly unknown woman named Jael. She singlehandedly won a huge battle for a whole tribe of people by doing the most unlikely and shocking thing. In the thick of the fighting, she offered the enemy commander (who was sneaking away) a safe place to hide, made him comfortable, and then, as he slept, drove a tent peg through his head and killed him. 

It’s a violent story, to be sure. (Which explains why it’s rarely told.) But just imagine if it had been, if she was known; if she was known by you…

  • Imagine if you had been been lulled to sleep by the tale of a shockingly brave woman who overcame every fear and did what had to be done – no matter what others thought, expected, or allowed.
  • Imagine if you’d had a model, a template, a subconscious plot line within that invited and compelled courage, boldness, and strength.
  • Imagine if it never crossed your mind to choose being good over being right.
  • Imagine if you had no idea what seen-not-heard even meant.
  • Imagine if  you never compromised yourself on behalf of another.
  • Imagine if no part of you held back, played it safe, or waited to be invited into the, arena onto the stage, or out of the shadows. 

Hard to imagine, isn’t it? 

What if it wasn’t? What if we just knew who we were – our strength, our wisdom, our  divinity, our sovereignty? No questions asked. No doubt. No wondering. Clear. Certain. Sure. Solid. 100% ourselves.

This is, at least in part, why stories like Jael’s matter. She moves us from *simply* imagining that kind of strength and courage to actually acknowledging it – to living it.

So, no imagination required – hear Jael’s voice on your behalf:

This I know – no imagination required: You are braver, stronger, and wiser than anyone knows, than even you know. 

This I know – no imagination required: You fight for what you love, for what matters most, for your very self – as your hands shake and your voice trembles and your heart races. Still and always – brave, strong, and wise. Still and always – bringing victory and peace. Still and always – worthy of endless song and celebration. 

This I know – no imagination required: I am Jael and you are my daughter, my lineage, my kin. 

She knows of what she speaks…

May it be so.

***** 

This I know – no imagination required: You are surrounded and supported, held and honored by more than just Jael. (Though she’s something, isn’t she?) Countless ancient, sacred women with stories and voices that remind you of who you truly are: brave, strong, and wise. Sovereign.  

I retell, reimagine, and redeem these stories – Jael’s and many more – in SOVEREIGNTY – my live, 9-week program. And companioning the stories is powerful and practical content about hearing and trusting your own wisdom, acknowledging your agency, stepping into courage, and holding on to hope. Every bit of this on behalf of you being 100% yourself, 100% of the time. No imagination required!

Registration is open for the cohort that begins in early September. Learn more. Apply today. Join me! 

Steps that count vs. counting steps

May 3, 2021 | Hope & Encouragement, My sort-of Sermons, Sovereignty, Women's Wisdom

I have an Apple Watch that I rarely wear. It enables me to count my steps which, on good days, encourages me, but on less-than-good ones has me feeling less-than-good about myself, even though I did take steps, did actually move, did get up from my desk at least a few times! Still, it’s this latter reality that keeps me from wearing the watch at all.

I don’t like feeling like the steps I have taken don’t count. 

It strikes me that courage is a lot like this:

On good days, I’m more than happy to count all the ways that I’ve demonstrated it, held fast to it, remained committed. I can see the ways in which it is moving me toward my goals…and then some. But on less-than-good days I can’t take much pleasure in any steps…even though they absolutely exist because they don’t seem like enough, I’ve not taken enough of them, they’re not spectacular or Watch-worthy!

*sigh*

We often feel like courage has to be ginormous, amazing, bigger than life, cliff-jumping-esque. Certainly, such displays and experiences of courage do exist. But if they become the standard (like the bare-minimum of 10k steps), we become disheartened by anything less; worse, we become disappointed in ourselves.

So, what’s the alternative? What’s the non-Apple-Watch version of courage?

Any step at all matters, even (and maybe especially) the tiniest and most incremental.

Tiny steps of courage make an amazing difference and enable the kind of ongoing movement, transformation, and change you desire and deserve.

An example:

I used to get super-irritated at myself when I wouldn’t just say what I actually felt, speak my mind, tell my truth. I spent an inordinate amount of time in my head – spinning about with thoughts like:

  • If I say what I actually think and feel, all hell will break loose. (But wait! This IS what I think and feel! Shouldn’t I be able to express that, no matter what?)
  • They won’t be able to handle it – or me. (If they can’t handle me, why is that my problem?)
  • It’s only going to make things worse; I need to figure out another way through this issue or problem or reality. (Why am I still deliberating about this? Really?!?)

And this spinning, this craziness? Milliseconds. The list was far longer, believe me – and endlessly on repeat.

One day I decided to experiment with something, just a little thing, the tiniest promise to myself:

Just one time today, you will tell the truth. Just one time today you will align your inner thoughts with your outer words/actions. Just once. That’s all. Nothing more is required. 

Amazingly, I did it! And miracle of miracles, the world did not come crashing down around me. Some days were harder than others, to be sure, but still, I survived them. And even more amazing? Over time I realized that I my capacity to demonstrate courage was building, getting stronger – like a muscle. Those tiniest of steps began to add up. And what at one time had looked like an uncrossable chasm, eventually just required one more tiny step to now be on the other side.

What if you experimented? What if you made a promise to yourself? What if you chose the tiniest, seemingly inconsequential step and then repeated it day after day after day?

That, dear friends, takes courage.

That, dear friends, IS courage.

Any step at all matters, even (and maybe especially) the tiniest and most incremental. 

And when you choose to take those steps, even (and maybe especially) honor them and yourself over and over again? That, dear friends, is sovereignty.

May it be so. 

Amelia Earhart. Agency. Taking action.

Apr 26, 2021 | My sort-of Sermons, Sovereignty, Women's Voice & Power

Amelia Mary Earhart was born July 24, 1897. In her short life, she was the first female aviator to fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean and set many other records. She wrote best-selling books about her flying experiences. And she was instrumental in the formation of The Ninety Nines, an organization of female pilots. After disappearing on July 2, 1937, she was declared dead on January 5, 1939.

As if all that weren’t notable enough, there’s this quote of hers:

The most difficult thing is the decision to act, the rest is merely tenacity. The fears are paper tigers. You can do anything you decide to do. You can act to change and control your life; and the procedure, the process is its own reward.

Wow.

 

The word I use for this is “agency” – not only knowing I can choose but actually doing the choosing itself, acting on the decision, taking action.

We have agency. But oh, how tempting to believe otherwise.

I’m a perfect case study.

I love to deliberate, to consider all the options, to weigh every pro and con, to journal, to reflect, to be curious, to wonder if I have enough data or resources or wisdom, and to then take every bit of all that pondering (and all that it subsequently invites) as permission to keep my head in the clouds instead of landing the damn plane. 

But as long as I circle, as long as I allow myself to stay in deliberation, I don’t take action.

And why would I choose such a thing?

Easy: fear.

(I’ll keep speaking for myself, but I’m guessing you can relate.)

I fear that if I not only listen to, but actually trust and act on the wisdom that is mine (not all the perseverating, but the deeper know-that-I-know-that-I-know voice within) there will be an onslaught of risks, costs, and consequences that will show up and undoubtedly subsume me. Disaster will befall. Relationships will crumble. The world will come to an end.

Yep. That sounds about right for starters.

Of course there will be risks and costs and consequences to actually trusting and acting on my wisdom! That is always the way of it! It inevitably leads me into brand new territory, change, and transformation. (Which means that people, systems, and institutions around me will have to change, too. Yikes: more risks and costs and consequences!)

What if the awareness of risks and costs and consequences was the very thing that compelled our actions – instead of stopping them?

The best case study?

Back to Amelia Earhart. I’m thinking she was pretty clear on the risks and that those were the very things that kept her going instead of holding her back; that compelled her instead of stopped her.

Right.

So, bottom line?

Amelia Earhart invites you (and me) to choose – and then act on that choice; to decide – and then act on that decision; to acknowledge and USE the agency that’s yours.

Amelia Earhart invites you (and me) to land the damn plane. Or maybe start flying it in the first place! To push the boundaries, the limits, any and every restraint that’s kept you grounded. Say what you feel, what you mean, what you know. Trust your voice (and your wisdom), your creativity, your value, your worth. Be completely, fully, authentically you – all the time.

May it be so. 

 

Hearing Voices

Apr 5, 2021 | My sort-of Sermons, Sacred Stories, Spirituality, Women's Voice & Power

I am neck-deep in manuscript-writing these days. This book, my book, this thing I’ve been nurturing and holding and holding back for years (and years and years) is now making its way into the world. Much like labor, I can’t stop it now – nor do I want to.  

The section I’m working on currently tells the story of a young woman whose life was violently, brutally ended.

I don’t like the story at all.

I wish it didn’t exist.

There’s no justification of it, no making sense of it.

And though I might wish to just ignore it – to dismiss it as one more piece of evidence against the text within which it’s found – that only perpetuates her harm. Which isn’t acceptable to me.

It is in telling women’s stories – even and maybe especially the most painful ones – that we invite the healing we desire and deserve.

When I calm myself down, at least for a bit, about the injustice and senselessness and violence, I can hear a different voice; I can hear hers. The one that was snuffed out. The one that was permanently silenced. The one we’ve rarely-if-ever bothered to listen to. The one that I imagine she’d speak on our behalf if only we could and would hear.

This is what I believe she’d say:

  • Fear is not your birthright.
  • Do not hold back – no matter the danger or risk.
  • Pursue what brings you life.

I am clear that these three statements are, indeed, the wisdom she longs for all of us to embody – in honor of her sacrifice, in honor of her story, in honor of her, and most of all, in honor of the life and story that is ours.

I am clear that were we to follow these three statements as gospel, it would be our own healing and that of our world that we would enable, invite, witness, and proclaim.

And I am clear that if I were I to imagine her saying even a bit more, it would sound a little something like this:

I’m right about this! Fear is not your birthright. But courage is. Write. Speak. Say. Do. Be. Say “yes.” Say “no.” Quit. Continue. Decide. Whisper. Roar. Love. 

Risk is a given. To try and mitigate it, lessen it, create a balance sheet to show you exactly what might happen if you move this way or that is not the the least bit practical nor remotely close to your destiny. Do not hold back. Let risk and danger be the signs that you are moving in the right direction. And then read the paragraph above over again so that you can remember that fear is not your birthright.

Learn from me. Let my life (and death) offer you invaluable perspective. Cherish every moment. Pursue all that is yours, all that awaits you, all that exists within and around you, all that you desire and deserve. And then read the two paragraphs above over again so that you can remember that fear is not your birthright and you must NOT hold back, no matter the danger or risk!

Of course we wish that stories like hers did not exist, then or now. We must rage (rightly and justifiably) against violence. And in the midst of both, we must honor the voices that can no longer speak, the stories that are rarely if ever told.

We must use our own voices and live our own stories in ways that are courageous and risky and full of life.

 

And when we do? Well, Jepthah’s Daughter smiles and says “Thank you.” Oh, and this:

Read the three paragraphs above over again? And then maybe a few more times? 

With her wisdom as rubric, encouragement, and hope, I labor on – knowing and trusting that the imagined words of even one ancient, sacred young woman might strengthen you in the labor that is yours, in the story that is yours, in all that is yours to birth and live and heal.

May it be so.

Refrigerator-Magnet Wisdom

Feb 15, 2021 | Hope & Encouragement, My sort-of Sermons, Sovereignty, Women's Wisdom

Last month I was in a bookstore in Lexington, KY with both of my daughters. We wandered in three different directions, as we often do – drawn to different things, different genres, our own stories speaking through what we collected as we walked through the aisles.

One of the girls called out to me, motioning me over to the rounder filled with magnets. And this, now impossible to ignore on my fridge, offers me exactly the reminder and the wisdom I need, multiple times each day.

Whatever you are meant to do, do it now. The conditions are always impossible.

 

Indeed.

But oh, how we wish for different conditions…

  • before we have that hard conversation.
  • before we make that needed decision.
  • before we hit “publish” on that blog post or sales page or amazingly updated bio.
  • before we say “yes.”
  • before we say “no.”
  • before we speak our mind.
  • before we tell our truth.
  • before we step forward.
  • before we let ourselves be truly seen.
  • before we trust our wisdom.
  • before we act on our wisdom.
  • before we launch.
  • before we let go.
  • before we write that text, that email, that post, that book.
  • before we take care of ourselves.
  • before we do pretty much any number of the things we know are ours to do…

All of this is understandable.

We believe that if the conditions were different, then all of these things would be far easier and way less risky.

But here’s what I wonder – for myself and for you:

If the conditions were different (far easier, less risky) would the benefit, the impact, the “result” of doing any/all of these things be as profound and powerful?

It seems to me, at least with hindsight, that what seemed most impossible at the time was, in fact, what made the biggest difference, invited the most change, transformed me. Had I waited until the conditions were more favorable, it might have passed me over entirely – the experience, the moment, the leap into the unknown, the bold and beautiful (and difficult and risky) choice.

Doris Lessing is right, of course: now is the time for us to do what we are meant to do. Not once things are better, easier, calmer, figured-out, mitigated, or resolved. Now.

Heavy sigh. Deep breaths. (Both are reasonable here.)

As I look at this magnet, again and again, I see my resistance and, most of all, my fear. I can call it “conditions,” but at the end of the day, fear is what I’m faced with – and what I’m invited to name, acknowledge, and heal by choosing sovereignty instead.

It’s me (and you) showing up in exactly these conditions, whether impossible or not, and…

  • having that hard conversation.
  • making that needed decision.
  • hitting “publish” on that blog post or sales page or amazingly updated bio.
  • saying “yes.”
  • saying “no.”
  • speaking your mind.
  • telling your truth.
  • stepping forward.
  • letting yourself be truly seen.
  • trusting your wisdom.
  • acting on your wisdom.
  • launching.
  • letting go.
  • writing that text, that email, that post, that book.
  • taking care of yourself.
  • (insert any and everything else that you know belongs on this list)
  • doing all the things you know are yours to do…not someday, but now.

This is why I have created SOVEREIGNTY. Because I know the “someday” and the waiting on perfect conditions is exhausting and endless…

SOVEREIGNTY is a 9-week program that acknowledges the conditions (and your conditioning). It invites you to walk straight into the truth of your life with courage and grace. And it provides the advocacy and generosity and support you desire and deserve – so that you can do what you are meant to do. Not someday. Not when the conditions are right. Right now.

And since you can’t walk past my fridge multiple times a day, let me repeat this one more time on your behalf:

Whatever you are meant to do, do it now. The conditions are always impossible.

The conditions aren’t the issue. Not really. You, being you – glorious and wise and brave and yes, sovereign – in the midst of them is what matters and makes all the difference.

Let’s do that – together!