I was there in my usual car line spot. And my latest consumption of Dunkin Donuts coffee (the best coffee EVER) was keeping me from my routine 30 minute car line nap. As I stared into space trying to think of something to write for this new blog home of mine, I witnessed something in the distance that grabbed me. There was a reason I had writer’s block in that moment.

A Mom was rushing out of the school towards her vehicle because the rain was beginning to come down.

She landed at a very nice swagger wagon to retrieve her umbrella. As the bright blue over-sized umbrella popped open, I noticed one of the cafeteria ladies walking towards this Mom to get to her own car that was further ahead.

I could tell she had walked quite a distance without an umbrella.

She looked tired.

Worn.

And no amount of rain would make her move any faster than she was already moving.

As I watched the woman with the umbrella lock up her car, she quickly moved to the opposite side of the sidewalk and to my surprise ran past the cafeteria lady with no offer to walk side by side to cover both of them under the over-sized umbrella.

In the moment I quickly judged that Mom. What was wrong with her!?!

Then He made me realize.

How many times had I personally done this very same thing when someone needed to experience the reality of grace? How many times had I ran the other direction to avoid giving grace to an individual because it was inconvenient, out of my comfort zone, or I just didn’t “feel” like giving it?

Giving grace to someone doesn’t take any grace “away” from us. It’s a limitless resource. And any disturbance it causes in our lives is usually good. At times we need our routines shaken up from the numbness we walk around in.

We are GIVEN grace in mass quantities in order to GIVE grace in mass quantities – with no ulterior motives or strings attached.

What encounter have you experienced lately that made the reality of grace hit home for you?

Dinosaurs and dragons rule. So much so, he wants to have a baby pet dragon. Seriously.

Legos are to be grouped by color. They can not mix.

Chicken nuggets must have the breading eaten off first. Then the “naked chicken” can be consumed.

Some clothes are just too “scratchy” to be worn.

Bricks and rocks all have a texture that enthralls him.

On occasion, when he is unable to communicate his frustrations, he feels the need to bang his head against something. Literally.

And he is highly emotional during “intense” movie moments that Toy Story, Megamind, or Monsters, Inc. can bring. (i.e. “The bad guy needs to stop being a bully.”)

Our gifted seven year old is in the final “stages” of being “officially” diagnosed with Aspergers, the high functioning side of Autism. His gift of Aspergers has challenges. However, those challenges are swallowed by the reality of how he is a gift to our family. Alex has opened our eyes to view a world we would otherwise miss.

He is a very detailed little boy. “Small” things are often more important to him than the big. He views life in complete simplicity. And he believes life is best savored at a slower pace – no matter how late you are getting to school. His big heart, brilliant mind, and tenacious soul converge together to explode a creativity that no other human will dispense into this world. Alex refuses to be placed in a box or have a label slapped on him.

According to his own words when he meets people, “I’m just Alex”.

This little guy has taught me much since he made his presence known. And he has no clue.

Alex could care less what others think. I’m learning how no matter what, be completely you.

Alex could care less about a schedule. I’m learning how to soak in the day – not gulp it down or else I’ll miss out on things like the school planting new pansies by the exit.

Alex could care less if his paper, colored pencils, and crayons are covering the floor like a rug. I’m learning how messy is ok. That’s when creativity is at it’s finest.

Aspergers isn’t a label to control Alex or our family.

It’s a way to have the world revealed to us in ways we would otherwise miss.

What one gift does your child bring to your family?

I’ve been in church my entire life. And currently I’m part of a refreshing, imperfect church that I adore.

Yet to be completely honest I am struggling a bit with the general view that the church is the best thing ever – words I have heard all my life.

I know Jesus started “her”. Called “her” His “bride”. And talked about “her” often. I just see “her” becoming more and more like a high-society club. The kind where you have to hide your true self to gain acceptance and approval.

Back in the day (which was several months ago), I would say in response to my statement above : ” We just need to step back and realize that people fill up the churches. And people are imperfect and will always mess up.”

And I do agree with that – to a point.

I believe we are making too many excuses that condones the church’s current lifestyle of impotence.

Where are the churches that kick ass and change the world by OPENLY engaging with past AND current drug dealers, prostitutes, human traffickers, sex offenders, ex-cons – aka the rejects of society?

Where are the churches who are helping those demographics get past the labels that both society and themselves are using? And not just through a cold, generic support group. But tangible engagement through support, community, and meeting them where they are at with no other agenda except to make grace less scarce.

Yes, it’s messy and would present some challenges, but that’s the way it was when the church first started over 2,000 years ago.

I want to be in the middle of the messiest community of people, limping side by side discovering the reality of love, faith, and grace colliding in our lives.

I don’t have all the solutions and I am no expert,  but can we start the dialogue? 

I’m slightly broken.

And I don’t like saying that out loud. It’s quite painful saying it.

Who knows how many eyeballs landing on those words will subconsciously begin judging me or think how I need to be “fixed”.

This past week I’ve had a “fight” on several fronts.

Children with school issues.

Dealing with legal issues that are three damn years old and finding out it could take another year – or longer.

Forgetting to give four teachers a present before the holiday break. (Small in the grand scheme of things, but that “perfect Mom” label is relentless.)

And a body showing signs that it just can’t handle my addiction to food any longer no matter how comfortable I am (or my hubby is) with my “wobbly bits” (yes… Bridget Jones. Go Netflix it).

Right now I am in a raw season.

Processing all of this while trying to figure out who the hell I am at 32 years old.

Not who I’m suppose to be.

Not who others want me to be.

But who is this woman that God has taken so much time to create, pursue, grow, and love passionately?

This woman is trying to demolish the labels I have within different circles of  my community, however the most sticky ones are stuck in my own mind.

I’m processing through a mind and heart that feels scrambled a little.

A mind that is a little scared to process through it all on my own, let alone allowing anyone else in on it over the fear that they will run as far as possible.

Or judge.

Because I’m Karen. The happy one.  The one with the pink faux hawk who is always happy and encouraging. The fearless leader.

However, sometimes the happy girl struggles too. And when she is leading the charge, sometimes she is shaking the whole time in her black corduroy Tom’s questioning herself and her abilities.

And that is ok. It’s ok to not be ok. I’m simply refusing to stay there.

Daily I have to make the choice in not being fearful of the “mess” any longer.

I don’t need to be “fixed” as some would think.

I’m learning. I’m being stretched. And all the boxes I’ve kept everything in are being crushed one by one.

It’s all for good.

I just need to give myself some grace so I don’t miss the lesson or any part of this journey.

Perhaps the main lesson through all of this is on grace itself.

The power of it. The hugeness of it. The reality of it.

They are very hard to pull off. And they usually leave behind some kind of goo or small piece of itself to give a subtle reminder of what once was stuck there.

Labels.

I battle them like crazy.

Lately, the goo from labels past has rubbed some places of my heart raw.

When I personally struggle with something it has always equated in my mind as not being “good enough”. And not being “good enough” is not…you know… good. It means failure. And it always meant I would have to quit any kind of work or art that I have a passion for until I became “good enough”, “smart enough”,  ”humble enough”, “sorry enough”, “repentant enough”, or just simply “enough” to do what I love and was created to do even through my imperfections.

Crazy, messy cycle.

I know.

I could do the blame game and say it’s because of the abusive, cult-like “church” I spent the first 16 years of my life in.

But that was 16 years ago.

I’m now 32.

It’s time to completely take any and all power away from past labels that have whispered lies to me for years.

They are suffocating not only my potential but my now.

I am called to live FREE from ANY label.  And I am making the choice to accept that reality.

I wouldn’t be processing all of this if it wasn’t for the bold campaign of “Labels Lie” from People of the Second Chance. An organization making grace tangible and scandalous. An organization who believes in me, my potential, and most of all in my now.

Be brave. Join me in taking the labels off.

Right here. In your now. I believe in you.

I use to say it all time.

I love ice cream. I love the color red. I love music. I love clothes. I love shoes. I love mod podge. I love school supplies. I love books. I love words. I love Old Navy. I love Ikea. I love Twitter. I love Pinterest.

Get the idea?

I loved everything and everyone.

It took a lesson from a very wise friend to help me realize we were created to be very focused in our love. I’ve basically been robbing love of it’s true meaning all my life.

We were created to love God and people. Period.

Everything else is to be enjoyed and/or liked.

I am learning it devalues the God and the people I truly love when I place ice cream in the same category. 

And the truth is I don’t really love ice cream. I enjoy it (a little too much – look at my Facebook pictures for proof), but I’m not in love with it.

When I divide up my love among all the things in this life that I really only enjoy, it has the potential to take away some of the passion and love I have for God and people. Which in turn makes me less effective in sharing a love that people so desperately need.

I’m not perfect at this by any means. I’ve said I love everything for over 30 years. So it will take some time to re-train my brain and mouth.

But what’s so amazing about learning it now, is that it enables me to teach laser-focused love to my boys at the ages of 9 and 7. My 9 year-old is already correcting me when I slip. They get to learn this now instead of in their 30′s. And their deeper understanding of love is going to change this world.

“Love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence. This is the most important, the first on any list. But there is a second to set alongside it: Love others as well as you love yourself.” [Matthew 22.37-39]