I’m a cargo shorts/flip flops kind of guy. Through my 69 years, I have stayed in that attire into December, sometimes January. I have noticed that in recent years, I have been shedding the aforementioned attire and slipping into jeans and tennies earlier and earlier. Part of me says, “You’re getting soft; you’re caving in, man. Slacker.” Another part of me says, “Lying frozen to death in a snowbank doesn’t lend itself to making new beginnings...unless, of course, death is your new beginning.”

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This Sunday, we will be in the third week of our series New Beginnings. In the past few weeks, we have discussed the importance of looking back and taking stock of what lessons we have learned and naming areas where we have been hurt or ways we have been formed. In week two we talked about the challenges of grieving.

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Is it possible that one could derive their worth/value for being the worst of the worst? Does being worse than anyone else set me apart as special in my mind? Does that make me and my situation unique? If I am the exception to every rule, then does that make me exceptional?

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When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up? A firefighter? President? A beauty pageant queen? A power ranger? A princess-warrior-interior decorator-chef? When I was young, I wanted to be a teacher and a missionary.

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Sometimes we believe in new beginnings, opening ourselves up to new ideas. Sometimes we make new beginnings, taking action in some way — big or small. Sometimes we become a new beginning, coming alongside someone else’s story in a significant, embodied way.

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It's hard to say what my favorite part of the Formation Community was. Getting away. Being at Chiara Center. The trees. Generous listening. The reflection papers. Having solitude. Journeying together. What initially drew me to commit to the two years, and was the hardest to keep at the forefront, was "naming your desire."

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I was a part of Formation Community 4, which just finished up this past October. I chose to begin the journey of the retreats because I honestly just needed quiet and time away. I’m a married, working mother with two young children. I manage a household, referee two rambunctious children, run a home music studio, sing in a professional choir, teach college music courses, and lead worship. I was “dangerously tired” in every possible way. My soul NEEDED rest.

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“Hurry up! Christmas is almost here! I hope I can find some joy and peace myself.” Does that sound like you?

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I am generally the type of person who does what they should because they should. I like to improve and reach goals, and I find comfort in consistency (...I sound really fun, I know). So, I have never really minded guardrails. Previous religious affiliations have been great at providing a set of guardrails - I knew what to do and what constituted “having faith” and “having a relationship with God.”

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To say that we have a lot to be grateful for would be an understatement. When we reflect on the things we have to show gratitude towards, so many come to mind: Our upbringing in stable, Christian-based homes with loving family; Our opportunity for well-rounded education that has contributed to our career success; The fact that God drew us down similar paths that led us to one another; Our family’s acceptance, love and compassion for us as a couple and as parents; And our chance to raise three wonderful children.

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This past August, I had the opportunity to have a late start at my job where I work for two separate financial advisors. This was especially appreciated, as I had returned late the night before from a trip, and was excited for the chance to sleep in a few extra minutes. I woke up later than my usual time, showered, and went into work. As was my particular morning routine, I stopped by my boss’s office to check in and add any additional tasks to my list. His voice was uncomfortable and calm as he told me to come in and have a seat.

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Thankfulness and a “glass half full” mindset seem to come naturally to some. Although I don’t see myself as a pessimist, my default response is not always positive. I first want to know how many ounces the glass holds and where exactly is the halfway point on said glass. I’ve had to learn gratitude from the example of others. My first and best teacher was my Dad.

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We are currently in a series on uncertainty, and I was asked to write about gratitude, so I thought I would write a little bit about Kyle’s and my journey through foster care and why I am grateful for uncertainty.

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It seems to me like many of us go through life with a fair bit of anxiety on our plates. This ranges from general social discomforts to genuine panic attacks that can leave a person helpless. But there appears to be a common undercurrent in the lives of most adults I know. There is this nagging question of, “Am I doing what I'm supposed to with my life?”

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I am a labor and delivery nurse, so the word transition carries a particularly strong meaning for me. In my world, transition is the point in labor when the woman goes from 8cm to 10cm dilated, right before it’s time to push. It is the most difficult stage of labor — when the changes taking place in the woman’s body seem too intense to handle. It’s when even the most composed woman starts to lose control and is ready to give up. Forget all this talk about wanting the baby to just be here already. She takes it all back.

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