Lessons from 2011

While everyone’s talking about what they’re leaving behind in 2011, I’m thinking about what I’m holding onto. 2011 taught many lessons that I want to bring into 2012 with me. Here’s what I want to remember throughout 2012:

It doesn’t need to be perfect, but it does need to get done.

Often, the biggest obstacle is the belief that I can’t.

Now is precious. Take advantage of it.

It’s better to work on something for just 10 minutes than to not work on it at all.

If your home isn’t together, it’s hard for the rest of your life to be together.

Chopping. Running. Walking. Cooking. These things are good for me.

15 minutes of play a day makes me happy.

Artist’s dates keep me happy.

God doesn’t just give us what’s good for us; He gives us what’s good-tasting to us.

In fact, in Him is abundance. I just need to walk in it.

Love, however short-lived, is always worth the experience.

Everything will happen--in its time.


Happy New Year!

I'm Thankful For

• Friends who make me laugh and think
• Family whom I count as friends
• Julia Cameron's book, The Artist's Way
• The gift of creativity and the joy that it brings
• Coffee shops that house comfy couches and apple cider
• Advent
• My netbook that travels with me almost daily
• Work that I adore
• The possibilities that the future holds

What The Resurrection Means to Me

When I was a little girl, Easter was about new floral dresses, freshly pressed hair, and an Easter basket filled with Cadbury bunnies (You know the ones with the creamy centers?)  Dressed in our Sunday's best, my mom, dad, sister and I would go to church and celebrate Jesus' resurrection.

Now that I'm adult, Easter means so much more to me, and I find that each year brings a richer meaning.  Fully immersed in this third decade of life, my celebration of the Resurrection isn't mostly about the fact that I am forgiven of my many wrongs, flaws, and issues (AKA sin).  It isn't based solely on the fact that I am forever reconciled to my Father God through his son, Jesus Christ.  What I'm most excited for this Easter is the fact that because of Christ, I can also be reconciled to my neighbor--the one who odiously injured me and made me want to hit her. Again. Because of Christ's work on the cross, I can forgive her, when a part of me doesn't want to, because the rest of me knows that through Christ, I too am forgiven.  (So how then, could I not forgive?)

This Easter, I am excited that through Christ's work, black and white people can forgive each other for all past and present wrongs, and be reconciled in true love and brotherhood.

This Easter, I am happy that rich Christians can give generously to poor Christians, because as a part of Christ's reconciling body, we are one.

I am overjoyed this Easter that Jesus is truly the answer for every societal ill and every personal issue. He has dominated sin, and death, and every other icky thing in this life and beyond.  He is God. He reigns supreme.

This Easter, I am happy not only to be in his fold, but to know Him as a friend.  Happy Easter!

Making the Least of It

A few weeks ago, I entered the scariest season of my life.  I felt a mass in my right breast, and a cloud of questions and fears enveloped me, ironically clearing my vision.


Questions emerged: What if I only have one year left to live?  Two?  Three? What would I do? What would I not do?


I realized that I would:

• Hike, and Swim, and Be Outside more.
• Write more about my life following Jesus, as it has been the joy of my life.
• Smile.  Because smiling is so much more fun than frowning.
• Get married. (Cause I want to share my life with someone.)  And have sex.

I realized that I wouldn't:

• Worry about my life and future plans.
• Care about what people think about me. (Any more than I currently don't.)
• Buy many more material things. Instead, I'd just give the money away.
• Do any work that doesn't bring me joy.
• Complain about the end being near because every single day has been a gift from God.

So, instead of doing more with my life, I find myself wanting to do less.

Thanksgiving

This year, I am thankful for:

• Family whom I would be friends with even if we weren’t related.
• The amazingly good, fattening food that I gobbled down on Thanksgiving, guilt free.
• The fact that Jesus holds onto me, even when I don’t hold onto Him.
• An accountability partner who listens compassionately through all of my rants.
• A job! (A lot of people don’t have one right now.)
• A job I really like. (Most people don’t have this, ever.)
• A side hustle. (A sista’s gotta keep busy!)
• Another side hustle. (Cause two is better than one?)
• The fact that I don’t have to cook most nights because I live with a chef.
• My Macbook, which is still going strong after five years.
• The art of writing.
• Facebook. (It’s just fun.)

6 Lessons Being Broke Taught Me

I never cared much for money or material things, hence my contentment with years of employment in the non-profit sector. I’ve been fine to buy most of my clothes on sale at Macy’s, T.J.Maxx, and ROSS. (I’ve purchased dresses for $0.99 before.) But now that I have a “respectable” income and way more money than expenses, I find myself missing the good ‘ole days of being broke.

(Now let me qualify the word “broke” here. This isn’t the kind of broke where you can’t go on vacation where you typically go due to a shortage of funds. And this isn’t the kind of broke where you can’t get your nails done every week cause you’re cutting back.)

This is the kind or of broke where you debate if you can afford to spend a dollar at Del Taco cause your stomach is barkin at you, but you don’t typically eat at Del Taco because who knows if that’s really meat in those tacos. This is the kind of broke where you don’t drive anywhere (outside of work) because your gas has to last you until…  This is the kind of broke where your friends only invite you out if they’re footin the bill because everybody close to you knows that you ain’t got no money.

So, here’s what being broke taught me:

1. Getting more usually leads to wanting more.

Once you get one more pair of jeans or another pair of shoes, you just want another one—this one in a different fabric, or cut, or color. Desire breeds desire, and contentment is a shunned enemy.

2. Sometimes, you have to make tough choices.

Which is worse: Going an additional $15 into debt because you are too proud to tell someone that you don’t have the money to go out with them for lunch or risking embarrassment by being honest and potentially being treated to a good meal?

3. Just how important money is.

It isn’t everything, but everything you want to do involves it. Making it (or having access to it) is paramount. I no longer have any idealistic, youthful notions about money. In fact, I respect it a lot more now, as I do the good book’s advice: “Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said, ‘Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.’”

4. Although it’s rare to get something for nothing, bartering is a beautiful, underutilized practice.

For more than a year, I managed to get free pictures in exchange for posing for free. I traded my smile for photos. Check out my website (www.yougochante.com) to see the results!

5. Having less leads to greater appreciation for what you do have.

One of my favorite activities is finding a quiet nook at Starbucks or a local bookstore and reading or writing leisurely for hours, a cup of hot cocoa in hand. At the zenith of my broke days, however, I might be able to afford one excursion every four to six weeks. But when I did, I savored the experience. I walked into Starbucks, a smile on my face, and thanked God for the opportunity to be able to purchase a drink, and not be one of the coffeehouse “moochers” who plugged in without purchasing a single item. I would read my book, knees tucked into my chest, and feel true gratefulness. I wasn’t thinking about all the times that I couldn’t purchase a drink. I was thankful for the one that I was having in that moment.

6. I want to live a life of continual gratefulness, even though I’m not broke any more.

Right now, I sit in my living room as I write. I was going to drive to Borders, but I didn’t want to spend three dollars on a drink. (I don’t think my frugal ways will ever leave me.) So instead I write snuggled up in a sleeping bag on my couch, grateful that I have a quiet, cozy place from which I can work. In fact, I’m grateful just to have a couch and a home.

What has being broke taught you?