GABRIELA YARELIZ

Secret Santa

By: Gabriela Yareliz

I heard someone at the entrance of Bath and Body Works talking about how he needed a Secret Santa gift under $35 when the employee asked what he was looking for. It has been a while since I had heard about Secret Santa, but now I hear the phrase floating around more, given the season. People aren’t always fans of this whole draw-a-name-from-a-bucket situation. It really sucks when you get someone you don’t know well or aren’t fond of.

I recall when I was a kid, my church was doing it. I don’t remember the details because I was probably seven or so, but I had an adult assigned to me. Some Sabbaths, we would get a token or two, and then, on the date closest to Christmas, we would get the final gift. I remember that I received a Play-Doh set on that final day. I was enthralled. I remember that the person who was assigned to me wasn’t someone I normally interacted with much, but after that display of generosity and thoughtfulness, I saw them differently. Long after that exchange, I remember exchanging smiles with this person and saying hello. He was no longer a stranger.

Regardless of how you feel about these gift exchanges, I was reminded by this memory of how an act of generosity or thoughtfulness can change the tone of an entire interaction. Giving changes things. Let’s remember to give generously.

Resting in Feminine Energy

By: Gabriela Yareliz

I felt an extra layer of familiar exhaustion, this past week. I realized that a big part of that was not just workload, but it was more the type of work and type of energy it demands. The work I do requires a very masculine energy. I love and get amped by it, but it can also be draining. I am still trying to figure out how to put my own more feminine spin on it. (It’s hard when you are trying to survive in between the old boy’s club and attorneys who have no respect for rule of law). I spent the week fighting with moronic people and making sure nothing fell through the cracks due to some people’s ineptitude or laziness. I realized today that something that was missing from my week was a good dose of feminine energy. For women, there is something restoring about femininity. I would even dare argue that men reap something good out of it too when it comforts them perhaps in the form of a well cooked meal or a cozy home. It’s a form of relaxation and rest. Maybe it feels that way because it was what we women were created to be. It’s a sort of home base. I find that when we operate out of masculine energy, we are in fight mode.

I think the power of femininity is why I am drawn to people like Lydia Millen, Anna Bey (my etiquette instructor), and Fiona Ferris. Being feminine doesn’t mean being impractical. We can be feminine while doing housework and cooking– it’s about the energy with which we approach our tasks. So, if you are like me, often going like an Energizer bunny with no stop button, then this post is a short and quick reminder of a way in which you can find rest.

Some of the ways in which I feel more restored and feminine are through:

Unhurried household tasks and errands.

Listen, not all of us have housekeepers or get everything delivered, but something I have found that makes the day-to-day needs more fun is planning out an amount of time where I don’t have to be hurried. A bit of a wander through a grocery store might be just what the soul needs. Sometimes, part of the wander will mean picking up something that you don’t normally buy. Reminds me of scene in The Holiday, when Amanda arrives in the UK, and she dumps a bunch of random stuff in her cart and the cashier is like, “Someone’s having a party tonight!” Meanwhile, everything is just for her. Ha. Listen, that’s not the way to shop every time, but once a quarter won’t kill you.

Reading.

I’ve seen some people confess on IG that they aren’t big readers. I don’t quite understand that. So if you aren’t, maybe this one isn’t for you, but I think that there is something for everyone in the world of books. If I can spend a morning in bed reading with the sun shining on me, that is bliss. It’s the best way to start my day. Reading, to me, equals a slow morning.

A soothing sound.

This might be jazz or bassanova or a relaxing podcast, like one of my favorites, Calm Christmas, by Beth Kempton. On Calm Christmas, you get to hear poetry, soft music and a soothing voice. It calms the nervous system. This might sound odd, but I became less and less of a music person as I grew up. As I continued to learn about how heavily music influences how we feel, I just sort of stayed away from it, so I am much more of a podcast person. You won’t catch me listening to Adele on repeat.

Self-care.

Whether it’s moisturizing (which I need to do better at), washing your hair in a timely way (I’ll admit I use dry shampoo on beanie days), or maybe it’s a face mask (the skincare type, not the ones that COVID-19 brought upon us), there are different things that make us feel more feminine and more cared for– less abandoned. Encouraging you to do one of those tonight. Wear some perfume. Paint your nails. Try a new eyeliner.

Eliminate.

Elimination feels good, whether it’s crossing something off a to do list, throwing out or donating something that doesn’t serve a purpose for you anymore, or let’s face it, using the restroom– elimination means we let go of something, and we can create more space for what matters or what is next. I saw on Beth Kempton’s alternative advent calendar that today’s challenge is to cut something out of your schedule. Do it. I already did. Feels liberating.

Reminder.

Remember, if you find yourself drained, it may not just be the fact that you are tired (though admittedly, certain seasons can require more from us). It could be that you need to recalibrate your feminine energy and make sure you are taking the time to rest in who you really are. Make some appointments with yourself, this week.

Feel like a woman.

The Values that Stand the Test of Time

By: Gabriela Yareliz

I keep thinking about how much values matter. When children are tiny, parents do their best to try to instill manners and certain values in their children. Every family reflects a values system, whether it realizes it or not. Some are unbiblical values that are learned, such as: “Lying and cheating aren’t a bad thing; you do what is best for you.” Some reflect more selfless values. I think the most important values that can be instilled in a generation have to do with how it relates to God, which in turn affects how we treat one another.

Teaching a child about the love of God and the inherent value each person is born with because he/she is created by a loving Creator truly changes things.

I have been thinking a lot about impact and time. Values impact far past the point at which we are gone.

Here is an example that has come to mind lately, given our current political climate in the U.S.: The United States was formed by a ragtag bunch that believed in freedom from tyranny (to the point of risking their lives), inalienable rights, and the fact that all men are created equal. They didn’t believe in self-victimization, in pointing fingers or defeat, but in man’s ability to shape his own destiny. These men were flawed, and it’s no secret many failed to live up to some of their held values, but they did their best within the ethics of that past era. Their flaws don’t make them evil, just as the flaws of the people we see in Scripture didn’t make them evil as they kept learning along their journey with God.

These founding fathers were courageous enough (and smart enough) to devise systems, draft founding documents and create rules to safeguard what they valued and what they wanted this country to stand for, regardless of their personal imperfections.

These days, it’s the values of these men that are safeguarding our liberties as our politics seek to control that which it cannot. If we relied on the values (or lack thereof) of our present day, we’d be in so much trouble, to put it lightly. Look around you. We have a society that wants to control all and remove people from the consequences of their own actions. We have a desire, these days, for crummy policies that have been proven to fail in other countries. (Insanity is doing the same thing and expecting a different result). We have a desire to appear virtuous without the character to back up the appearance.

We are hanging by a thread.

I am grateful every day for the fact that the values of people who lived years ago have a long-reaching and lasting impact. The values of our founding fathers are acting as a faith net that catches us as we are free falling into mandates, discrimination of the disabled, the stripping of livelihoods from those following conscience, Supreme Court justices who want to decide cases, not on the merits, but to keep status quo out of pride and to not admit we were wrong in the past to “preserve the legitimacy of the court” (you have lost it, Hon. Sotomayor).

These founding values of the past were correct. Whether the execution of them was perfect is a separate issue— that doesn’t delegitimize the values. One only has to look at the deep hypocrisy of today’s leadership to understand that… people can profess something and live very differently from the profession. It’s called the sinful human condition. The imperfect lives of the people in Scripture don’t invalidate the life-changing principles contained and memorialized there. Instead, there are lessons there for all of us on our walks and journeys. The choice remains with us, always.

The fact that these values from past generations are holding us now reminds me of how important our values are today. How we behave, the choices we make, whether we can put away our pride and choose the right thing (even if it contradicts our past), caring for and respecting others enough to give them freedom, caring for the least of these— these values will shape generations after us. This is why we are in such a precarious place. Who we are today will be felt long after we are gone. I hope we can be a generation who helps strengthen the faith net that has kept this country from reflecting the fascism that is so evident around the globe right now. I hope we can cling to what is right despite our imperfections. If we choose wrong, the repercussions will be felt, not only by us, but by those who will come after us.

Eyes On You

By: Gabriela Yareliz

Welcome to another day. A new variant. A new state of emergency. More fear being vomited onto us. (If only we reacted to it as the vomit that it is). That’s what seems to be heaped on us, like a bad record on repeat. It’s the day after the worst day of the stock market in 2021. But, I am not here to talk about that, specifically. You get plenty of that noise everywhere. Instead, I am here to try to articulate something that filled me with hope, this morning.

I want to talk to you about James chapter 5. Lizzie and I are finishing up a Bible study called Make Your Home a Haven. It has nothing to do with making your home a haven (ha), but each time we open the Word, we walk away blessed regardless of the off-theme Scriptures featured.

Some of the headings in James 5 include, “Patience in Suffering” and “The Prayer of Faith.” These are topics that feel close to us in these weird uncertain times. I guess all times are uncertain, even when we don’t realize it. But we really feel it, now.

I know there are families struggling. Countries struggling. People on fixed incomes not sure how to afford that next grocery haul. People of valor who have been dismissed from long-held jobs, pensions lost. People who are sick and alone. People who live in countries where people are being taken off to quarantine camps or being locked down by national armies and police. I see you. We see you. Overall, I think many are grappling with a sense of deep loss and grief. That said, I see so many miracles happening around me. I almost said small miracles– but in my opinion, there is no such thing as a small miracle. All miracles are holiness exploding in our midst. They shake us to our very core. Their light temporarily leaves us blinded to all other distractions. They are never forgotten.

The tail end of verse 16 states, “The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working.” No matter how hopeless your situation feels, don’t stop praying. When you don’t know what to do with something, just take it to Jesus and offer it with open hands. He doesn’t ask you to solve everything that comes your way or to light up every dark corner. He reminds us that is His job. Our job is to believe He can.

It’s comforting to hear this. We know that God hears us, and it’s incredible to remember what a tool prayer is. I read somewhere that if you say that all you can do for someone is pray for them, then you have the wrong idea of what prayer is and what it is capable of changing. Prayer is not the last line of defense, but the first. Prayer summons real divine power. Real divine power disrupts. The real divine power comes from a God who is and will remain undefeated.

In challenging times, where oftentimes we pray persistently, it’s easy to focus on our anguish, our fear of the unknown, our fear of mere mortals or simply the unfavorable circumstances staring back at us, unblinking. We focus on all the useless things, instead of focusing on an all-powerful God. Today, Jenifer Daley said, “Jesus is still the light of the world. Bless His name for He is good.” We forget. We so easily forget. The anxiety that wraps our souls to suffocation reminds us of all we forget too often. Our fears push our heads underwater in a place where we can’t swim, but prayer is the hand outstretched. God never rejects the call for help. His hand is the one that lifts us to life. To new heights. To all we hoped was possible but could not achieve on our own.

The King of the universe loves us. He seeks us out. He fights for us. He saves us. Let me rephrase this– The King of the universe loves you. He seeks you out. He fights for you. He saves you.

The verses that caught my eye were:

“Elijah was a man with a nature like ours, and he prayed fervently that it might not rain, and for three years and six months it did not rain on the earth. Then he prayed again, and heaven gave rain, and the earth bore its fruit.”
James 5:17-18

Elijah has an interesting story. He plugs into the story of Israel at a time when they have an evil king and queen, and the people are worshipping idols. The kingdom is cloaked in darkness, though they didn’t feel it or know it. If you know anything about Elijah’s story, it’s that there is a God-ordained drought when Elijah is prophet because God is displeased by Israel’s turning its back on Him. In fact, James points to how the drought came about– the fact that Elijah prayed fervently that it might not rain, not for three hours or three days, but for three years God answered this prayer. James stresses that Elijah was a man with a “nature like ours.” We see his flaws in his story like any other person in Scripture, apart from Jesus who had none. Elijah has his own moments of isolation, depression and he flees for his life out of fear after tremendous victory. Queen Jezebel wanted his head. (And she was a crazy one).

The story of Elijah would be incomplete if we don’t remember when he went to the mount to show the people who the true God is; he prays for fire to come down from heaven and consume a sopping wet sacrifice. Then, he prays for rain.

Elijah was flawed and a loner. He wasn’t in the “in crowd,” but God chose him. Elijah was a man like the rest of us, and when he prayed, God honored his faith. Sometimes, we wonder where our prayers go or we pray so often we aren’t sure if we should keep asking. At times, we fail to realize that some of our prayers don’t just affect ourselves, but they send a message to and impact the community at large. James gives us a picture of a God who honors the faith of imperfect people who pray and strive to honor Him with their lives.

God answers prayers through supernatural interventions. It’s His M.O. I would dare you to think about Elijah’s story even past this point. Elijah was faithful. Despite his imperfections, exhaustion, his deep sadness, he never bows down to evil. He is a friend of God. Scripture tell us Elijah was taken to heaven without seeing death (ironic, given that death by the hand of psycho Queen Jezebel was what he most feared). Talk about leaving this dump.

Why do I tell you all of this? Yeah, after reading those verses in James 5, my mind sort of wandered down the timeline of Elijah’s story. Elijah lived in some crazy times with a dark and for lack of a more appropriate word, evil leadership. He lived in a time where to stand for truth meant standing alone. The country was off worshipping created things rather than God. As we have discussed, he was as flawed as they come, but the man had some serious cojones. As I was looking at his life and his daring way of approaching God, I was reminded of the song from MOSAIC MSC that says, “Eyes on you; you have all my attention. Eyes on you; you hold all my affection. Always you. Forever, I will keep my eyes on you.”

This reminds me of Jehoshaphat’s prayer in 2 Chronicles 20:12, where he prays and says, “We are powerless against this great horde that is coming against us. We do not know what to do but our eyes are on you.”

Whether we feel like we are sinking in the sea like Simon Peter, or whether we are walking through the sea like Moses. Whether we see a sea on one side and Pharaoh’s army on the other side; or whether we know an army is coming and we don’t know where to look. Whether we sit in brokenness like Elijah in hiding or whether we are at the mount like Elijah kneeling before a consumed sacrifice– we keep our eyes fixed on Him. If there is an answer to any of life’s troubles, if there is a way to keep faith steady when the world around us is being consumed by a tornado of insanity, if there is a way to know He is listening and reaching out to grab us– it’s by keeping a narrow, undistracted gaze fixed on Him.

If you haven’t felt it yet, you will someday. Things will feel like they are disintegrating around you. But remember this: when you feel it, fix your gaze, and tell Him, “Eyes on you. Always you. Forever, I will keep my eyes on you.”

May your prayer of faith make you rise like a phoenix. May you see His holiness and love in your life. May His light illuminate every darkness. Joy comes in the morning. Gaze steady.

A Moment in the Mirror

By: Gabriela Yareliz

No two Thanksgivings were the same for me, growing up. Maybe it was all the moving around. I don’t know. We had some great ones in Florida, maybe three years in a row we had Thanksgiving at some church friends’ house. They would invite more or less the same group. We ate well, had fun outside playing all kinds of games, including Red Rover. It was nice. There is something to be said about a get-together you can count on. That said, there are two Thanksgivings that stand out to me. They were out-of-the-ordinary but magical.

The first was a cold and frosty November in Michigan. My great grandmother had just passed. My great aunt used to take care of her, and I remember my grandmother flew in from Puerto Rico for her mother’s last days in early November. She stuck around, and I just remember that old Michigan house was steamy. The kitchen and dining room were busy– everyone making their best dish. I remember the snow falling, and me glancing out the window through the condensation and water dripping on the interior of the windows. That year, I learned what a pumpkin roll was. My grandmother would make these incredible rolls (you can make them in different flavors), and it had a cream inside of the roll that wasn’t too sweet. It was perfection. My favorite rice with vienna sausages was in the gray aluminum pot, and turkey galore (this was before I was plant-based). My favorite dish, at this tender age of eight, was stuffing and turkey. My twin brothers were babies. I would keep a watchful eye on them and try to help in the dining room. I felt very grown up that winter. When my mom was helping the family coordinate all the funeral details, I had done my best to be a good babysitter to my twin brothers who were little dweebs. My dad was away training for the Air Force. It was a hard season. I had never seen my mother that distraught. My great grandmother raised her, so she essentially lost her mother. And while there was a heaviness in the air that winter after such a big loss of the matriarch of the family, there was also a unity that was palpable. It was a Puerto Rican Thanksgiving in snowy Michigan that I will never forget.

The second unforgettable Thanksgiving was one where we were already in Florida (after my parents separated). We traveled to Charleston, SC, one of my former hometowns, to visit our Charleston pastor and his family, who were dear family friends. When you move around as much as I do, one often doesn’t get the opportunity to go back to an old familiar home. Going back to Charleston and hanging out with old friends after a wild and demoralizing year prior, it was what the soul needed. I remember we got junk food and rented Mean Girls and Elf (I fell asleep when Elf was on at like midnight– but I do remember Mean Girls). (Don’t worry, I finally watched Elf for the first time (wide awake) at the age of 28– ha!) We played games, saw lights, sang at the church, slept on the floor in front of the TV like a giant sleepover… it was memorable. I have this distinct memory of getting ready for church. The Jessica Simpson Christmas album was playing in the background. I was stuffing my little baguette purse with all the unnecessary necessaries. I felt grown up. A different kind of grown up. I had just survived my hardest year. I looked at myself in the mirror with my purse on my shoulder and beamed at myself. I was learning to carry myself differently. It was a spontaneous and incredible weekend with friends who were family in a time when we really needed it.

I’ve come to discover that some of our best holidays are the ones where things are unplanned, and it’s simply about being united with those who make you feel supported and blessed. Sometimes, it’s family, and sometimes, it’s friends. No matter how or with whom you are celebrating, I hope you have your own moment in the mirror. Be proud of all you have come through and all you have bounced back from. It’s those intense years of resilience that give us the most for which to be grateful. Happy Thanksgiving, friends. Sending you love and joy. xx

The Soul’s Interpreter

“The soul, fortunately, has an interpreter – often an unconscious but still a faithful interpreter – in the eye.”
Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

By: Gabriela Yareliz

For some, our identities are complex and odd things that have layers upon layers. Some layers are closer to the heart. Some stick together. Others hide. Some layers are loud, while others are dormant. Not everyone has many layers. I’ve met people who are quite one or two-dimensional. And there is nothing wrong with that. Perhaps, it is a gift. They are polished and branded. They are neatly wrapped– the kind of box that has ribbon. But to those of us who have been thrust into the unfamiliar repeatedly and often, we find ourselves with worlds inside. We are the messier, unconventional boxes. The ones that may look plain on the outside, but once opened, create more questions than answers. Enigmas, a respected mentor of mine, Bob Lang, would say. That word always reminds me of him.

I watched Jane Eyre, tonight. It has been years since I came back to this story. I can’t even begin to describe what the text means to me. It’s one of those manuscripts that is a wise friend. The gorgeous film took me back to the British countryside– a world I so often visited and revisited as a child and young person, in books. These books were like drops of water than would expand into every corner of my being, the stories and lessons filling me like an ocean. Revisiting this particular story filled me to the brim with an emotion I hadn’t forgotten but had been absent from me. As the film credits rolled, my sight was blurred by tears. I was so moved. I am not sure why, but I know I felt it, and it mattered. Sometimes, that’s all we can really articulate. We live our lives so structured, guarded and public that we forget to allow ourselves to wander.

There are things that can evoke such emotion in us. They remind us of the things we once knew, the people we were and are, the people we have lost who haunt us ever so slightly, and the love held deeply there, in the breast pocket of the soul.

Once in a while, some kind of alchemy brings us a gift that the soul yearns for. It draws our mind at the time it is needed most. We sometimes are afraid the gift is too messy or unconventional to accept it. However, if we decide to accept it, it can revive a little acreage of heart and turn it green. Like a struck match, it illuminates dark corners and sparks the eye and reminds us that we are home.

Switching Off

By: Gabriela Yareliz

My mind is going (taka-taka-taka-taka). Switch is on.

I saw something beautiful, written by @jessicaalixhesser, today. I wanted to share it with you:

“Don’t let them steal your vision or your life, you hear me? Life is not what they keep telling you it is. Mostly, life will be friendly to you if you are friendly toward it. But you better have faith and courage plenty. Whatever ‘it’ is to you, do it. Do it now.”

I have been reading Beth Kempton’s Calm Christmas, and the following passage caught my attention. It has been a reminder to be more intentional with my upcoming December:

“If we never switch off our devices, it’s hard to switch off our minds for long enough to inhabit here and now, or to fall into a deep, restful sleep. The choices we make in the first couple of weeks of December can affect the way we experience the whole season, and how we emerge into the New Year, so let’s choose well.”

Both quotes are about switching something off. Switching off the noise and others, and switching off our devices to find mental rest. Both switches lead us to live more authentically. Yesterday and today, a phrase that keeps coming up is that ‘courage is contagious’. It takes courage to flip the switch.

Switch off.

Page Eleven, Letter D

Photo by Visual Stories || Micheile on Unsplash

By: Gabriela Yareliz

I clicked on one of the thousands of marketing emails I receive in my old law school email that I still very much use. It was Magnolia’s Holiday Collection. There was something about the layout that reminded me of the old school catalogs. Maybe, also the holiday theme. I got a weird emotion that I can only guess is nostalgia. As I looked through the images, I was put in the holiday spirit, and my mind imagined these delightful trinkets and furniture items in an imaginary future home that right now only exists in my mind.

Growing up as a 90s kid– I can’t really emphasize the power catalogs had in my childhood. It may sound materialistic, but I was obsessed with them. I spent hours reading through them, cutting out the pictures and making collages– it wasn’t really about the stuff but about my imagination and the stories being told through them— the backgrounds, the expressions. I waited for them with anticipation as if they were feature magazines. My love for catalogs was steadfast and unwavering. Among the most memorable were: the American Girl Doll catalog, American Girl Clothing (they had an amazing clothing line for girls for the longest, and it is now gone. These were amazing); dELiA*S catalog (mohair fuzzy sweaters? Yes!); Victoria’s Secret catalog (remember when they sold sexy office suits and swimwear?); Free People and Anthropologie (these were exotic and followed a theme– they often had prose sprinkled throughout); Pottery Barn Kids; West Elm; and then, the mini department store mailings that came twice a week from places like JCPenney.

Catalogs offered us some aspirational images– it was like a window into how others lived and how you could live. We gathered style ideas to imitate, decor inspo and that’s probably how we learned to pose.

Catalogs are still a thing for some places like Venus, Talbots and Chico’s. When I flip through them, I smile. I remember the earmarking and circling of the letter of the item you liked. Sweater on page eleven, letter ‘D’. With the dominance of the online world, I am not sure if catalogs will always remain among us. We certainly don’t place orders by mail or phone. Now, just as Magnolia proves, we have online galleries we can scan and scroll through. Every site has its own gift guide. That said, while catalogs may not always be with us, the feeling they left us with will always remain. I often walked away inspired; my head full of stories and my heart ready to strike out on its own creative spree. Scissors on the floor, after cutting one up. All out of tape.

The Beaver Moon

By: Gabriela Yareliz

I unbox my wreath and immediately hang it over the peephole box. It’s perfect. I can hear a distant apartment’s faucet, and then, it’s shut off. Silence.

My red light glows before I twist it off, as well. My eyes adjust to the navy blue darkness. It’s bright. The moon acts as our own stadium light, lighting the path to bed.

I get a text from someone who just thought of me. I hear the distant bing. I start crossing the dark space to respond. The person texts a ‘goodbye’ before I can even reply. Stillness. I am alone, I think, but then I am reminded of the moon, her silver smile detectable on my shoulder.

I do my little stretches and shifts in bed and pull the fuzzy covers over me. I organize my many blankets savoring every minute of silence. Through my window, I see an airplane, the fire escape from above and the glow of distant windows. The room has a little chill to it. I am convinced the chill adds to the silence.

When we pause in the silence, we realize how active and loud the silence can really be. The paradoxes of the night include loud silence and a bright darkness.

It’s not just me who knows this, but also, my friend the moon.

Nourishment for Hard Times

By: Gabriela Yareliz

Where We Are

What does it look like to confront moments of uncertainty? We all do it, day after day. I was listening to a doctor on a podcast who is temporarily staying in Harlem, and she was talking about how there is a depressive cloud over NYC. The subways are silent. You can hear a pin drop. (Unless it’s someone getting attacked due to high crime).

I think we are all sort of over the current state of the world. Many are over the increasing gas and food prices (and we haven’t even seen heating bills, yet). Over the city and its blatant discrimination and senseless restrictions. Over the incompetence in leadership roles. Over the pain and suffering so many have endured. Over the politicization of everything.

I was watching Christine Anderson the other day, (she is a German politician and member of the European Parliament). She has been outspoken regarding the recent human rights violations and political state in Europe. The person she was speaking with praised her for her courage and work, and anyone just listening would of thought she rebuffed it or dismissed it or was rude. But when I looked into her face on the screen, I saw someone who was exhausted. She was honored in her own quiet way, but she was still in fight mode.

My deepest admiration goes out to everyone who is fighting this on frontlines. From first responders, teachers, real journalists, attorneys to politicians trying to hold the line for common sense, human rights and decency.

People are exhausted. We are all drained and suspended in a cloud of uncertainty– waiting our own respective sentencing in life.

I don’t contribute anything close to the people I have discussed. Not at all. I am just a community lawyer, learning every day. But I am one of the people looking to the future and really wondering what is next. What will this turn into? What will this look like? Will the world look back in shame, or is it so far gone that it won’t even be able to do that?

We are all sort of operating in a weird survival mode. Life is looking more and more like those Spanish movies that end and there really was no conclusion. The screen just goes black and you raise your eyebrows like, I sat here this whole time for this?

Our eyes turn to the political arena here in the US and also in places like France and Italy, where people are choosing between freedom and tyranny that is no longer afraid to hide. Poland is preparing for military mobilization as I write this, and yet no one in shameful leadership seems to care. I write my stream of consciousness here, wondering what the world will look like months from now. Will we look back and sigh with relief having dodged the canon ball? Or will life look so wildly different, we won’t even recognize it?

I’m sitting here hoping we all don’t end up like Winston Smith.

How We Can Nourish Ourselves

Not my style to just end with despair. After all, Scripture is constantly coaxing us to ‘fear not’ and to look ahead to the future promised by God. One where things are judged and made right. A future where God’s essence of love, justice and righteousness prevail.

So, as we are all pressing forward in our own circles and with our own circumstances, what can we do to “nourish” ourselves, as my favorite fitness YouTuber asks? I like that word. It makes me think of laying my head on a spongy folded soft throw. Comfort. Safety. Rest.

Curating

A lot of nourishing has to do with setting boundaries. I was watching a video by Lydia Millen about 9 Ways to Change Your Life Today. She discussed such great topics like living unapologetically (don’t misinterpret this one; has nothing to do with hurting others or being unkind), curating your inner circle, cutting out drama and really carefully curating what you consume. The consuming part got me. We are flooded by information. So cliché, I know. We know this, and yet we aren’t careful with who and what we let into our space. She is right that we get one life. ONE LIFE. And we let so much clutter it or make it heavy. I talked about this with my dad, the other day. Millen talked about how she doesn’t watch horror or action movies. Same. I don’t like watching people suffer. If you can help it, don’t consume the unnecessary and negative. Be informed, but don’t let anyone tell you what to think. Important. Just strive to honor God.

I know people who are absorbed in the news cycle or complaining 24/7, and they have a palpable heavy energy that brings the whole vibe down. We fill up with what we consume. If we don’t like how we feel or we are overwhelmed or deeply unhappy, it may be time to shut off some stuff (or people) and recalibrate.

On the flip side of this, not only are there things we should stop consuming, but there are things we should start consuming. If we aren’t seeking inspiration and God’s promises every day– we are going to be at a huge loss. I know for a fact that there are times when it has been God’s promises and just that, which have sustained me. We have a God who passionately loves and cares for us. Open Scripture, and pray to God that He can speak to your heart through what you read. Scripture, whether we realize it or not, has transforming power. It is the definition of truth.

Movement

I can’t stress enough how that silent moment to yourself in movement changes everything. I realize I think the world is ending on days when I don’t move. Cooler weather makes us want to hibernate, but this is exactly why it’s important to move, even if it means moving slowly and intentionally.

I saw a poll on Twitter the other day where people were talking about how they don’t work out because they don’t like exercise. I didn’t either when I was into cardio and frantic paced movement. Now, it’s one of my favorite things to do. I love moving, and I love moving slowly.

Read Cozy

There are books that you read that are cozy. I think it starts with the author. There are authors who write in a poetic way that makes us feel warm and seen. Reading just anything won’t do. It’s not about how much you read but the quality of it. If you read trash– well, that doesn’t help anyone.

I think a lot of classics are cozy reads (see Jane Austen, Virginia Woolf, Charles Dickens), and here are some of the more recent authors I consider cozy read authors: Katherine May (Wintering), Mary Oliver (Devotions), Tish Harrison Warren (Prayer in the Night), River Jordan (Praying for Strangers), Richard Paul Evans, Marisa De Los Santos (Belong to Me), Julia Cameron, Beth Kempton and Phyllis Reynolds Naylor.

Prepare Your Home for the Coolest Guest

You know the frenzy, when someone is coming over. We clean and try to make sure our best towels are ready and blankets and pillows are fluffed. We make things a bit more aesthetically pleasing and put other things away. We take out our best plates– you know what I am saying. I was reading the letter to the editor in Better Homes and Gardens, if I remember correctly, and he was discussing how he went to a friend’s house, and she took out her finest china for a regular meal. She said she didn’t believe in waiting for what others consider a “special occasion,” as she considered the present moment one.

What if we honored ourselves in the same way we often strive to honor others? And let me tell you, after hosting some perfectly insane people, I mean this. I am not saying you treat a guest poorly, but why do we treat strangers who probably end up gossiping about us when they leave better than we treat ourselves?

So prep the house. Bust out your cute baskets, and bring out the best plates and towels. Use them. Make your home a sanctuary. Your coolest guest is you.

Reflect

Spend some time thinking about what makes you feel nourished. It may be having certain types of meals at your fingertips or involve other senses. It doesn’t have to cost money. In fact, mine don’t (if you get the books from a library or if you read them free on Kindle. Another favorite hack is getting them for a few dollars from used bookstores). Curate your life, and be picky. (Have high standards because your soul has infinite value. God said so). I know I need to do better. My suggestions are more about using what you have, now. That’s part of gratitude.

Stuff is tight, right now. I never want this to be a space that is tone deaf or blind to our realities. But no matter what is happening, we don’t get this time back. Let’s make it all it can be. Nourish your soul because you are most certainly worth it. Nourish your soul because the fight is hard. Fight hard. Rest hard. Sending you love. xx