Category: Love

What I LOVE About Myself

On By sashakatzIn FemmeFuel by Sasha Katz, Love2 Comments

This time of year, you can’t help but calculate if you are exercising enough, eating clean enough, spiritual enough, saving enough. Calculate and resolve. All by January first-ish. I usually find this process pretty exhilarating. Yes, I like lists and goals and plans and bucket lists. I like to think about what is better and best. I like to make plans and stick with them. But, it appears there is another way to do this new year thing.

Sitting on a school bus on its way to St. Augustine, I ran across a list of non-goals by Erin Loechner. Her list came just as the slew of resolutions of millions came through on commercials, articles, wish lists and blog posts. Her list appeared as my own thoughts of resolution were working their way through my heart and soul.

Erin says this . . . I think there is inherent worth in change, and I think there is inherent worth in the decision not to change . . . And this is why – year after year – I pen my own non-goals. The non-improvements, the non-betterments, the non-upgrades. The habits I want to stay the same because I once fought really hard for them. The ones I won’t allow to fall quietly by the wayside simply because I caught myself reading an article titled 20 Things To Change In 2016 . . . The ones – dare I say it? – I love about myself.

I had a mini revolution in my soul when I read these words. There are some good things about myself? Things I do well? I can think about those things and write a list? The non-upgrades have a place. And, according to Erin, this list can live in harmony with the calculated resolutions. I love this!

Today, I am sharing with you my non-goals. And, as a side note, I am going to be plainly honest. I am half way though Jen Hatmaker’s book For the Love. And, if I have imputed anything from her brilliant words, it is to let honesty and truth run free! So, for those of you who know me well and for those of you who don’t, here goes!

  1. I am ending my struggle with the traditional definition of rest. Yes, my optimal physical rest looks like eight hours, but I am energized by the books God has placed in my hands. By following the delicious recipes from the cookbooks I continue to collect, like good memories. My rest is those minutes before I fall to sleep sinking under covers; receiving the peace and gratefulness I have for a cushiony place to rest my head/but remembering the many who have no place tonight. I don’t have to embrace rest in its traditional form. My rest is a way for me to worship Him. The more I understand how He defines rest for me, the more I value rest.
  1. I am melting off anything that is not authentically me. I’m done checking boxes and gathering stock for the image I hope to be. Maybe it has some to do with 40 or maybe it takes decades for God to bring you to yourself. This is not a personal announcement of an arrival. This is just me claiming what God has made and going with it. I don’t mind that I quiver with fear sometimes or push against the change He calls me to. It’s how I grow and I am thankful He just keeps convincing me to be me. I’ll just keep melting and I like it that way.
  1. I’m not a great acquaintance. Let’s be friends and connect. I don’t like shallow conversation. I’m not good at small talk because I don’t see the point. I like hearing a heart over coffee/tea. I like to hold a hand and remind a soul that He promises this season will pass and end in victory. I believe that truth is best with love. I believe that from glory to glory, all things come together for good. I believe that hope makes practical sense. And, after all, don’t fret, the God of love wins over darkness.
  1. The truth is I like peace the most. I know this begs the question of why I became a lawyer. But the reason for that is I love justice and equality. I imagined my lawyer life being more of like the civil rights movement than who owes money to whom. So, I smile because God made me to love peace. I also smile because life does not always pan out to your attributes. But in the same way I understand His love, I also understand the imperfections of our lives.

So, there you have it. A list inspired by someone I would like to know more about – – Erin Loechner. Honesty inspired by someone I am just getting to know – – Jen Hatmaker. Wrapped up in encouragement by two more people. My mom and Emily Freeman. And, in the spirit of writing this list, please do be inspired by me and write your own short or long list of non-goals. We spend far too much time getting there and far too little time documenting the good progress of God in us. Sisters, can I hear an Amen?

By Sasha Katz

The Greatest Love Stories

On By sashakatzIn FemmeFuel by Sasha Katz, Love1 Comment

By Sasha Katz

A few weeks ago, I was walking over the bridge looking at the reflection of the morning sky in the canal. In my heart, I thought about the moment God made the creative decision to put reflection on the face of the water. My thoughts about His motivations caused love to overflow in my heart. Creation is the expression of His love. I am water-logged with thoughts about the expressions of His love through creation.

For a long, long time, I have been in love with the romance and depth between Ruth and Boaz. I shut my eyes and think of what it was like for Boaz to wake up with Ruth on the surface below him. Where she was waiting for him to see her. To accept her marriage proposal. In the blue glow of midnight. I think about the months before as she walked Boaz’s fields collecting barley. Under his promise that she would be safe in his meadows. Their love story began in fields where Boaz first noticed Ruth. I have to think that the fields brought out the golden amber in her skin. I have to think that she glanced at him through the waving field that was the distance between them. I think about their love in light of blue of night and amber of day. We express our love in the midst of His creation.

Ten years ago I read Donald Miller‘s Searching for God Knows What. There is this mind blowing chapter that envisions Adam and Eve’s love story. He suggests that Adam was a sort of lonely naturalist naming and categorizing the planet’s animals for about 100 years before he met Eve. All that time, Adam did not find someone like him that he could connect with. When Adam finally sees Eve for the first time, Miller describes that Adam was seeing a person who was like him, only more beautiful, and smarter than him in the ways of relationships. He must have thought to himself that she was perfect, and after a few days of just talking and getting to know each other, they must have fallen deeply in love. This is all among God’s creation. They fell in love in the midst of His creation.

Driving one afternoon, I listened to Dr. Bob Barnes and his guest ponder woman as night and man as day. It’s a deep thought that just like the Spirit hovered over the waters and carved out darkness and light, He carved out of His image woman and man. Just as he named the light and darkness to complete the first day, He created Adam and Eve to make something really good together. Something complete. Out of His creativity and love.

Miller says that sometime after Adam and Eve fell deeply in love, he must have gone on a long walk with God and thanked him. When Boaz expresses his love to Ruth for the first time, he called her blessed of God. That’s a kind vertical and horizontal gratitude. When I look at the sky’s reflection in the water, I am humbled and inspired and amazed and entirely grateful for the expression of His love in creation.

sunflower

Thank you to Tony Gill for Sunflowers at Arne.
I am also inspired by photographs of captured moments of pure love

The Real Meaning of Love

On By femmefuelIn FemmeFeatures by Bindu Adai-Mathew, FemmeFuel by Bindu Adai-Mathew, Love, UncategorizedLeave a comment

By Bindu Adai Mathew

Love. The world defines love as an emotion…a feeling. From fairy tales to Hollywood love stories, we are taught from childhood through adulthood that love is this intense, electric emotion that consumes us and sends us to the stratosphere, robbing of us all sense and thought .

The Bible, however, defines love differently:  Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 1 Corinthians 13: 4-7.

We have all probably heard these verses multiple times in our life…and more often than not, they are read at weddings. However, it probably wasn’t until I was married myself that I truly understood what those verses meant.  The first time he squeezed the toothpaste from the middle instead of the end? (Sigh) The first time he left the toilet seat up?  (Head shake) The first time he stayed up late after I meticulously cleaned the kitchen and went to sleep,  only for me to wake up in the morning to find random dishes, glasses, frozen food and chips wrappings, crumbs, etc. strewn across the kitchen counter and living room table? (Steam coming out of my ears) During those early years, I found it very difficult to be loving at times. Loving=patience=forgiveness…neither of which I was good at. But thank God, even when I wasn’t acting very loving, my husband continued to love on me.

Love, I’ve come to realize over the years, is not just a feeling…it is an action. Forgive. Sacrifice. Protect. Trust. All actions that God has done for us: For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16.

Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. John 15:13.

As always, Jesus is our example. He loved us so much that he sacrificed his life so we can a chance at eternity in heaven. He loved us so much that even in the midst of intense suffering and pain at our hands, He said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.” Luke 23:34.

Wow. Sacrifice. Forgiveness. Love.

Love

On By sashakatzIn FemmeFuel by Sasha Katz, LoveLeave a comment

Love is the greatest gift of all.  It is not a song; it is not the month of February.  It is not a box of chocolates – – although it can feel like a very good substitute sometimes.  It is the whispers of the Spirit.  It is the calming of the heart.  It is the promise of rest and joy.  It is the belief that everything will be okay.  And, not on account of your strength or commitment to good.  But, His.

Love, to me, is a God that never sleeps.  A God that never rests.  A God that is always there working my greater good.  A God that knows me.  A God that always delivers me, provides for me.  A God that is so big and so full and so deep that my greatest worry, my greatest burden, is already in His back pocket.

Love is a God that speaks in all seasons.  A God that spends a lifetime helping you to be who you really are.  A God that already knows every word you will speak to Him and already knows every word He will ever speak to you.  A God that holds your freedom in highest regard.  A God that walks you through every tear, every cry, every hard question you post in His direction.

Our God is a God of love.  And as I toil in my work and in my family and in my relationships.  He says to me “Live, my child, while I take care of the rest.”  And, when He says that, my understanding of His love winds deeper and clearer and stronger because I believe Him.

Knowing Him and Him knowing me are the greatest markers of love I will ever know.  And the longer I know Him, the more I know of love.  And the more I know of love, the more I believe I am free to live, and to the fullest.  Without any thought or concern for the outcome.  Because the end is His.  And He is perfect.  To love.

Part 3: Confidence that Gives

On By sashakatzIn FemmeFeatures by Sasha Katz, Love3 Comments

By AbbyA

You have been through a lot.  So much you can hardly recall.  You have experienced many revisions of yourself.  As the revisions color over top of one another, you have become quite beautiful.  In the making of woman, you have become gifted and full of treasure.  You are her now.  

You have walked to where you are supposed to be.  Many good miles in your shoes.  Paths, trails and routes under your belt, and in these shoes.  But your feet don’t hurt.  You are pleasantly quenched and the light unto your path warms and directs you as you walk.  The magic of your condition and of this course is that you seem both to attract and seek out souls to cross paths with.  Beauty doesn’t walk alone and treasures are worthless unless shared.

You are her now.  You hold treasures in your trinkets that are hidden in your colorful character.  You have gifts tucked away in the layers of the fabric of your life.  You see into the lives of the souls put before you.  You pass messages of encouragement and share bits of your journey in the right proportion.  You breathe life into what otherwise may have been dead.  The depth of your exchange resonates deep and wide.  For the good of others.

You could have chosen to keep your beauty to yourself or close the box that holds your remarkable worth.  You could have.  But then you would cease to be her.  You would slowly lose your luster.  Your layers would become limp, faded and unattractive.  You would find yourself selectively remembering the should haves, was nots and wishes for different.  Sadly, you may even find yourself alone on an island.  Loneliness lends itself to thirst and exhaustion, and depression.  This is no place for a woman of your quality.  No place for a woman who has walked good miles in her shoes.  No place for her. 

You are made of long lasting fabric.  The kind that holds up over space and time.  The kind that warms souls and quenches thirsty hearts.  The kind that transforms itself by loving, giving and growing.  She has so much to offer.  Explode into her.  She has become you.

Part 2: Walking Good Miles in Your Shoes

On By sashakatzIn FemmeFeatures by Sasha Katz, Love1 Comment

You have been through a lot.  So much that you can hardly recall.  Much is stored up in memory boxes of the heart.  You have childhood memories.  Holding your dad’s hand as you walk across the street.  Toy boxes.  Your little brother’s squishy hands and toes.  Your mom’s annual April Fool’s jokes.  Being queen for a day at grandmas.  You might remember road trips, camping trips or trips to time out.  For the most part, this memory box feels like warm sun on your face; it feels like licking an ice cream cone or sucking on a lollipop.  Whether sweet fantasy or true bliss, the good stuff drips down your chin, and since this is your childhood, you don’t mind at all.

The happenings of childhood are marked by innocence, naivety and blind love.  Children don’t pick birth places, living spaces or whether they get a silver spoon.  Children arrive into the environment prepared for them by imperfect human beings.  Your birthday suit probably did not include a tag stamped with equality, justice or life without bumps.  You got a partial clean slate, promises for good and a large serving of hope for who you just might be.

As time ticks forward, childhood innocence, naivety and blind love metamorphose.   As time ticks forward, who you are fills the space between your growing bones.  Independence and personal choice roll in.  As you discover the facts of your life, you can choose what may have been or you can choose to be who you were made to be.  In other words, you can choose to bloom or stay a sprout.

As you realize personal choice, you both stumble and discover over time spent becoming who you are.  If you check your memory boxes, there are whole periods of your life marked by an initial decision.   Whole periods of your life marked by an initial decision.  It is hard to imagine that there was an initial decision that defined a period of your life.  But that is how it happens.

Even if in the most subtle way, decisions are hued in darkness or light.  If you couldn’t see it then, you can see it now.  Looking behind you.  You may have thought there was one door of choice, but there was not.  There were at least two.  Perhaps the door you opened looked like the only one.  Perhaps that door was not wholly inviting, but it did appear to be the sole knob.  Looking back with later-found wisdom and clarity, you now see that it was not.

We all have our was nots.  Sometimes personal choice causes you horrible pain in remembrance.  Sometimes was nots make you feel quite stupid.  Sometimes it is unintentional mistakes that stab us in the chest for years to come.  Sometimes, should have, was not and wish for different compete to define whole periods of your life.  But no, that is not who you are.

You can walk good miles in shoes worn down by a few was nots.  In fact, you have walked many good miles in your shoes.  Perhaps some miles were not initially tagged as good, but eventually . . . your discoveries along life’s time line have healed you.  The memory box that used to haunt you is now covered by wisdom and truth.  It may be that it takes some time to get to these memory boxes; they are farther down your life’s time line.  But these boxes better represent the substance of you.  You chose to be who you are and the beauty of the box is remarkable.

. . . Until I See Him Again

On By femmefuelIn Best of Sasha Katz, FemmeFeatures by Sasha Katz, Love4 Comments

By AbbyA

Loss. We lose days as time passes. We lose time as days pass. Sometimes we lose our children from our view in the park – – even if just for a minute. Sometimes we lose our minds – – even if just for a minute. We lose pocket books and wallets. We lose keys and credit cards. Socks in the dryer. We lose innocence in maturity. Idealism in reality. Sometimes we lose sight. Sometimes we lose our way. But we never lose our faith.

I lost my dad in the cold of winter last year. My sweet dad with grey-blue eyes. He walked right into eternity before my eyes. The stepping into eternity was not a surprise to me. It was the sickness and dying that was not part of my understanding. I walked the hospital halls. I pet the big white horse of dog that came to comfort those on my dad’s floor. I listened to my dad talk for a while and then go back to rest. I watched my dad acknowledge doctors and visitors and drink juice and ice. Not knowing it at the time, I watched my dad see my children for the last time. I understood that my dad was coming home from the hospital for the last time. It is by His grace that we are saved and by His grace that our spirits enter into His presence. But it was very hard for me to find His grace in the physical act of dying.

My dad did not find it hard to find His grace in his sickness and dying. He believed – for real – that his God would never leave or forsake him. He believed in things like communion with God, honoring His commandments and sharing truths with love. He didn’t change in his dying. He simply became stronger in the spirit until eternal home and ultimate healing called him. And because of faith, my dad walked out of our earthly exit door and into His grace. Most assuredly, the painful experience of dying was erased as he walked through God’s front entrance and into the foyer of His joy.

Unlike the worthwhile pain of childbirth, death leaves you without a new life to distract you. Looking into sunsets and bright stars in the night resonate unreachable loss. The beating of the heart on the inside begs for just a little more time, a rewind. A go back. Inconsolable prayers asking God for the impossible. For a time, there is no room for healing. The pouring out of pain has to reach its end.

Our loving God gives us room to grieve. He whispers in places that were not complete even before the loss. He writes in fullness where there were pieces missing. He sings in perfection where there was lack. His handling of our humanness is a grand marker of His Godliness.

As He gently points me toward His plan, I find gratitude for the loss. Not for the loss of my dad. For God’s divine wisdom to allow temporary loss. It is in loss that we grow exponentially. Somehow the earthly losses cause us to gain in the spirit. Somehow the spiritual gain covers over the earthly loss. The covering does not extinguish the pain. It opens up the door to light in darkness. The covering is a shadow of the promise of eternity.

Through loss, God deepens our spiritual perception so that we can see what is just beyond the sunsets and bright stars in the night. He makes us aware that the beating of the heart on the inside is also beating for what is to come on the other side. I see my dad experiencing heaven. It is beautiful enough for me to receive God’s plan that brought him home too early and too young. My view gives me almost enough of my dad to settle my wish that he was here with me. I ponder that God planned it that way.

If I can grasp His wisdom, I may see that He pours Himself into my heart so that I desire to see Him in His fullness. The pouring out is a sort of introduction for seeing Him face to face. The pouring out sustains me and overflows me, but it doesn’t quench the cry in my heart for eternity. Isn’t it the same with our losses? His love sustains the loss, but His eternal promises sing us home. Until I see my dad again. Until I see my Heavenly Father face to face. I can be confident that anything lost will be found.