If I sound like a hot mess to you, well then.

I have something to say, and rather than wait until it’s all processed and I know how to say it neatly and sweetly, I’m just going to air it out now and get it off my chest.

Some things have got to change around here. And by “around here,” I mean this blog. And my life. And my heart.

Yesterday at church Pastor Rich mentioned 9 of the most common sins, and I’m delighted to tell you that 3 of them are not really a struggle at all for me, 3 probably are, but I haven’t really realized it yet, and 3 are pretty glaring.

Pride, anger, and self-centeredness.

God has been gently hammering away at me for awhile about all three of these. And while the anger thing is something best dealt with in the privacy of my home and family (for one, because that’s where it shows up pretty exclusively), the pride and self-centeredness need to be dealt with here, because the internet is where I struggle most with both of those things.

It’s amazing how quickly I can make everything all about ME.

I don’t have the time/energy to re-hash all that’s happened in the past couple years on the “career” front for me, but here’s the scoop in a nutshell: I’m an author with real published books under my belt. And so that’s kind of a big part of my identity (whether it should be or not). But it’s been three years now since I’ve had a book published, and there’s a lot of hard work ahead of me if I ever want to get to the place where I can publish another one (through a publisher, not on my own). And that means a lot of platform-building and getting lots of people to notice me and know who I am and all that.

And I sense God telling me that I need to be done with that. For good.

Now, I have a ton of author friends who I love to pieces, and I’m not saying that building your platform and gaining followers is all prideful and self-centered and whatever. I’m just passing on what God is saying to ME.

And I’ve been thinking the past couple days (a dangerous activity when you’re suffering from jet lag) about the things I do (and am) online and wondering which of those things are a part of my life because God wants them to be and they bring him glory and which are things I’m just doing to get people to notice me.

I’m aware of the fact that I’m not making any sense, so I’ll just start explaining some small changes I’ve made.

Pinterest. Why did I join Pinterest a few months ago and then never look at it again? Why was I getting a ton of notifications in my e-mail that such-and-such had started following my boards?

Pinterest is cute. And swell. And helpful. But for me, it’s too overwhelming. I have too many things to do already, and there’s no space for it. I don’t really need to know about all the amazing, creative, adorable people out there that are way more awesome than me. And I don’t have to live in fear that if I’m not a part of it, I’ll be missing out and that people won’t know who I am and yadda yadda blah-blah.

So I canceled my account.

And I unsubscribed from The Writer’s View (a Yahoo group for authors) and a Facebook page for writers that I was a part of. And I unsubscribed from a bunch of blogs that I don’t have time to read but read anyway just so that I can feel like I’m “in the loop.”

And Twitter might be the next thing to go, because I haven’t even been on it in 2 months.

And I’m evaluating everything I say and do online to see what purpose it’s serving. Whose purpose it’s serving. God’s? Or mine truly?

The internet is amazing. I love the connection. I have seen God use it in a million different fabulous ways to make his name glorious. But I also know that if he calls me to just live a faithful life without telling the world about it, I need to be willing to do that.

If he calls me to move to Cambodia without blogging about it every day I’m there, I need to be willing to be his hands and feet and not his mouth.

I need to do this online thing on his terms, not mine. So I’m going to spend some time (as much time as it takes) asking him what that means practically speaking.

And I’m anticipating that I will screw up A LOT over the next few days, weeks, months. Your grace and patience would be a balm to my soul.

I’ve had a rough 24 hours. And I know from experience that getting my mind off myself means I need to take some other people to God in prayer. So I’d love it if you’d share a prayer need with me (either in the comments or e-mail).

And wouldn’t you know it, my back is aching, and my feet are asleep. That’s my cue.

Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth! Serve the Lord with gladness! Come into his presence with singing! Know that the Lord, he is God! It is he who made us, and we are his, we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise! Give thanks to him; bless his name! For the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations.

Psalm 100

I got a text from my friend Shalla (our pastor‘s wife) Friday night. “Rich, the kids, and I are taking lunch to the firemen that came out for the fall festival tomorrow, just as a thank you. Thought of you guys and thought you might like to join us if you’re not busy.”

Absolutely, I told her. The Fall Festival, if you’ll remember, is where Gabe had his heart attack. These firemen came to judge our Chili Cook-Off and show off their fire engine to our kiddos. And then they came back 30 minutes after they left when they got a call that someone (Gabe) was having trouble breathing. While the ambulance whisked Gabe away, the firetruck escorted Harlan and me to the hospital.

So, Saturday morning at 11:30, we meet Rich, Shalla, and their 4 little ones at the fire station, Ladder/Engine 24. Rich and Shalla have their arms full of Jersey Mike’s subs, potato chips, and children. I’m carrying a little thank-you note.

We meet three of the guys in the kitchen, Rich explains who we are (he’d arranged the lunch drop-off ahead of time) and who Gabe is, and then one of the guys asks the kids if they want to climb on the firetruck. Campbell is just climbing down when the alarm sounds, we rush out of the way, and they zoom off to save someone’s life. (Or a false alarm, whatever.) The 11 of us (me, Gabe, Rich, Shalla, our 7 kids) all gather in a circle and pray for the people they’re going to help.

They’re back in less than 10 minutes (we were just hanging around, waiting for them, not sure why). The two firetrucks pull in + the ambulance (that took Gabe to the hospital). And wouldn’t you know it? The two guys that attended to him that night were on duty. And thrilled to see him.

We got to talk to them for 20-30 minutes, and I can’t tell you what an incredible experience it was for us. To be able to thank them for saving my husband’s life. To hear the story from their perspective. To get to tell them what happened after they left the scene.

They kept thanking us for coming. Um, backwards. “It’s not very often we get to hear from someone we helped,” they said. The one guy said that he kept Gabe’s EKG print-out (and cut off the identifying information) and shows it to classes that he teaches, so they can see what it looks like when a 34-year-old has a heart attack.

He said he knew as soon as Gabe got in the ambulance that he was having a heart attack, but he didn’t tell him, because he didn’t want to scare him. Good call. They did the EKG to make sure, which saved them time when they got to the hospital. The doctor and his staff had already been called (away from the Ohio State game–bad time to have a heart attack in our fair city), so they were there soon after Gabe got wheeled in (you can read this part of the story from my perspective here–not my most favorite moment).

They had told us at the hospital that there’s a 90-minute golden window from when you have a heart attack to when you get your arteries unblocked. If it takes much more time than that, your life is in grave danger. If you survive, it’s probably with no small amount of irreversible heart damage.

The EMT told us that from the time the squad got to Gabe to the time he got his heart catheterization was 77 minutes.

They joked that they had just sat down to some homemade pizza in the kitchen when they got the call. “I had only taken one bite,” Bob said. “We’re used to getting our meals interrupted.” But unlike “the 23-year-old with a toothache who dialed 9-1-1 the other day,” Gabe was “worth the re-heat.”

Worth the Re-Heat. I feel like we should get t-shirts made.

T-shirt or no, Gabe’s not going to live that one down. I can’t stop saying it and smiling. Dude, you are so worth the re-heat.

We learned all about their jobs and what they do, their families, their 24-hours-on-48-hours-off schedule, how long they’ve been paramedics/firefighters, the fact that they’re the busiest station in the whole city. They asked us to stay in touch and come back anytime.

When it was time to go, Rich asked if we could pray for them. They said they could use all the prayers they can get, so we all got in a big circle and thanked God for Bob and Dan and for their part in saving Gabe’s life.

I looked at my daughters, my husband, that ambulance, those guys, and just breathed deep and thanked Jesus.

It was a sacred moment. One I’ll not soon forget.

My hope and prayer is that 1.) I’ll write this post with honesty and humility. and 2.) It will be received in the spirit in which it was intended. I’m not writing this as someone who’s doing it all right, but I want to be doing it right, and I’m determined to start making some changes based on what I’ve been reading in God’s Word.

Man, last week was rough. I can’t blame Ali’s post (because this is a topic I’ve struggled with long and hard), but she definitely got me thinking afresh about wealth and giving and our friend, Dave Ramsey.

Which brings me to my bad news. At the end of this post, (many of) you and I still aren’t going to agree on certain matters of personal finance. But I’m pretty sure we can still like each other and serve the same God as brothers and sisters in Christ.

And more good news. Out of all the notes I’ve scrawled in my journal, I’m only going to share about 25%. And I’m going to let Jesus and other New Testament writers do just as much (if not more) talking than me.

If you haven’t read Ali’s post, do that first. I’m not going to repeat everything she said. In a nutshell, she questioned Dave Ramsey’s 7 Steps to Financial Peace, specifically Step 7a.) Build wealth and 7b) Give. One of her main concerns (and mine): Is giving something we do at the very end, after building wealth, or should we be giving before that? Let’s explore.

(First: a disclaimer. This post isn’t about Dave’s rockin’ Get-Out-of-Debt Plan. I’m all for getting out of debt. And I think Jesus is too. Well, technically, I think he’s all for not getting into debt in the first place. We’re focusing on 7a and 7b here.)

I do wish I had a couple bucks for every time someone has told me some variation of the following statement: “I can’t wait until I’m out of debt and have more money, because I love to give and can’t wait to give BIG!”

I get that. I do. It makes total sense. That’s why Dave Ramsey is so successful. The dude makes so much sense. But I think for followers of Christ, he might make a little too much sense. Because the Savior we’ve decided to follow? Often makes little to no sense at all.

Take the story of the widow’s offering in Mark 12 (and Luke 21) for example. Jesus sits down across from the temple treasury and watches people putting their offerings in the box (isn’t that funny? I think that’s funny.) Verse 41 says, “Many rich people put in large sums.” Sweet. That’s gonna be me some day. I’m paying off my debt, building wealth, and living (and giving) large.

Then a poor widow puts in two little coins that together equal a penny. Boo. What is that? It’s not like you can even buy anything with a penny. Talk about not making a dent.

Then Jesus (the one who never seems to make any sense) calls his disciples to him and tells them that this poor widow has “put in more than all those who are contributing to the offering box.”

Did he not see the LARGE SUMS the rich people gave??

“For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”

What in the heck is wrong with giving out of your abundance?? Seriously, Jesus?? How can you be happier with ONE CENT than a fistful of twenty-dollar bills??

Then there’s the rich young man who wanted to follow Jesus but walked away greatly saddened when he realized what it was going to cost him–”Sell all you have and give it to the poor and come follow me,” Jesus had told him. (Mark 10:17-31)

And the rich man whose land produced plentifully (sounds like God was blessing him), and he built larger barns to store all his crops, and said to himself, “Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years: relax, eat, drink, be merry, live like no one else.” (oops, I added that last part) God takes his life that very night and says, “So is the one who lays up treasure for himself and is not rich toward God.” (Luke 12:13-21)

And the little kid with the 5 loaves and 2 fishes (talk about a meager offering) that Jesus took and multiplied himself and fed 5000 men + women and children. What if the kid would’ve said, “Hey, I only have this tiny lunch right now, and I know that isn’t going to do squat. But in 15 years, I plan on retiring with lots of money in Roth IRAs, and I’ll come back with lunches for all 12,000 of you. Won’t that be awesome and impressive?”

Moral of the story? From what I’ve been reading (and I read all of Matthew, Mark, and part of Luke this weekend), it appears that Jesus’ plan isn’t to build wealth and then give out of that. It’s give now, and let me turn your puny gift into something outrageous.

And if we’re going to get technical, I can’t find ANY place in the Bible where Jesus tells people to build wealth. In fact, when he tells stories, more often than not, “a rich dude” is his bad guy of choice. Yet we want to be rich??

May I humbly challenge us to think about something? Is the reason we want to build wealth and then give because it will hurt less to give if we have more left afterward? Is it possible that Jesus cares more about how much you’re keeping than how much you’re giving?

If we really, truly want to give like no one else, may I suggest we start TODAY, even if it hurts?

And I can’t bring myself to blog about it yet, because… Okay, scratch that. I don’t think God is giving me the go-ahead to blog about it until my heart is right.

In fact, my heart is pretty mucky and yucky right now. And while I’d love to claim that it’s all just a bunch of righteous anger, I know better. Yes, it might partially be that, but the bulk of it is my own sinfulness.

I really don’t mean to leave you in the lurch. And while I’m not going to hash it all out right now, I can tell you what it’s about. It’s nothing new. And nothing I haven’t blogged about before. It’s just one of those hot topics that brings people out of the woodwork and into the boxing ring. I’ll give you a hint: it’s closely related to this post (which I loved and many of you expressed to me–on facebook mainly–that you most definitely did not love at all).

And the stinky, fleshly side of me is sooooooo tempted to put up a wall between those who see things one way and those who see things the right way. But I know that’s wrong. And I need to find a way to love everyone (it’s just not coming easily right now).

I want to throw Scripture in people’s faces and stomp around and throw tantrums and gossip about people whose philosophies of life I don’t like and give people the silent treatment and expect people to do everything just the way I do it.

So.

I’m going to keep begging God to clean up my heart. Then maybe we can have a civil, dignified, God-honoring discussion about all of this.

Have a nice weekend.

Would love to see you there!

For starters, thank YOU for donating educational materials (and $) to schools in Cambodia. And thank you for your wisdom and advice and heart for others. Such givers.

Then this afternoon I went on a field trip with Nina’s kindergarten class (42 kiddos and 2 fabulous teachers) to a farm–pumpkin patch, big tube slide, straw maze, corn box, hayride, big fat turkeys & chickens. It was so much fun. Her teachers blow me away. Seriously. They have so much love for each of these kids, and it just bubbles over and spills on everybody. Such givers.

Then our friend Linda brought us a delicious, healthy, barely-any-sodium meal. This is our 4th meal since Gabe has been home from the hospital, and people are signed up MWF through the 16th. And I didn’t even have a baby!! Such givers.

Then our community group met at our house tonight and we talked about serving. Wow. Lots of people had lots of ideas for serving people in our community. Like a family from another country that is barely scraping by. We’re all going to chip in and find/buy the things they need. I listened to my friends (old and new) share what gifts God has given them and the joy they find when they use those gifts to help others. Such givers.

I am moved and inspired by those who give of themselves to help others. In their neighborhoods. In their schools. At their jobs. Around the world. Such givers.

Feeling so blessed tonight. And so grateful to the Giver of all. When we give, we feel his pleasure, because we’re becoming more and more like him.

We’re going through the Strong Challenge at church for six weeks, and this week is all about Training and Discipline (so far, we’ve had Play, Pray, Study, and now Train), specifically the disciplines of fasting and solitude and examining our hearts. We have a pack of Strong Cards that we’re working through with activities on them, and last night at Group, we paired up and decided to give something up for a day this week.

My friend Bre fasted from food today, and I’m fasting from Facebook, Twitter, and my blog tomorrow (Friday). Keeping texting/e-mail open for “emergencies.”

Well, this morning I decided to do one of the other cards (we’re supposed to try to do one per day, and I’ve failed miserably). “Skip a Meal” was the first one I saw, and I knew I was supposed to do it. And since I rarely eat anything until 10:30 or so anyway, I knew it would be easy (lame, right?).

The card reads: “Skip at least one meal today and use that time to write out a prayer for something specific in your journal. Use any hunger pangs as reminders to pray and listen to God.”

Felt strongly that I’d pray for wisdom and clarity about our trip to Cambodia.

The card suggested three Scripture passages to read, so I decided to do that first. Matthew 6:16-18 is all about not making a big production of your fasting, i.e. showing off how spiritual you are (you know, by blogging about your fast and stuff). Daniel 9:3 was about Daniel fasting and praying for the sins of his people. And the last one, Ezra 8:21, was OHMYWORD.

I read the verse and almost fell off my chair. Or maybe I did fall off my chair. I can’t even remember.

Ezra 8:21 (ESV)–”Then I proclaimed a fast there, at the river Ahava, that we might humble ourselves before our God to seek from him a safe journey for ourselves, our children, and all our goods.”

Um.

Then I proclaimed a fast there, at the kitchen table, that I might humble myself before my God to seek from him a safe journey for Gabe and me, Livi, Ava, and Nina, and our 10 suitcases (+ carry-ons) full of supplies for schools and orphanages in Cambodia.

After I picked my jaw up, I kept reading. Verse 22 made me smile. Ezra was ashamed to ask for bodyguards, because he had already bragged on his God to the king. Verse 23–”So we fasted and implored our God for this, and he listened to our entreaty.”

And that’s what I did today. I fasted and implored my God for this, and I know he listened to my entreaty.

Less than an hour later, we got an e-mail from John McCollum, the director of Asia’s Hope. He had passed our story along to his friend, Dr. John, an ER doc who’s on the board of Asia’s Hope and has traveled extensively in Southeast Asia. A little bit after that, Dr. John himself e-mailed us.

He told us he was so glad we would most likely still be going on our trip and that he had “no problem being under the care of the Great Physician as long as you are acting wisely and following the counsel of your physician.” He gave us advice for what to do in an emergency, gave us phone # and e-mail for a doctor friend in Cambodia, and gave us the name/# of a missionary who had a similar experience on furlough earlier this year and is back in Cambodia.

Praise you, God!

My “plan” for tomorrow’s social media fast is to spend time in prayer for others, like Daniel did (9:3). Not so much asking God to forgive their wicked rebellion (well, maybe in some cases), but to ask him to hear their cries and remember their needs and meet them where they are.

Would you join me today in praying for 3 people? 1 in your community, 1 in another state, and 1 in another country?

I’m going to pray for 1.) our pastor and his family (he’s leaving for Ethiopia in a few days and they have four small kiddos). 2.) my friend, Joanne, who lives in Colorado and had a stroke in January. 3.) the folks at Heartline in Haiti.

If you feel so inclined, I’d love to know who you prayed for (or at least what states/country they’re in). Of course I won’t be checking my blog until Saturday. See you next week, friends. And I can’t stop thanking you for all your encouragement this week after Gabe’s heart attack. THANK YOU.

What if you want to be forever changed and pursuing Jesus with everything in you, but apparently, you’re just as human as you ever were? And more tired. With more responsibilities. And more what-ifs.

Once before I got up to speak at a MOPS group (about s-e-x), the leader told the group that the sister of one the MOPS gals had lost her husband in a car accident the night before. Then she turned to me and said, “I’m sorry to share something so heavy right before your talk.”

And I said, “Oh, goodness. If anything, it should put this in perspective for us. I’m getting ready to give you all a pep talk about wanting to make love to your husbands, and this dear wife will never again be able to hold her husband in her arms.”

And from that moment on, I’ve tried to remember that young widow whenever Gabe wants to do something I don’t. Or when he chews food (because even if he does it as quietly as possible, I still can’t stand it. I’m OCD like that.). I say to myself, “Would I rather him be sitting in his recliner eating Doritos or would I rather him be dead?” It’s a sobering question (if not a little funny).

And yet, here I sit, four days after I almost lost him, and I’m cringing at the sound of him eating raw almonds (not even CLOSE to Doritos on the obnoxious noises scale) in his recliner all the way downstairs.

I admit my hideousness not because I want to try to outdo my crappiness confessions with every blog post, but because I’m struggling, and I need you to know that.

This ordeal has made us stronger and more grateful for what we have and more in tuned with God and his mercy and sovereignty, and a whole host of other amazing things.

But it has also exhausted us. And whipped our world out from under us. And opened our eyes to some things that aren’t pretty. And made us question what our future will hold and why we’re here on this earth.

It feels like we’re in a battle, and not one that’s over just because Gabe’s life has been spared. God was responsible for all of that; now we have to keep up the fight. The fight to be healthy, the fight to keep depression at bay, the fight to recover physically, the fight to make the best decisions…

And when I feel this tired after four days, I wonder if we have the strength to keep this up for the rest of forever.

Thankfully, God promises we don’t have to do it on our own. We have him. And we have all of you. Thank you. And we are so, so, so, so blessed.

My prayer (well, one of them) for today is that God will show me how to make this whole heart attack thing all about HIM and not about us. And I’m praying for an extra helping of grace for the times I just don’t get it right.

God, help us to seek nothing but you and your glory.

We’re home! Gabe is home!

Speaking of Gabe, the general consensus is that he looks amazing, and me? Well, not so much. Awesome. Who had the heart attack anyway?

Tonight has been emotional. And good. I’m holding up well. And also losing my mind a little bit. Lots of tears from the girls. I didn’t mean for them to know about the Cambodia thing, but Livi was on my computer all day reading all the Facebook comments–”I’m praying!” and “Happy Birthday!” And she read my blog post.

We had an amazing conversation in the van on the way to pick up Gabe’s prescriptions. She told me that God tells her things. I’ll share more later with her permission. Powerful, powerful stuff.

I brought Gabe home at around 7pm (Monday). Got him settled, my parents brought the girls back from trick-or-treating, Livi and I ran to get Gabe’s meds (then ran back out later because we forgot the aspirin that he has to take every day for the rest of his life). Had some emotional conversations. Ava rubbed Daddy’s head a bunch, and Livi and Nina took his feet. Gabe’s going to love this.

Finally got them in bed and they conked out immediately. Gabe’s asleep beside me, snoring like usual, and it’s not hard to pretend that everything’s just exactly like it was three days ago.

But then I remember the 6 pills he has to take every day for at least a year. And that one of them cost more than the car payment we were so glad to almost be rid of.

And I remember the circulation socks he has to wear. And that he can’t drive for 2 days. Or have “relations” for 5 (and for those of you who asked–and it was MANY–that is NOT what caused Gabe’s heart attack, you little stinkers). That he has to start his new exercise regimen with 4 minutes of walking per day. FOUR. That he has to cut salt and fat out of his diet. Salt is my love language.

But I’m confident that he’s going to get healthy and in shape and lower his bad cholesterol and raise his good cholesterol and have a stronger heart than ever before.

And God is already doing some jaw-dropping stuff through this. He is just nuts like that.

The doctors still don’t know what caused his heart attack, but they have a great plan in place for making sure (as best they can) that it doesn’t happen again. Speaking of, there was a rainbow in the sky right before Gabe had his heart attack, and tonight when I was gathering our stuff at the hospital and going out to pull our car around for Gabe, there was another one. A double one. It was like God was saying, “Ease your mind, girl. This won’t happen again.”

Please keep praying about Cambodia. I was reading through the Psalms this morning while Gabe was getting his echo done. I just read every verse that I had already underlined. Out loud. One of those verses was Psalm 119:32–”I will run in the way of your commandments when you enlarge my heart!” I didn’t add the exclamation point. It was already there. And guess what I had written in purple ink right beside the verse (and don’t remember writing).

Cambodia.

Believing big for God’s glory to be manifest in ways we can’t even conjure up in our puny little brains.

Speaking of puny little brains, mine is fried. Thanks so much, friends, for everything. We’ll have to reschedule the big birthday blog bash I had planned for today. Going to go sleep away the last 20 minutes of my 36th birthday.

36?!? What in the what?!?