My dear friend Missy Durant is an amazing woman. Her life is overflowing with love and gratitude…and it spreads to everyone she knows. She wrote a book recently, What Matters, and I couldn’t be more excited for her.
I believe in what she’s doing with all of my heart…because it’s beautiful…because I cherish her and her heart.
So, today, I blogged on her web site…take a peek here!
I’m so sick of watching and reading news lately. I’m tired of hearing about the debt ceiling. I’m tired of hearing about credit 
downgrades. I’m tired of negative economic news sending people into a panic.
Is that what life is really all about?
Oh, I’m not naïve. I get it. I understand the implications. I freelance and consult to make ends meet. My husband works for a major U.S. retailer. I know what happens when companies tighten expenses their customers tighten expenses. I get it. I could dwell on it…scurry…worry…but it’s not worth it to me.
It’s not what life is about.
Today 31 Navy Seals died in a helicopter crash in Afghanistan. It’s not about why our military is there and whether or not it’s the right thing. It’s not what this blog is about. The point is 31 families are hurting today. Their hearts are breaking. They’re hanging on to memories. They’re shedding tears. They’re probably immensely proud of their lost ones. They probably wish they could have shared their feelings with their loved ones just once more.
Those families are being thrust into remembering what life is really about.
I’m pretty sure that today those families don’t care about the downgraded U.S. credit score. Frankly, I’m pretty sure that many of them would probably give up their jobs for another moment with their lost loved ones. I bet that the lives of those 31 Navy Seals have collectively inspired tens of thousands of others…inspired them to really live…really embrace life…
And the odd and encouraging thing is that despite the hurt that comes with this news is that even in death, the inspiration of those 31 Seals’ lives…lives filled with life, passion, commitment and loyalty…lives filled with life.
The economy will fluctuate forever. But life isn’t about money. Life isn’t about worrying what may or may not happen. Life is about embracing LIFE. Life is about inspiring others to LIVE. Life is about a community’s love and compassion for one another amid hurts and shortfalls. That’s the life I want to live…not wasted on worry…but a life embracing hope…an economy of life.
I firmly believe that I’ve got something to learn from everyone.
But, even more powerful, is realizing that every person can inspire you.
Inspiration is what happens when we stop looking at human interactions as transactional. The moment we remember that everyone is a person with feelings…with a story…is the moment their life can change ours…for the better.
Learning from others is amazing. When we learn from others, knowledge fills our brains. But, when we’re inspired we’re compelled to act. Learning keeps us humble…it makes us wise. But being inspired each other helps us live…fully embrace life.
This week I met with a client, her generosity to give others credit for work well done reminds me to always shine a spotlight on others’ accomplishments.
This week a friend of mine told another friend of mine that she was making a difference, her willingness to share that 
reminds me that a few words of encouragement, even to someone I barely know, can mean the world.
This week I met a priest, his willingness to connect with me reminds me how important it is to keep an open mind and open door…even with strangers.
This week I had lunch with a new friend who shared a lot of her life story with me. Her candor and strength remind me of how important it is to be real.
This week I met with a vendor, his desire to learn more about my needs reminds me of the importance of trust.
This week my husband’s giddiness over seeing his family reminds me of how precious family is.
This week a friend of mine needed to unload some crap. His willingness to lay it all out there reminds me how important it is to not bottle things up.
This week I had dinner with friends who have poured a ton of themselves into a cause they believe in with all of their beings. They remind me of what people can do when they work together with people being their number one priorities.
This week I met a man who left his steady job while he did some soul searching to find something that resonated with his desires deep inside him. His courage reminds me of the importance of embracing who we are at our cores.
This week one of my best friends poured hours of his life into literally rebuilding
his family’s home and spent the rest of those hours inspiring a team of people…all while being an amazing husband and father. His dedication reminds me that people are what always matter most.
Those reminders were inspirations…of humanness…of belief…of life…a true depiction of what matters in life. I pray I never stop being inspired by those around me.
My dad is my hero.
It might sound cliché, but for years I had a hard time saying that.
It was hard because I was frustrated that few others knew the amazing dad I knew existed. It was hard because I was sad to think that my dad was feeling empty and lonely and there was nothing I could do. It was hard because I was angry that he couldn’t just throw away the lifeless bottle and spend time with people who loved him instead. It was hard because it hurt to wonder whether or not he even remembered some of the most important moments in my life. It was hard because I was pissed at him for throwing away his life.
A lifelong battle with alcoholism had isolated my father from the world…had hidden the father I knew that few others could see. Not even my husband knew my real dad, because alcoholism hid him.
I often tried to put myself in my dad’s shoes…and I knew his heart hurt. I imagine anger and resentment overtook him when he could never measure up to the expectations put upon him by others. I imagine he hurt deeply after experiencing unspeakable things while serving in the Marine Corps. I imagine he felt shameful after a failed first marriage and failed jobs. I imagine he felt lonely when those close to him were overtaken by death at ages far too young. I imagine he felt guilty for not being the son he thought his parents wanted. I imagine his heart broke for both of his daughters when they each, separately, experienced murders of their best friends. I imagine he condemned himself for things we can’t even fathom. And then, I imagine, those feelings spiraled to the point of unspeakable numbness…to a place where he could no longer allow himself to feel…anything.
I won’t lie. There were many, many, many hard moments over the years.
I remember bad arguments. I remember police cars. I remember hiding in closets. I remember mom finding empty liquor bottles. I remember staying with my grandparents. I remember jail visits. I remember being too embarrassed to have my friends over. I remember hurtful things being said.
But I also remember loving no one like I loved my daddy…and always felt that same kind of love directed right back at me.
I remember the dad who played with me. The dad who taught me how to ride a bike. The dad who taught me how to build things. The dad who helped me learn to spell. The dad who taught me to read. The dad who convinced me when I was young that I would marry him when I turned 18 (so that he wouldn’t have to deal with me dating!). The dad who inspired me with his love for writing. The dad who drove me to school. The dad who taught me how to fish. The dad who taught me how to shoot a gun. The dad who wanted me to use said gun to go hunting with him (but there was no way I was up for killing a deer!). The dad who worked hard for years to provide for our family in tough times. The dad who taught me how to drive a stick-shift. The dad who believed in me. The dad who was proud of me. The dad who introduced me to Jesus.
Twenty-one months ago, after an emergency hospital stay, we thought alcoholism might take his life. Sixteen months ago, we thought the same thing again. It seemed as if alcohol might overtake him in this lifetime, even though we knew his heart was directly connected to the divine manifestation of grace and love.
But then he fought back. He fought back by giving everything up. All of the anger, frustration, lonliness, hurt, resentment, shame, guilt. All of it. He experienced grace Himself. The Grace who taught him that he was not the sum of his past mistakes. The Grace who told him that he is seen as perfect and pure. The Grace who showed him that his life is not finished.
On Friday, my dad retired and walked out of the doors of the Minneapolis Post Office with 20 years of government service…chin held high…love overflowing everywhere. He closed that chapter of his life on his terms. It was beautiful.
Grace literally redeemed his life. That same grace rekindled relationships in our family.
His courage to own his story encourages me to own my own story. His willingness to continue walking out purpose at the age of 67 shows me that God never stops working. His tender-hearted humility exemplifies Jesus.
I couldn’t be more proud of him…or more inspired by him…a living, breathing manifestation of God’s grace.
So now there is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus. -Romans 8:1 (NLT)
You know the people…
…those who are human, yet striving to be superhuman.
…those always, always, always working toward perfection, and are never satisfied.
…those working to please way too many people…trying to make them proud.
…those afraid to share their imperfections, faults and fears, even to those closest to them, because they’re afraid of rejection.
…those afraid of asking questions that challenge the status quo because they don’t want to sound stupid or be seen as rebellious.
…those dying to be all of who they are to everyone, but fear they’ll be abandoned.
If you don’t think you know someone like that, read my bio. Look at my picture. That was me.
Empty.
Lonely.
Fearful.
Insecure.
Unfulfilled.
Then came Grace. Real Grace.
Not the grace you say before you eat…and not the trite religious jargon.
Here’s the thing. I went to church almost all my life. I thought I knew what to say. I thought I knew how to act. Everyone always saw me as the good girl. God forbid they know my questions, doubts, faults and fears. I needed to hide those. From everyone. Even God. I thought I had to do a lot to make up for the things no one would ever know. I thought I had to prove myself. I had to prove to God that I loved and believed in Him. To me, my pursuit of perfection was the same thing as my pursuit of God. That was the way it was supposed to be, right?
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
Chasing approval and perfection? Pointless. Embracing the approval and perfection I finally realized I already have? Priceless.
For me, the realization was a process of logic, really. I believed Jesus came to save me. But save me from what? If Jesus brought “Good News,” what was it? Having to hide things? Pretending to be perfect? Being judgmental and closed off from the rest of the world in fear it might taint or impede my own pursuit for perfection?
No wonder people are leaving the church by the thousands. They’re searching for Good News…not an empty set of rules or rituals…or a pursuit of perfection they know they can never attain.
Why did God send Jesus again? To show us the law could be fulfilled? Or to fulfill the law for us?
HA! There’s the catch. You cannot do it better than God.
Sorry to break the news to the religious crowd, but He already fulfilled the law FOR us because He knew we were incapable of living up to His ideals.
The problem is that many Christians acknowledge grace, but forget that Grace came to earth as a loving human being and left footprints in the dirt. They forget that Grace loved so intensely that it lived perfectly just to die and pay for all of humanity’s imperfections. They forget that Grace showed its power and resilience when it returned to be our advocate and make imperfection irrelevant. They forget that Grace tells us there is no condemnation in Love.
Now, that’s Good News.
Grace…the freely given, unmerited favor and love of God.
Stew on that for a while. Free means there is no exchange. Free means nothing you have to earn. Free means nothing you have to pay for. Ever. Ever. Ever.
Grace is not religion. In fact, Grace stomped on the face of religion. Religion (and pursuit of perfection) makes you selfish. Grace (and acceptance of who you are) empowers you to be selfless.
Grace constantly transforms me.
Grace allows me to stop worrying about myself so I can focus on letting God’s love overflow from my life into the lives of others.
Grace shows me humility…because there is nothing I can do to make God love me more…and there is nothing I can do that can make God love me less.
Grace teaches me that the point of everything is Jesus…is Love…and everything else is ancillary.
Grace excites.
Grace inspires.
Grace accepts.
Grace loves.
Grace brings hope.
Grace overwhelms me with gratitude.
Grace is so big, so kind and so generous that I cannot fully understand or rationalize it.
Grace erases imperfections. Forever.
Grace changes the game. Forever.
Grace lives. Forever. And nothing can separate me from it or take it away.
Big realization.
I can now be fully alive…unafraid…and eternally connected to Unfailing Love.
Dump religion. Dump perfection. Dump approval. None of it matters.
Let Grace embrace you…God will take it from there.