Most fears fall in two categories. Imagination and experience. I’m either imagining the worst case scenario and paralyzed by what might happen even though it may never happen.

…or….

I’m fearful because of a previous experience where something I feared would happen and it actually did happen.

That night in 2022 as I ran out to follow my children and husband to the waves I can still remember my toes gripping the sand and pausing; standing back. Videoing from a distance and overcome with the thought a giant sea monster was waiting to emerge wildly out of the wave and swallow me. I was fresh off a medical crisis within my own nervous system, my husband’s heartbreaking professional losses, family fractures and watching my children walk through it all amongst the rubble of numerous moves and unknowns. It had taken all my courage. Battle after battle faced with already raw emotions….and that night walking towards the beachhead in the dark of night even under the full moon felt debilitating. Fears imagined and experienced were my only navigation.

This week in 2026 we were at the beach for what’s become a yearly event. But this is the first time we’ve come to the water at night. Four years later. Serendipitously providential. My youngest daughter had been on a beach trip earlier in the summer with our church and the last night they are there all the kids sit as individuals on the beach. Experiencing the Lord beneath a blanket of stars and the ambient sounds of the ocean. She had challenged us to do the same on the last night of our own vacation this year. After finishing dinner and a bike ride we went back to the beachfront. Looking to squeeze in time under the stars just before the storm clouds interrupted our idea with raindrops. Lighting was striking in the distance but no thunder claps just yet. We could hear faint laughing and children squealing in the distance. Walking down the wooden planked stairs we realized the laughter was coming from the diminutive groupings of headlamp crabbers with plastic colored nets and high hopes of a happy crap catch.

The power of the night was all encompassing. Such an oxymoron really. Children laughing in complete trust while the darkness covered the vast ocean and lighting bolts hit the water far off in the distance. Laughter and darkness do not often go together. At the top of the stairs my daughters hesitated watching it all and wondered if it was safe. As I watched my bare feet walk across the sandy boards and towards the stairs I quietly collided with the feelings from four years ago - wondering how I would feel at the exposure of the nighttime waves. It was another full moon just as it was four years ago, but with the storm rolling in there was only a slight opening to the stars.

Honestly I was shocked by my heart and response to my girls as we decided to go down to the sand and stand still. “Let’s get down there before the rain!”

And off I went down each stair step, through the powder white sand and right next to the waves of Mercy. Power under control. The place where God says “You stand here as a limited human being and witness my Power in peace coming only as far as I tell it to.” In essence it became an Ebenezer. The place where God has yet again been my help. Years of working through debilitating fears there I was standing before the dark waves again not fearful, but faithfully trusting in the HESED, loyal loving kindness, of My Friend, My King, My Father. A calming of a thousand fears this time staring at the dark ocean. Not looking for sea monsters to swallow me whole. Merely an eye witness to the character of Jesus through such wave crashing years.

“I’ve learned to kiss the wave that throws me against the Rock of Ages.”

Charles Spurgeon

The gentle breeze of a storm rolling in from the ocean’s dark waves felt anything but frightening. It felt Merciful. God’s steady presence still with me on that beach. Full circle. I felt different. I stood at the water’s edge experiencing joy and the humble prayer I allowed to slip beneath my lips went something like this….

“Lord, please simply grant me increased grace to trust you more. Wave after wave.”

When met with fear I’ve learned to attempt to make it specific. What is paralyzing my heart? Is it imagined? Is it an experience I’m reliving?

If it’s imagined fear claim faith bravely. Be specific to the Lord about what you fear and ask Him to strengthen you through your fear.

If it’s a fear based on experience claim His presence. It says in scripture God is near to the broken hearted. Ask for His presence to overcome the feelings around fear and grant you the grace to keep living both externally and internally.

Each wave offered me a reminder this time of how far I’ve come in four years:

• I am capable of balancing many things without abandoning myself or the needs within my own circle.

• Claiming wonder and awe in God’s presence around every corner is like the embrace of a kindred friendship.

• God loves us deeper and more abiding than I’ll ever fathom.

• God is good at reminding me, prompting me and moving me in a way that keeps my life and the lives of my tribe safe within His care. I will never be separated from His love.

• I am capable of producing, helping and giving hope…even as a limited, sinful and misunderstood human being. He is working through brokenness and creating fresh waves with each ebb and flow to my story. Almost as if the lullaby of waves this time was methodically putting my heart to restful cadence. A new song to the God of my life while standing in the night watches.

“Deep calls to deep at the sound of Your waterfalls; All Your breakers and Your waves have rolled over me. The Lord will command His loving kindness in the daytime; And His song will be with me in the night, A prayer to the God of my life.” Psalms 42:7-8

Hmmm, well that’s a bit of a tricky question.

This summer we’ve flown largely under the radar to the outside world, haven’t shared a ton of what we are doing on the daily and really just savored the proximity times we’ve been afforded. And recently when we were all together someone asked me “How have y’all remained so close?!”

Authentically my response is always the same - I’m grateful and gracious of course for their kind assumption over us somehow knowing a solution for closeness, but humbly we have absolutely no recipe to give.

None. Zilch. Nada.

Closeness has been an earnest prayer of mine, but the pathway to creating an authentically tight knit AND healthy family has not happened how I would have drawn it up. I will warn you - it’s costly. There’s pain in the offering. I wouldn’t go backwards in life to do anything over, but also wouldn’t trade the results of what God has created in my tribe.

All I know for sure is that we’ve walked THROUGH fires, deep waters & at times the darkest hells….TOGETHER. We’ve endured betrayal, health crisis, numerous moves, inconsistency, financial tension, abundance, growth, fought for one another’s dreams, been lonely together, navigated rejection, been uncomfortable, unseen, deeply loved and overwhelmingly committed to process over products. Once you fight in the same foxhole some of the fiercest battles you never expected to face and you realize only each other and God ultimately know just how hot the fire was, how deep the water was and how dark the hell felt being thick as thieves is a natural byproduct. Closeness happened because we are at times all we’ve had.

We have certainly not been passive. Confronting uncomfortable situations and being willing to pivot has been a watermark.

Moving creates accelerated manifestations. We’ve moved A LOT. When the ground moves inevitably your heart has to shift with it or you get left behind. Thankfully we aren’t necessarily moving again, although seasons are changing with sending another off the college soon, we still glean from those times when we moved so often.

I think some of what we’ve grown extremely comfortable with in regard to each other has been found in following ideas we learned over 20 years in raising a tribe….

• We have been disappointed and disappointed each other and STILL fight to find each other - relationally, emotionally, spiritually and physically in proximity when necessary.

• We stay curious about each other. We are each becoming new emotional and spiritual versions of ourselves every day. Important to never pour concrete around each other as if something new couldn’t create something new in each other.

• We relentlessly forgive each other. Unforgiveness is too heavy a burden to carry. We’ve been on the other side of not being forgiven ourselves and the fracture it causes is devastating.

• We respect each other and choose to demonstrate that respect to each other.

• We love each other and choose to demonstrate that love to each other.

• We trust each other and choose to demonstrate that trust to each other.

• We humbly learn how to be explicit with expectations on each other and the experiences with each other.

• We stay consistent to learn about each other at every new threshold. change reveals changes in each other. holding space for this is critical.

• We recognize humanness and give allowance for it. We forgive each other and demonstrate that forgiveness. Period. We don’t do superficial “I’m sorry-s” - We patiently and persistently deal with root issues to clear a space for healing not add superficial bandaids for pretend comforts. Generational bondage has been too heavy a burden for Toby and I to pass down to our children. Commitment to becoming, healthy boundaries when necessary and forward movement is of utmost value to our tribe.

• We have been a safe harbor for one another at various times. Each giving to the other when one feels strong and the other weak. In those times we’ve reminded each other as often as possible about abiding - about being with Christ to enjoy and be enjoyed by Christ. This posture is incorruptible no matter what circumstances we might be facing.

When I was a freshman in college I wore out the dixie chicks album. I remember driving around with friends windows down open fields all around and the dixie chicks blaring. Before I even knew what I wanted in life or had even started dating Toby Trotter I was merely a naïve girl with a handful of thoughts blowing on the breeze probably pretty close to the dixie chicks lyrical declaration to “break the earth in my hands and grow something wild and unruly” - that’s all I wanted. Simple right?!

Nah. Not simple. Actually really complex.

**Maybe that’s encouraging to you - it’s okay if it feels hard to build a tribe that’s close. I think it’s suppose to need a little emotional elbow grease and brave willingness to keep showing up. It’s okay if it’s uncomfortable too. It’s also okay if everything fell apart and you had to start all over. Been there too. It can even feel awkward - don’t worry about that - learning to walk didn’t look smooth at first either…and you didn’t give up trying to walk ;) don’t give up trying to create authentic closeness.

Thank goodness a few turns around the sun deepened my perspective, my desperations and my prayers. God has answered my naïve prayers and my rooted prayers because He’s just that kind, but not in the way I would have scripted. We’ve taken the earth God has put in our hands and we’ve allowed HIM to break it and grow something beautifully wild and unruly to earthbound narratives. And faithfully dependent on Him. By grace through faith our lives are entirely HIS.

So, the closeness that’s perceived by others about my tribe is authentically just a reflection of Him loving us deeply and walking with us hand in hand through fires, deep waters and dark hells as we’ve been wildly human, imperfectly surrendered and persistently in pursuit of His heart.

This summer I’ve read Charles Spurgeon devotional Morning and Evening pretty consistently and his writing on the spirit of abiding may very well be the best I’ve ever read in describing what feels indescribable. And the funny thing is he actually never uses the word “abiding” in his write up, but for us it is every bit the description of making Christ your permanent love through fires, deep waters and dark hells. Trying to define what abiding with the Lord or others proves difficult. Life changes too swiftly to find a rhythm with a specific bullet point. It’s such an emotional intangible decision to remain with the Lord and yet I do believe it becomes the single greatest habit you can form if closeness with each other is your goal. It supersedes all control or manipulation or vain expectations or disappointment and allows the ebb and flow of life as a tribe to continually go back to the Lord as central.

“We have many things in our possession at the present moment that can be shaken, and it is not good for a Christian to rely upon them, for there is nothing stable beneath these rolling skies; change is written upon all things. Yet we have certain “things that cannot be shaken” and I invite you this evening to thing of them - that if the things that can be shaken should all be taken away, you may derive real comfort from the things that cannot be shaken will remain. Whatever your losses have been or may be, you enjoy present salvation. You are standing at the front of Christ’s cross, trusting alone in the merit of His precious blood, and no rise or fall of the markets can interfere with your salvation in Him; no breaking of banks, no failures and bankruptcies can touch that. Then you are a child of God this evening. God is your Father. No change of circumstances can ever rob you of that. Even if by loss you are bright to poverty and stripped bare, you can still say, “He is still my Father. In my Father’s house are many rooms; therefore I will jog be troubled.” You have another permanent blessing, namely, the love of Jesus Christ. He who is God and man loves you with all the strength of His affectionate nature - nothing can affect that. The fig tree may dwindle and wander from the field, but it does not matter to the man who can sing, “My Beloved is mine, and I am His.” Our best portion and richest heritage we cannot lose. Whatever troubles come, let us play the man; let us show that we not like little children cast down by what happens to us in this poor fleeting state of time. Our country is Immanuel’s land, our hope is fixed in heaven, and therefore, calm as the summer’s ocean, we will see the wreck of everything earth born and yet rejoice in the God of our salvation.”

{Morning and Evening Charles Spurgeon; June 22 evening reading}

For further reading:

Hebrews 12:27

Psalms 103

1 Peter 5:10

Ephesians 3:14-20

I’ve spent my whole life under the burden of needing to have things figured out. And then once I don’t have things figured out it creates cycles of pain when I end up just as I am- a human, not a super hero, not someone who works from a master life plan. A human BEING breathing out a life becoming. I feel disappointed I can’t be more than human and fear with paralyzing anxiety I’ve disappointed others for the same reason. Figuring it all out as I’ve gone somehow doesn’t feel enough and yet that is all I’ve done…figured it out as it’s come. Adulthood has insisted I surrender to this chrysalis. To this desperate dependence on God’s creation to the life He formed and is still in the middle of forming in me. maybe it has come about because i’ve moved so much as an adult. maybe it’s come because i’ve navigated a health crisis. maybe it’s come because we have taken risks most would laugh at (& make sure we know they’re laughing). maybe it’s come because we’ve just not had a consistent commitment from others i dreamed was possible. maybe it’s come because it’s the original design for us as created beings to consistently all the way into Eternity allow the Master Craftsmen to work and weld His way within us - (more on this aspect of theology at some point. I’ve got lots of thoughts around us as art in the hand of the Master - but that’s for another post.) regardless of where it’s come from I’m merely a fuzzy 46-year-old human being crawling on the ground until one day I’m cocooned and by the grace of God transforming into a butterfly. I think this cycle happens over and over and over again in this life. Which ultimately sets me free from pouring concrete to stamp and date my life’s ambitions. Life is much more fluid which leaves room for something new to come out of something old repeatedly.

A couple of Fridays ago I wrote about how a small intimate life is brave. I still agree with what I wrote there. And yet it’s a constant struggle to remain tethered to the courage to grow through a small intimate becoming. Because it is just that - intimate. And intimate sometimes means quiet and quiet sometimes means process and process sometimes means sifting through the not so fun parts of life and sometimes sifting through those not so fun parts are what actually build a foundation to the life you imagine. I think at 46 years old with the number of life pivots I’ve made I’m somewhere in the “building a fresh foundation for the life I’ve always imagined but would never have chosen the pathway to get there” sort of cocoon. So, I’ve come here again to stay and root down and commit to showing up every Friday and maybe a little more as I’m curating a life becoming. To write it out. To picture it out. To work it out.

I use this word becoming a lot. Honestly, I feel like it could a be an overused word in culture without ever truly giving verse it what it means. Cue cringe.

Because honestly what does the word becoming even mean?!

I’m so glad we are asking the same question. When you look it up becoming means something along the lines of “to come into the position of something; to emerge.” It’s hard not to think of the process of a caterpillar becoming a butterfly. Not sure there is another process in creation quite like it as it defines becoming. You start as one thing and break forth as an entirely new version while still maintaining the previous version of yourself as a part of the process. You cannot become the butterfly without first being the caterpillar. So it is with life I think. You cannot become year to year without long suffering through the previous year to year. New parts of your life, your ideas, your experiences are a great revealing every day. A chrysalis.

I’ve entitled this summer an Ella Langley summer. Which I’ll be street level with you in saying it started out superficially just loving the vibes to her new album. However, it rapidly turned into the lyrics feeling as if she had journaled about a conversation we’d had together. Suddenly I’m crying over the words her and Miranda are conversing in Butterfly Season.

“That girl from last October

Right now I'd like to show her

Who we've turned into

How the flowers look in June

When we're on to something new

It's butterfly season, I'm finding my wings

A good time for leaving behind the old me

Headed for blue skies and lavender fields

Don't know where I'm landing, just know how it feels”

{Butterfly Season, Ella Langley}

If you’d told THIS GIRL in October how the flowers would look in June I would have listened to you, nodded my head in a kind southern gesture of civility and dismissed you as ridiculous. Probably would have judged your naive positivity and elevated my negative nelly approach to life as some sort of a badge of honor. Gross but true. And yet here at this crosswords of June slipping into July I’m watching wings slowly emerge behind me. I’m watching my life become in the middle of simple intimacy beneath my feet.

Curating a life becoming looks like noticing “how the flowers look in June” by pausing long enough to look with intention to simple intimacy stirring your affections and transforming your heart.

Kind of like…

• L’oréal lipstick in 805 Golden Splendor reminding me of my grandmother.

• Talking longer than expected with friends outside the gates of camp pickup.

• Letting the exchange be more than merely having coffee delivered - leaning in to listen to the wisdom & kindness delivered with it.

• Thrifting classic old t-shirts with my kids

• College Orientation for my daughter.

• Savoring every nook and cranny of a darling new gift shop.

• Running errands with my girls for face care products, snacks and great playlists.

• Sitting slow with what Godly wisdom actually means otherwise known as surrender - it always goes back to surrender.

For most of my life I’ve tagged “becomings” as destinations. Once I’m this then I’ll feel like this. Or once we arrive here then I’ll be an expert. Cue laughing. Nope. Becoming is small intimate moments cocooning together make a life. It’s the foolish idea of simple intimacy which creates a lasting legacy. It’s a good thing when God shames the wise I think this is welling up in me with simple foolishness. He takes what I deem as too broken, lost as sea, simpleton and crawling on the ground and uses it to transform me. Paul urges this posture to the corinthian church.

“But God has selected [for His purpose] the foolish things of the world to shame the wise [revealing their ignorance], and God has selected [for His purpose] the weak things of the world to shame the things which are strong [revealing their frailty]. God has selected [for His purpose] the insignificant (base) things of the world, and the things that are despised and treated with contempt, [even] the things that are nothing, so that He might reduce to nothing the things that are, so that no one may [be able to] boast in the presence of God. But it is from Him that you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God [revealing His plan of salvation], and righteousness [making us acceptable to God], and sanctification [making us holy and setting us apart for God], and redemption [providing our ransom from the penalty for sin], so then, as it is written [in Scripture], “He who boasts and glories, let him boast and glory in the Lord.” [Jer 9:24]”

‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭1‬:‭27-31‬ ‭AMP‬‬

So, I come here to content for a life becoming right beneath my feet. I also come to content for those of us that aren’t sure where it leads - for you I hope to share a little walk about my chrysalis which could include my home, my health or my heart. Small, simple, intimate snippets all speaking to a life in the middle of becoming.

I’m a nostalgic soul, probably a little more generationally driven to look for the narrow glow over the fast flash. Acknowledging our senses is important to being, as it should be to us all, however I believe there are parts about feeling I’ve had to uniquely spend a lifetime accepting about myself. Noticing the feeling of things deeply without the insecurity of being thought too much is one of those things. Like catching lightening bugs in a glass jar I like to savor, set the scene and watch for a soft simple glow in what I see, hear, taste, smell or feel - drenching my soul in all of it. Ambiance is important to me. I’ve spent decades running fast, over connecting, over sharing, splitting hairs, splitting time and splitting myself. Maybe I’m just older. Maybe I’m tired. But I also think I’m more motivated by what lasts. What feels timeless. I admit to my cult obsession as a stereotypical Nancy Myers meets Ralph Lauren kinda girl. So waking to rain, sitting in my semi finished redone front room, staring at my book shelves, feeling compelled to write and radically accepting a nostalgic impression about the simple life I’m living isn’t just my heart …I think it’s also your heart too.

*takes sip of extra hot Texas Honey Latte from the Herbster and hopes you’ll read on with me like two friends already invested in a deep conversation…

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Today is Friday which means over on Instagram I’ll share my favorites from the week. Friday favorites. I started this rhythm a few years ago setting my heart free from joining the barrage of constant updates and flashes to more of a contemplative invitation to the glow of favorites from the week I had decidedly been present for. It’s not an official movement by any means just an individual’s battle cry against consuming and trying desperately to savor small, simple, intimate moments in life.

Speaking of favorites how could I not acknowledge our Nancy Meyer’s best friend, Kathleen Kelly. Specifically her heart sitting at her desk at days end typing out the question I believe we all wrestle into the void. The question I myself mull over like a steeping tea bag in my mind.

“Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life - well, valuable, but small - and sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven't been brave? So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn't it be the other way around? I don't really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void. So good night, dear void.”

- Kathleen Kelly, You've Got Mail

I’ve spent the last few years teaching my mind’s eye to savor the sacred small moments and simple life I have. Radical acceptance really. Because I do have a small and simple life. However, having a small or simple life does not indicate insignificance, I would argue its meaning leans more towards intimacy. Glow over flash. Craving nuanced nooks and crannies with interesting details we miss when we go fast, build fast or reach for biggering just for biggerings sake. Ironically and iconically living a lifestyle of nook and crannie glows have been capture by both Nancy Myers and Ralph Lauren. Maybe that’s why we are all trying to passionately emulate the scenes they set. Like lightening bugs glowing in captured glass jars I crave capturing moments with a lingering glow to build memories. Which as I’ve said many times before it is what I believe the art to a life becoming.

Small or simple or sharing favorites on a Friday also does not mean without complexities. Life is complex no matter how much territory you cover. Betrayals, estrangements, releasing codependency, understanding how to love others to the glory of God more than you need them for your soul’s security, living boundaried, building deep over building up, bringing your heart and true self even if it disappointed some and was misunderstood by others - all complex. So simple does not mean uncomplicated.

I think the piece I wrestle with the most tension is a desire to be brave with my one life. I worry just like Kathleen that my craving for small or simple at this point in life possibly means not brave? Which could be true. I’ve had plenty of reasons to shrink away to preserve myself. To hide out behind the haystack of building a small life. But…I also sense with a deep longing that small means intimate which in this moment of history feels favorable to curating with intention the art of what all we are becoming.

I also know sharing my Friday favorites isn’t about living a perfect utopian life but about fighting for a returning to my truest love within the rubble - savoring the details that build out a storied life. The ones we watch and read and study over and over again like Nancy Meyers movies or Ralph Lauren rooms. We want to see what they see. We want to keenly create an environment for intimacy, for story, for becoming. And so we invade small moments in order to live out brave lives…

• to say yes to lingering and listening instead of rushing.

• to create a special meal on a regular night where it might not be posted but could be felt.

• to fill in a bookshelf slow with tribe nicknacks telling a story instead of just things to fill a space.

• to playing bananagrams and laughing about misspelling words like “existential”.

• to loving pink peonies and pink roses set just right in white milk glass.

• to crying during an orchestra performance of Come Thou Fount.

Maybe I’m crazy. Maybe small isn’t brave. Maybe what Kathleen Kelly and I are battling is a semantics issue. Regardless, romanticizing a small meaningful life, looking to curate intimacy, capturing a nostalgic glow all feels brave to me. So Friday Favorites it is…and coming here again to write possibly more about my favorites, to share and to see if there are others glowing brave with a life becoming slow, small, simple and intimate.

For further scripture study :

Ephesians 2

Revelation 2:1-5

Psalm 27

hello beloved becomings.

it’s good to see the dawn of summer breaking over the horizon. although as a mother the month of may can feel a little like uncontrolled chaos. maycember is seemingly fitting for all the month of may attempts to squeeze in. a december + may combo. it is the end of old things and the birth of new things. old horizons falling and fresh horizons rising.

i have written lots of words in the last month to finish up my graduate work. truthfully, i am feeling too many things to know exactly what i am feeling right now. being patient with myself as it all settles in. it is the conclusion of more than one journey. not just with graduate work. life chapters are closing off too. as the may sun begins to blaze i really don’t have much for us here other than the gift of someone else’s words. poetry from Mary Oliver. her piece entitled, The Journey, has become tremendously important to me. i believe her words frame the language we each feel as we keep going on the journey to becoming.

One day you finally knew what you had to do, 
and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice 
--though the whole house began to tremble 
and you felt the old tug at your ankles."Mend my life!"each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do, 
though the wind pried with its stiff fingers at the very foundations, 
though their melancholy was terrible.
It was already late enough, and a wild night, 
and the road full of fallen branches and stones.
But little by little, as you left their voice behind, 
the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, 
and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own, 
that kept you company as you strode deeper and deeper into the world, 
determined to do the only thing you could do 
--determined to save the only life that you could save.

Mary Oliver
The Journey

as some chapters close remember fresh ones always begin. allow a sweet and kind wisdom voice rise steady out of the previous season. be surprised by the strength God has given you and take a deep abiding breath to keep going.

more soon…until then, happy maycember to you.

xo,

cari

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I missed the deadline.

I am nearly finished with seminary.

I stopped after the beginning paragraph in tears. I’d just written a description of my listener. The one to whom I write all my words and draft all the talks and create all the concepts and curate all the beauty for becoming and the one I show up brave for….

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I have realized there are plenty of conditions for doubt in this world.

Doubt seems to have become our second nature to some extent. Doubting God’s goodness. Doubting God’s plan. Doubting God’s unconditional love. How could we not? Finding the conditions for faith amongst the rubble of life seems so much harder. What in the world could make us believe that faith would be worth it with so much loss or discouragement surrounding us. I am currently reading The Reason for God by Tim Keller and I love his approach to doubts:

“A faith without some doubts is like a human body without any antibodies in it. People who blithely go through life too busy or indifferent to ask hard questions about why they believe as they do will find themselves defenseless against either the experience of tragedy or the probing questions of a smart skeptic. A person’s faith can collapse almost overnight if she has failed over the years to listen patiently to her own doubts, which should only be discarded after long reflection. Believers should acknowledge and wrestle with doubts – not only their own but their friend’s and neighbors’. It is no longer sufficient to hold beliefs just because you inherited them. Only if you struggle long and hard with objections to your faith will you be able to provide grounds for your beliefs to skeptics, including yourself, that are plausible rather than ridiculous or offensive. And, just as important for our current situation, such a process will lead you, even after you come to a position of strong faith, to respect and understand those who doubt.”

To be authentic here I must confess living fully in happy days scare me. I’m insistently doubtful and insecure. Paralyzed by the fear of what might be lurking behind the shadows.

A stockpile of life…. feeling fears of being tolerated and working overtime to be truly accepted, disenchanting disappointments, real rejections, unhealthy expectations, and broken experiences the last few years have built a bit of a fortress around my heart.

I catch myself living skeptical of happy days and that breaks my heart. You may not think that about me catching a quick picture or video or brief exchange, but that’s what is true of the lens I see life through. Must of the things that make us human impact our response to joy more than pain. I want to surface with courage, but I’ll surrender my arrogance to say most days instead of being “hidden in Christ” I’d choose to “hide out in me”.

Faith isn’t always about walking brave through pain. Faith is also having the courage to embrace happy days. Hopelessness is a poverty of imagination. However, to be fair I think we could feel as if our imaged lives have failed us…and the truth is that they probably have. The juke with a biblical imagination is that it has roots and wings. The willingness to be hopeful ignites an imagination with a root system. Rooted strongly anchored in God’s unconditional love and wings free to fly in His endless wonder.

Last night the sky was on fire. Instead of indulging my knee jerk reaction to manage the beauty with the overlay of realism I simply surrendered my internal perspective to the uncontrollable offering of a God who loves me. It was a decision. It was as quick as a thought invading my mind. In the timeframe of an inhaled breath I had the opportunity to exhale a choice. To allow myself to be loved by the glow. By the way my people allowed themselves to enjoy it. By the fact that we were all together. Abiding not in the shadows, but in the God who holds our lot secure. This decision to receive didn’t happen because all the sudden I got brave. Or my doubts completely dissipated. It happened once I asked the Holy Spirit to help me receive what He was giving.

We are all powerless without the help of the Holy Spirit. Life is too hard and coming in too fast to register each moment. Fear and excitement share the same physiological reaction. The adrenaline that runs through the body when we are scared is the same as when we are excited. The difference is not in how our bodies react, but in how our mind interprets the moment. Regardless of the pain or the joy both lead to the same request: Lord, I am desperately dependent on you to help me.

We may not be able to ignore the aches in the background or the past days of acute struggle or the awareness of unknown futures. Truly, every one of those thoughts flew through my mind like a phoenix in an instant of decision. I ultimately think it is okay for joy to seem vulnerable. It is. It exposes our desperate need for a greater imagination about our lives than we are currently capable of believing. But I genuinely want to encourage our doubt beaten hearts to receive the wonder of bliss this month. If even for a few moments each day. Distilled down to the concentration of its flavor. Allowing it to be the moment it is and nothing more or less.

Because as the days creep into weeks slipping into months the years are passing by. There will be plenty of shadows, but the evening walks with fire sunsets with my tribe are setting beneath the horizon like a vapor. And somewhere tucked down deep inside my willingness to receive these moments of joy in the midst of any doubt I’m allowing the Lord to truly BECOME my strength and song.

Be gracious to yourself if this resonates. May I offer an encouragement to stop pulling yourself up by your bootstraps. It is okay if it’s hard. Be gentle on your heart. Surrendering your expectations on how you think things should have gone. How you wish things would have gone. You’ve walked through hard days. God will help you receive good days now too. Let every day this month come in slow. Ask for the Lord to specifically forgive your craving for controlling outcomes or rejecting good days with pervasive dread of what might be ahead. You aren’t alone. It’s okay if you’ve experienced something happy while also navigating hard things too. Just as the Christmas anthem says, “We are victors in the midst of strife”. Happy days can coincide hard days all while we are allowing the Lord to become our strength and our song.

Three ideas to help as we experience Joy:

1.     When you feel anxiousness creep into a moment of Joy breath. Simply take a deep breath. Close your eyes and breath in and out.

2.     Then look. Truly look around you and notice what is happening. Consider engaging your 5 senses to formulate a memory around the experience of Joy NOW.

3.     Journal a quick note or take a picture to remember this experience of Joy when you need to build up your faith.

Art of Becoming ideas this month:

1.     The Reason for God by Timothy Keller

2.     Reading Psalm 118 out loud slowly at the beginning and end of each day.

3.     Ask the Holy Spirit to help you see small moments of Joy every day. Maybe even keep a note on your phone or small journal by your bedside to jot them down each night. At the end of the month you could have up to 31 experiences of Joy to recall.

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The Groundhog didn’t see his shadow this morning.

This means Spring will come early.

This also asserts sometimes God breaks the patterns life has forced us into.

This is a very important phenomenon as we so desperately clammer for a new becoming. Things don’t always go inline with a disappointed long suffering narrative. I know it has taken us years to build our garrisons around broken hearts, disappointed dreams or let down expectations. To attempt to become among the rumble. But after struggling to get my own heart willing enough to shake off the shadows of old patterned insecurity and write out a newsletter to you….The Groundhog interrupts me and this morning’s news had me clicking away a letter to you in minutes.

I woke up groggy not even remembering it was Groundhog Day. I’ve admittedly been underneath a week of the flu. It has been miserable. To remember it was Groundhog day feels like a stretch. Truthfully, I cannot recall the last Groundhog Day worth remembering when it wasn’t 6 more weeks of winter.

Until today.

Not that I’m down on winter, but maybe I’m a little down on winter at this point. Maybe I’m a little down on seeing shadows too.

And then while I was pulling the blackening bacon out of the oven my daughter slides into the kitchen announcing in her fuzzy uggs, “THE GROUNDHOG DIDN’T SEE HIS SHADOW! SPRING IS COMING!” A dance party ensues on the spot. Right there in the kitchen dressed in my amazon prime blue striped jammies and quilted robe around steaming scrambled eggs, blackened bacon and texas pecan coffee swirling with French Vanilla creamer around my usual Friday mug - we are dancing for Spring. Wont’ HE DO IT. In the middle of our redundant routine there has been a notable vibe shift.

God interrupted the pattern. All the sudden it would seem Becoming is certain.

This news makes February feel like the first month of the New Year. A true vibe shift in the narrative towards something fresh, something unexpected, something adventurous. A dispelling of shadows. Something to help unravel the narrative of disappointment or pain or frustration we so carefully monitor. God desires the Hope of Spring while we wait through Winter.

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Our hearts, our homes, our health and the stories we tell ourselves need this shift desperately don’t we? As I continue to grapple with how to explain what it means to become with the Lord I find the patterns we follow coming into play. What historically might happen each week, month or year formulates narratives in our hearts, our homes and our health. How we trust the comforts of even the misfortunes we’ve experienced and forget to look to our God that breaks patterns and norms and redundancy to stir our Hope up fresh. To break up the shadowy night and interrupt the pattern.

If all goes according to plan I will graduate with my Masters from Dallas Theological Seminary this coming May. This semester I am taking a course entitled Genesis to Revelation. In a recent lecture the professor brought a point to light that interrupted the reading of the genealogies. “Take notice of where the Lord breaks the pattern?”

They lived, they died, they lived, they died, they lived, they died, walked with God and were no more, they lived, they died, they lived, they died…….wait what……

Did you catch it? Broken pattern. Not what was expected. Not the narrative that was one foot in front of the other. Not the rehearsed order. Not what seemed to follow the pattern being established. God used Enoch and broke camp on normal.

“And [in reverent fear and obedience] Enoch walked with God; and he was not [found among men], because God took him [away to be home with Him].” Genesis 5:24

No shadow of death. Just Eternity. Broken Pattern of ends towards a Merciful Eternal Adventure.

I don’t want to spend this first newsletter of 2024 over romanticizing Groundhog Day or Spring or patterns or Punxsutawney Phil, but I do want to romanticize the beauty of acknowledging a God that refuses to be contained in what narratives we tell ourselves even based on spiritual experiences, or His allowances, or pain or long-suffering. Today shakes the earth in my created heart to the Eternal God I serve that still surprises us with breaking the narrative of human patterns we at times mindlessly rut ourselves into.

This is critical. To know deeper how we understand our willingness to allow the Lord to become our strength and our song even among surprise Groundhog days.

Let me say it another way. Dead Poet’s Society is one of my favorite movies. There is a scene where Professor Keating is attempting to challenge the boys attending the prestigious college prep school over the way they fall into generational institutional patterns mindlessly. They hear a beat or see a line and fall in. He has them walk around the school yard at random at first clapping and marching. Without any instruction they all begin to walk in a circle together marching and clapping to a beat. They create a pattern. It is human nature to build expectations around a perceived pattern of happenings. I am asserting to us a growing fear in our lives as believers that have been so beat down, defeated, disappointed, disillusioned we are beginning to drift into a pattern of living, dying, living, dying expecting to manage our disappointments and inclined to miss God Himself breaking the pattern.

Our brains do this. It finds a pattern and follows the line. Where experience could be a teacher to train us towards wisdom [and I see wisdom as a positive pattern!] the pattern of life defeats could create so many shadows our spiritual brains begin rehearsing how to manage expectations, anticipate disappointment, and mindlessly follow the patterns of 6 more weeks of winter.

What if our narratives shift all the sudden? What if suddenly the Groundhog doesn’t see his shadow and the shadows of winter we have grown accustomed to dodging disappear with the warmth of Spring’s sunshine? Will we be humble enough to see it and break the pattern spiritually, emotionally, and mentally too? To break into Hope alongside God?

Because Spring could be right around the corner or still a few weeks away, BUT TODAY the pattern of the last few years of long overbearing winters was interrupted with this thought: it may not last as long as you think.

I needed the interruption. I am actually convicted over how desperately I needed it. Actually had to have my daughter say it again. Then I had to watch the actual Punxsutawney Phil’s Prediction video on the weather app. The glee and happiness of those surrounding Phil on Gobler’s Knob gave me an unreasonable hilarity towards Hope. I am increasingly aware as the day has continued on just how entwined my heart had grown accustomed to managing disappointment rather than Hoping in a Springtime Savior.

We need Spring. We need broken patterns. Of course we need organization. We have been created by a God who created order out of chaos. But we also crave the adventure of the unexpected. The interrupted pattern. Even the most predictable among us. We crazy the possibility of all not being as it might seem. We click bait the best of them on the unexpected surprise story no one saw coming, but everyone needed. Something deep within our created beings begs to see the pattern break. The bloom emerge from the darkness. The sun burst from out from behind the gray clouds.

God wants to surprise us, becomings.

historically, this month of love has become a month of Ebenezer stones for me.

Where “God has been my help”.

When Samuel marked an Ebenezer in 1 Samuel 7:12 he was also acknowledging the children of Israel coming back to the Lord. So it should be with us - the deep heart place to work through the messy middle of acknowledging false worship, idols and surrender all over again - how desperately dependent and vulnerable it feels to place your full trust in God alone.

Whether you are seen or not.

Whether it is popular or not.

Whether it feels good or not.

Whether you know the outcomes or not.

Stacking stone by stone.

Where God has been our help.

The month of February marks the beauty of life, substantial anniversaries of loss right alongside the anniversaries of miracles. I’m stepping back today and I realize its a month where God has historically broken patterns. We have birthdays we will celebrate the next couple weeks. Then we will turn around and celebrate the anniversary of when my health story changed forever with a diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis. Then we will turn right around and celebrate where I was given a miracle and healing from MS. Broken patterns.

Here is what I am desperate to hear myself and I am grappling around the right language to get you to hear the same thing: It isn’t always they lived, they died…..sometimes its they were caught up with a supernatural God outside of space and time who interrupted the pattern of disappointment with an early Spring.

Life is lived in the juxtaposition of the now and the not yet. Remain hopeful in affliction and steadfast in winter seasons of suffering. Spring is coming.

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part II of a vlog message about a supernatural meal below for becoming subscribers….

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“then the Lord said to Moses, “behold, I am about to rain bread from heaven for you and the people shall go out and gather a day’s portion every day….” {Exodus 16:4}

vlog message below for my beloved becoming subscribers….xo

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here in dallas, texas we have a series of charming streets named the M streets. we’ve got three “M streets of scripture” i believe we are all invited to walk down as believers. some may feel more charming than others, but the collection goes together.

plus i think its an easy way to remember the progression of our study ahead…..below is a little monday video intro from me for the days of study ahead. i hope you will follow along, invite others to join and glean encouragement in your own journey down the M streets of life. honored you are here. love you so.

xo,

cari

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Hope purifies. This is a new thought to me. I've not always considered connecting my ability to hope ultimately leading to the purification of my mind, will and emotions, but the truth is that Hope does just that - it purifies. Hope is the heat that burns away the dross of disappointment, discouragement or depression. Hope clarifies purpose and passion. And to connect Hope to heat is only right.

I was dropping all my people off to school early one morning several years ago and while driving back home I took a sip of my coffee and decided it needed a reheat. I do this all day until the coffee is gone. I am relentless in my reheats. Because who wants to drink lukewarm coffee?! As I am thinking about my microwave and reheating my coffee the thought rumbles back around in my head, “reheating your coffee is what Hope does to your faith.” Hope is the heat. It's the microwave agent to ignite my life with fresh faith. Without it my soul cools off to lukewarm and unintentionally becomes indifferent about the Kingdom invading my reality.

There have been several places I feel in between decisions. Wrestling through belief can be tricky sometimes. We see some miracles we have believed for a long time beginning to formulate, but we are also tempted to believe they are so far off its pointless to Hope in them ever coming to fruition. It dawned on me this morning through some scriptures the Holy Spirit reminded me of that not hoping keeps me lukewarm in my obedience to pursue God, life and spiritual activity with hot passion.

Hoping, no matter how risky and vulnerable it might seem, heats up my life with passion. It generates fresh possibility and before I know it I am on fire for the things of God and walking in spaces only possible with His activated involvement in my life.

Here are 3 reasons to do a Hope reheat:

My mind: Hope purifies my mind. Meaning as I give way to Hope it heats up my thoughts to be full of faith in whatever I need to see God motivate my mind with instead of drowning in poisonous thought patterns like depression, defeat and discouragement. As I allow my mind to stay focused on Hope in Jesus to be mighty to save my mind is purified. It's cleansed.

My will: Hope purifies my will. Meaning as I give way to Hope by faith in the goodness of the future God has planned for me my will {another word for ambitions, projects, calling, and future} is purified. It's cleansed.

My emotions: Hope purifies my emotions.....ya'll nothing needs more purification than my emotions. Passion for Jesus can be a trusted aviation tool, unsanctified emotions are a horrible navigation device. Meaning as I give way to Hope it cleanses my emotions to be rooted in God's thoughts and plans for me and I redirect toxic emotions like offense, unforgiveness, or anger that could all threaten my healthy understanding of my circumstances. Hope purifies my emotions.

Let's walk into the weekend with HOT HOPE sweet friends. No lukewarm meandering for us. Let's reheat our coffee and our Hope for healing, for jobs, for dreams, for miracles, for relationships, for opportunity, for all the NEW works God wants to do in and through our lives....let's allow the heat of Hope purify our minds, wills and emotions to live passionate for the Kingdom of God.

Where is God inviting you into Hoping by faith this weekend?

In 2018 I wrote a blog post entitled flip the furniture. This past weekend I needed to revisit those thoughts while doing furniture flips and closet guts in my now house. It is time to refresh what’s been moved, my friends. To sift through what transitioned with my Trotter Tribe 6 months ago and now decide what needs to go, what needs to get organized or what needs to flip around. It’s time to make room figuratively and literally for a fresh season. I would love for you to throw it back with me and read the full post HERE…below is a small portion of my thoughts then that seem to still resonate now….

“It's astounding how the consistency of a season of harsh unforgiving circumstances can lower your expectations. I get it. I have certainly lived it. The important thing to remember is to stay aware of when you are authorized to march into a new season of promises and flip the furniture and step in. Making war against the propensity to continue carrying a defeated spirit that would have to lower expectations is paramount to receiving the fullness of Promises and Miracles.

I say let's banish old habits and stretch our faith, timid as it may feel, towards lifted expectations to see a movement of God through all we have navigated. Let’s look to the final months of the year with hopeful hearts. And yes, I am saying "WE" because anytime I am sharing with you about my life I am under the assumption we are walking together. So let's lift our expectations to the expectations of a High God who wants to satisfy more than our mere hunger pains. God desires to see us feast on the goodness of His graces. Flip the furniture on watered down expectations - Flip the furniture around by faith and let's take the vantage point of Heaven to risk seeing great blessings coming towards us as we tackle life head on.

Hope deferred certainly can weaken even the strongest heart. One of my favorite Christmas movies is "Its a Wonderful Life" and in its opening scene the angels are discussing George Bailey's problems and one angel says to another "No, worse...he's discouraged." Nothing can kill hope like discouragement. But nothing can make a life rise to the fullness of it's overcoming power like Hope. That's why there is such a great fight against your life being filled with Hope. All your sufferings are not to be grieved. Truly. They are to be celebrated and even if it takes all remaining strength to HOPE AGAINST ALL HOPE - stand firm and HOPE. "Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces HOPE, and HOPE does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us." {Romans 5:3-5} And our HOPE? Our HOPE actually purifies our hearts and renews our energy. When you feel overcome by defeat prayerfully ask for God to negotiate fresh HOPE from some aspect of your life and the ground you are currently occupying. DECIDE to believe and allow HOPE to rise within you. It will purify your soul, regenerate your mind and clarify your thoughts. Flip the spiritual furniture and choose hope.

When I flip my furniture and gut my house I am motivated to create space for expanded growth and more effective hospitality. It produces an atmosphere for more effectiveness if my tribe and the company we keep are not cluttered by old things. In 2018 let's flip the spiritual furniture in full expectation it will produce for us expanded effectiveness. No more stagnant relationships. No more stagnant dreams. No more stagnant emotional circles. No more shame. No more unredeemed guilt. No more fear. Let's let some people off the hook in our lives, offer forgiveness so everyone gets the benefit of expanded effectiveness. Let's allow some new levels of obedience to push us past our self preservation. Flipping the furniture with you and ready to feel a fresh sense of space for growth.”

Do you ever wish you could hit the eject button in life?

You find yourself in a suffering space and you want to escape?

Several months ago I spent time talking with my dear friend, Heather, on her podcast Don’t Mom Alone about how my health crisis in 2021 gave me an intimate learning curve on how to suffer with patience.

Listen to our conversation here.

My identity was stripped, my health was tossed upside down, my expectations were insecure and God became my TRUE strength and song.

Although my health has steadied and in Jesus name I have found a rhythm in establishing God’s miracle journey in my story I am STILL learning the value of walking daily with the Lord as my strength and my song. To occupy the spaces God has authorized in my life.

God led me into a space I would not have taken myself, I have learned how to surrender and follow Him no matter where that might take me. My hope and trust is not in my health, my hopes, my expectations or even in my healing…my only HOPE is in Jesus. Though the road has not been easy, it is a place God has met me with His faithful lovingkindness.

Heather included my story in her most recent book, Right Where You Belong. I cannot encourage you enough to snag a copy and feel encouraged by her heart in this message. God has given YOU a space to occupy well and she puts language to these ideas with such grace and strength.