Relationships

The New Site

| Marie Griffith

Ready or not, here it is. The new website launched. It didn’t happen quite the way I wanted it to happen, but it happened nevertheless.

I worked on the new website in all my spare time and, what feels like, time I didn’t have. My lunch hour, the minutes before a meeting, the time in the waiting room of the doctor’s office, and my free evenings were filled with website work. A lot is involved in launching a new site, and I wanted it to be perfect. I tweaked pages, changed words, added widgets and photos, and updated posts.

If you follow this site and like what you see, please visit my new site and follow. All of you have meant a lot to my journey and I’d like for us to continue to connect.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the encouragement, the conversations, your blog posts, and just being some of the neatest people on the planet!

My new site is still called Live Like It Matters. Click here to see it and let me know you found me.

 

 

 

What’s This All About?

| Marie Griffith

The new website is coming along and we’re almost there. In the meantime, I’ll share the reason I’m doing this in the first place.

Fifteen years ago I was a young mother at the end of another exhausting day, and I wondered, is this it?

I graduated college, worked years at a great company, and quit a promising career to be home with my children to wipe counters, noses and bottoms all day?

Today, I’m sitting in my office with piles of paper scattered across my desk, emails to answer, phone calls to make, and numbers to crunch. And I wonder, is this it?

I know I’m not the only one. You feel the same way. The restlessness, the divine discontent, a desire within your heart to make a difference. We all want to know our lives count.

I was in my 20s when I read John Maxwell’s book “Developing the Leader Within You”. The most important words of the entire book were these:

Sociologists tell us that even the most introverted person will influence 10,000 people in his or her lifetime.

I was astounded. To think that I would impact 10,000 or more people in my lifetime was amazing and humbling.

The 10,000 statistic is a pre-social media number. It’s not a stretch to guess that the most introverted person will impact an exponentially greater number of people in his or her lifetime. Fifty thousand, maybe even 100,000 with Facebook, Twitter, blogging, and all the other ways of connecting with others.

The statistic might have changed but the main point of John Maxwell’s book is a timeless truth: at its most basic, leadership is influence.

In other words, you matter. I matter. And what we do matters. 

That’s why I’m passionate about Live Like it Matters.

A couple of years ago, I issued Live Like It Matters challenges on my blog to remind myself and others of the significance of our day-to-day interactions. The challenges connect our desire to make a difference with our everyday lives. The challenges include:

  • say hello to a stranger
  • write a note to a coworker.
  • give a 40% tip the next time you eat at a restaurant
  • volunteer at a local charity for a day/a week/regularly

The challenges prompt us to look for opportunities to live like it matters right where we are.

Because some of the thousands we’ll reach are the people we meet day in and day out. One of yours may be the tired unnamed waitress that served you lunch on Sunday, a young man in your daughter’s class struggling with his identity, the homeless couple who sit on the curb near the mall you drive past each day, or the flustered UPS guy hauling heavy boxes inside your office building each morning.

We don’t have to be entertainers, politicians, professional athletes or authors to touch thousands. We don’t need Twitter followers, websites, or Facebook pages. It’s those of us in our workplaces, at the schools, and in lines at the grocery store checkouts who make the difference. We can live like it matters at the bank, the park, or the gym.

We live like it matters when we change diapers, wipe snotty noses, and wash dishes. Take heart, tired young parent, take heart. Home is the best place to live like it matters.

When we live like it matters our routines are rich with opportunity, the mundane is meaningful, and our lives turn from ordinary to extraordinary.

My writing, my blog, my website….all of it is about learning to live like it matters and encouraging us in it.

I’ll issue challenges occasionally and continue the regular features, like Monday School and Beauty Break.

I’ll still write just to write, too. I hope it will give you hope, make you ponder a thought you never have before, unlock a memory, see someone in a new way, or make you feel less alone.

Anne Lamott puts it this way, “a writer always tries, I think, to be part of the solution, to understand a little about life and to pass it on”.

This is me passing it on.

When the new website launches, this website will eventually redirect to the new site, but I’m not sure if new posts will show up in the WP reader. I’m still learning about this.

If you want to be sure to catch the new site, new challenges and all my new stuff please leave a comment and tell me you want to subscribe to the new site and I’ll add you to my email followers. 

Photo by Mr Cup / Fabien Barral on Unsplash

I’m Finally Doing It

| Marie Griffith

I’ve thought about it for a couple of years and talked out loud about it almost as long. I took small steps toward it in January, but the change felt unnecessary and a little scary. After the Speak Up conference in June, I resolved to make it happen, even though the change still seemed daunting. Actually, a little scary turned into a lot scary but I pressed through the doubt and fear and am thrilled about the change now.

I’m finally doing it.

I’m making the leap to a whole new website designed by my friend and graphic designer, Monica Yother. She and I worked together years ago and it was a joy reconnecting, reminiscing, and collaborating on this project. The process was beautiful.

The new website is a labor of love on my part. Take my ideas and passion, add her creativity and eye for design, mix in her encouragement and my courageous moments, hundreds of back-and-forth emails, some meetings, hours and hours of work, lots of questions and edits and you get a beautifully designed website that feels exactly how I want it to feel.

The new site will be up next week. I can hardly wait for you to see it.

If you subscribe by email to this website, you’ll receive new posts from the new site in your email. No action is needed. Just eagerly await the new site.

If you’d like to receive email notifications of posts from my new site, please subscribe by email to this site. Enter your email address where it says, “You’ll get new posts through email” on the home page.

I’m excited about this change. I think you will be too.

 

 

Because We Can

| Marie Griffith

I’m skipping Monday School today so I can share what my friends and I did over the weekend.

We ran the Nashville Sprint Spartan Race on Saturday and the Nashville Super on Sunday. Those are my fifth and sixth Spartan races but the first time I’ve done Spartan races two days in a row.

The heat and humidity took it out of us early on Saturday. By the end of the four miler all of us were wiped out, but we finished and felt good about our race.

It was cooler with a light on-and-off rain Sunday. The heat wasn’t an issue but the soreness and blisters from the day before made some of the obstacles even harder. We finished the eight miles faster than anticipated.

My niece and her friend ran with us on Saturday. According to them, this won’t be their last. They enjoyed the intense challenge of it all. My niece said the best part of the race was realizing she could do more than she thought possible.

The same thing happened to me. When I finished my first Spartan Race I was in awe of what I’d accomplished. I was thankful for the camaraderie on the course and the shared experience of training and racing with friends.

Training together, working toward a common goal, and cheering one another on for months prior to a race makes the race even better. Those shared experiences have a way of bringing you closer. When we see each other trudging up a steep hill in 90 degree heat carrying a bucket full of rocks or giving it our all at the atlas carry, we see and appreciate the grit in each other. When a teammate climbs the the rope or heaves the Hercules hoist to the top with sheer determination, the physical strength is evident but we see her inner strength too. It’s a beautiful thing.

I’m no elite athlete. Not even close. I’m only determined to use and take care of this wonderfully complex gift called my body, as much as I can, for as long as I can, however I can in pursuit of health. It’s the only body I’ll ever have. So I move it and it’s more fun with friends and goals.

This weekend we met a brain cancer beater, a two time heart attack survivor, several people fighting diabetes, and a 70 year old grandmother who told me “my body’s going to ache anyway, might as well ache doing this.” Each racer has a unique story and a different reason for being on the course. All of us feel the same sense of accomplishment when we cross the finish line.

Maybe you’ve never heard of Spartan Races, so you Google it and you decide it’s not for you. There are so many ways to move your body. Dancing lessons, walks in the park, Frisbee golf, hiking, skating, gardening, biking, mud runs. The number of ways to move is endless.

Find something that looks fun and try it. Even if it looks impossible at first. Try it. If you’ve been inactive for a while, take a walk at the park. Build up distance slowly, then try the Couch to 5K app. You’ll surprise yourself.

I did and I’m going to keep at it.

If you want more information about Spartan Races and how we’ve trained, let me know. I’d be glad to share our secrets and encourage you on your way to a Spartan Race or better health in general.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She Gave it All

| Marie Griffith

Yesterday, I read the story in Mark 12:41-44 about the poor widow giving all she had. Jesus sat near the offering boxes and noticed the crowd tossing in their contributions. Maybe some in the crowd gave their offerings thoughtlessly, just another item on their religious checklist. Maybe others thought a lot about what they gave and walked away with puffed up chests and noses in the air. The rich gave their large sums, and a poor widow gave her two pennies. Jesus let his disciples in on the truth they probably missed.

“The truth is that this poor widow gave more to the collection than all the others put together. All the others gave what they’ll never miss; she gave extravagantly what she couldn’t afford—she gave her all.”    Mark 12 (MSG)

The story reminded me of another widow who gave all she had. God could have sent Elijah to another home, another family…..with more to give. But he chose the widow in Zarephath with nothing but enough flour and oil to prepare one last meal for her and her son. Instead, she used all she had to make a small loaf of bread for Elijah.

“…For this is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: ‘The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the Lord sends rain on the land.’”  1 Kings 17:14

If you don’t know the rest of the story, I urge you to read it. It starts in 1 Kings verse 7 and ends in verse 24. I wonder if the the poor widow in Mark’s account knew the story of Elijah and the widow of Zarephath. Perhaps it inspired her to give all she had.

The Bible tells us what happened to the widow of Zarephath, but we don’t know about the widow in Mark. What happened to her after she placed her coins in the offering? Did Jesus speak with her? Did the disciples help her?

We only know what Jesus said of her: she gave it all.

Maybe both widows inspired part of Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians. In the letter, Paul shared the story of the Macedonian churches’ overflowing generosity with the hope of encouraging the same in the Corinthian church. Titus delivered the letter which included this counsel:

And here is my advice about what is best for you in this matter: Last year you were the first not only to give but also to have the desire to do so. Now finish the work, so that your eager willingness to do it may be matched by your completion of it, according to your means. For if the willingness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has, not according to what one does not have.    2 Corinthians 8:10-12

It’s our willingness that matters, not how much or how little. There’s no need to compare our gifts because mine will be different than yours.

It’s about the motives in our hearts.

Is is duty? Is it a check mark on our religious to do list? Are we showing off? Are we buying our way into the inner circle, or trying to buy God’s favor?

Or are we giving from the overflow of the grace we’ve received?

Grace can be a loaf of bread or two pennies. It can be donating a $1000 a week or a full day at the rescue mission. Grace can be giving up a career to raise your family or going back to school to get a good job for your family. It can be giving up a dream or going for it.

God knows your heart. Ask Him to show it to you.

And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.  2 Corinthians 9:8

 

 

 

 

Photo by Ullash Borah on Unsplash

 

 

 

Really Lord?

| Marie Griffith

I’m glad this exchange is recorded in Genesis for us.

9 “Where is your wife Sarah?” they asked him.

“There, in the tent,” he said.

10 Then one of them said, “I will surely return to you about this time next year, and Sarah your wife will have a son.”

Now Sarah was listening at the entrance to the tent, which was behind him. 11 Abraham and Sarah were already very old, and Sarah was past the age of childbearing. 12 So Sarah laughed to herself as she thought, “After I am worn out and my lord is old, will I now have this pleasure?”

13 Then the Lord said to Abraham, “Why did Sarah laugh and say, ‘Will I really have a child, now that I am old?’ 14 Is anything too hard for the Lord? I will return to you at the appointed time next year, and Sarah will have a son.”

           Genesis 18:9-14

The “they” who asked Abraham the whereabouts of his wife are the Lord and two angels. Abraham stood near his heavenly guests as they ate while Sarah listened to the conversation from the tent.

One of them reminded Abraham of the promise God made. The promise of a child….born to Abraham and Sarah. When Sarah overheard this, without knowing anyone could hear, she responded with a laugh and a bite of sarcasm.

I mean, Sarah had a point. She was 89 or so years old, way beyond the age to have babies. It was impossible.

Abraham laughed, too, when he first heard the promise (Genesis 17:17). But God didn’t respond to Abraham’s laughter the way He did to Sarah’s. I wonder why?

I think Sarah was scared to hope in the promise. Her barrenness made her bitter and she was resentful about the mess she made with Hagar (Genesis 16). I imagine when she overheard the promise of a child her heart fluttered. She remembered her longing and the uncountable prayers. Then she remembered the disappointment and pain. So she laughed it off.

Thankfully, God sees past all our pretense. He knows when we’re acting stronger than we are. He sees beneath the fake smiles and forced laughter, and He hears what’s beneath the sarcastic remarks.

God knew exactly what Sarah needed. The Lord asked Abraham why Sarah laughed then asked another question He knew Sarah would hear.

Is anything too hard for the Lord?

There have been lots of things I thought impossible. My marriage. This house. Our work. My heart.

I face impossible situations now. So impossible that I can’t see the possibilities any more.

But then I remember….

Marie, is anything too hard for the Lord?

 

Photo by Lionello DelPiccolo on Unsplash

Sandcastles

| Marie Griffith

My kids love the sand. When they were younger, they spent hours building sandcastles. They smoothed over the perfect spot for the castle, then gathered wet sand near the edge of the ocean and hauled it back to the construction site. They pressed the sand into molds, turned them over and patted carefully so the tower or wall of the castle came out perfectly formed. They worked diligently to create their sandcastles. Sometimes they finished their project before the tide came in and sometimes they built the castles in a place the tide couldn’t reach. But eventually and always, the sandcastles were destroyed. Either by the ocean or the beach walkers.

Jesus told a story about building in the sand. It’s found in Matthew 7:24-27.

“Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.”

In this short parable, Jesus compared two types of hearers and two types of builders. Here’s a simple way to look at what he said:

The hearers who do what Jesus says = wise builder

The hearers who don’t do what Jesus says = foolish builder

According to the story, both the wise and the foolish hear the same words and both builders work to build their houses. The only difference is the foundation.

Jesus mentioned two foundations – rock and sand.

Do the words of Jesus = rock foundation = house stands

Don’t do the words of Jesus = sandy foundation = house falls

Jesus closed out the Sermon on the Mount with this story, but offered no editorial comment. He let the crowd sit with the image of the collapsed house. The crowd was amazed at His teaching, but Jesus wanted more than that for them.

Jesus started the same story in Luke 6:46-49 with these words:

“Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord,’ and not do what I tell you?”

Doing what Jesus says makes all the difference. It’s the difference between heart change and lip service, integrity and duplicity, a tender heart and a calloused one. It’s the difference between choosing the hard work of forgiveness and holding a grudge. It means we walk the walk, not just talk the talk, and we reflect His glory instead of seeking our own.

I’m learning to be a wise builder and I’m thankful God won’t leave me to do it alone.

He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.   Psalm 40:2

 

All the chisels I’ve dulled carving idols of stone
That have crumbled like sand beneath the waves
I’ve recklessly built all my dreams in the sand
Just to watch them wash away
Through another day, another trial, another chance to reconcile
To One who sees past all I see
Reaching out my weary hand, I pray that You’d understand
You’re the only One Who’s faithful to me
All the pennies I’ve wasted in my wishing well
I have thrown like stones to the sea
I have cast my lots, dropped my guard, searched aimlessly
For a faith to be faithful to me
Through another day, another trial, another chance to reconcile
To One Who sees past all I see
Reaching out my weary hand, I pray that You’d understand
You’re the only One Who’s faithful to me

Jennifer Knapp

 

Go here for more about Monday School.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Greatest of All

| Marie Griffith

Have you ever been embarrassed for someone? Like when American Idol aired some of the most awful auditions at the beginning of the season. Watching the ones who couldn’t sing, try to sing.

I have the same feeling when I read the story about the mother of James and John asking Jesus for her sons to be placed in seats of honor beside him, one on his left and the other on his right (Matthew 20:20:28). Jesus basically answered them with, You have no idea what you’re asking. The other disciples were furious when they found out, probably because of their own selfish desire to be at the top.

Did the disciples hear anything Jesus said ever? Were they blinded by their self-centered concerns?

There are more “greatest of all” discussions among the disciples. One of them happened shortly after Jesus washed their feet and shared a meal with them. The night before Jesus was arrested and would soon die for them, the disciples argued over who of them was the greatest (Luke 22:24-30).

It’s embarrassing and unsettling to read these stories. Unsettling because I’ve done the same thing. In a different way, but the same thing. I’ve never asked for a place of honor, but I’ve thought I was more honorable. I’ve thought I was more than. More faithful, more loving, more deserving. I’ve thought I was less than. Less faithful, less loving, less deserving.

The disciples were just doing out loud what we do in our heads all the time. We don’t argue with our friends about who’s the greatest, but we think we’re favored because of the books we read, the Bible studies we teach, or the classes we take. We feel entitled to the good life because of our great faith and good deeds. Or we compare and feel less than, and in our silent quest to feel important we strive and push our way to the top of a religious system that has nothing to do with following Jesus.

Thinking to ourselves or saying it out loud, comparisons are rarely a good thing. Unfortunately, it’s what we do and we must work really hard not to give in to feeling more than or less than others. If the disciples walked with Jesus and still had trouble with this one, we know it’s going to be a difficult one for us to grasp as well.

We define greatness in terms of human endeavor, accomplishments, and status, but Jesus turned that upside down. He said things like:

But it should not be that way among you. Whoever wants to become great among you must serve the rest of you like a servant.  Luke 22:26

The greatest person in the kingdom of heaven is the one who makes himself humble like this child.  Matthew 18:4

Whoever accepts this little child in my name accepts me. And whoever accepts me accepts the One who sent me, because whoever is least among you all is really the greatest.  Luke 9:48

You know that those who are regarded as rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them.  Not so with you.   Mark 10:42-43a

Not so with us.

Father, create in us clean hearts. Let us see when we’re comparing and striving, then cause us to turn to You, our All in All, the Greatest of All.

 

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Photo by Valario Davis on Unsplash

Looked After

| Marie Griffith

I lingered too long with my coffee yesterday morning. I planned an Independence Day run in my favorite park but didn’t start as early as intended. Orange cones already lined the street into the park to guide the throngs of firework watchers showing up to stake their claim to the best spots. I maneuvered my car through some of the cones to park in my usual space.

My run started better than expected and I felt good despite the heat. There were more people out and about at the park. Biking, walking, running, or preparing for their picnics. I ran through neighborhoods, around the school, then back to the park.

My run still felt okay but I was hot. I ran on the edge of a parking lot when I nodded to an older gentlemen driving a golf cart. He stopped the cart and motioned to me. I noticed he wore a cap with the park name on it. I wondered if he was an employee.

I walked to the cart and the man asked how long I’d been running. I answered him, then he asked how far I had to go. I told him, “three more miles to reach my goal.”

I must have looked overheated and thirsty. He handed me an ice cold water bottle from his cooler and told me to take it with me. Then he told me to take it slow. I opened the water bottle and drank fast. He looked concerned. I thanked him and turned to walk away. He said, “wait I’m not finished yet.”

He spread a small towel in his lap, filled the middle of it with handfuls of ice, and pulled the corners of the towel up around the ice. He put the “ice bag” behind his neck, on top of his head, under his chin, on his wrists and told me to do the same to cool off. I stood there with the bag behind my neck as he told me to be careful. He warned me of the heat again and I had a fleeting sense of familiarity.

He mentioned how he planned to celebrate later with his family and beamed when he talked about his grand children.

I thanked him again, reached to shake his hand, and asked his name. His eyes brightened, he shook my hand, told me his name, then asked mine.

Before he drove away, he said, “Marie, glad to know you.”

It wasn’t until this morning I discerned the familiarity.

The man on the golf cart reminded me of my father. Not his appearance, but the things he said and how he said them. His makeshift ice bag and demonstration of its most effective use. His going above and beyond in his care about such a small thing as me being too hot.

It was Dad who saw to our wounds when we were stung by yellow jackets or scraped our knees. He did the mean stuff. He dabbed our cuts with iodine or squeezed our splinters to the surface to pull them out with tweezers, and told us to stop whining about it.

As he aged, his care became more tender. More advice and prayers than tending wounds. Moving things or fixing broken ones. Letting us borrow what was his and always helping when he saw a need. Sometimes he helped before I knew I needed help.

Dad looked after us.

I finished my run. I took the man’s advice and slowed down, and it may be the reason I finished. I think it was another one of those times I needed help and didn’t know it.

 

Photo by Arleen wiese on Unsplash