Whelp...

So, this happened. Puppies. In May, a sweet little black dog showed up at the ranch and refused to leave. So naturally, as one does when a pretty little puppy shows up on her doorstep, we built her a doghouse and decided to add her to the family. A couple weeks into her new life we discovered Poochie was losing her waistline… and it wasn’t just “the covid-19." (haha) We fell in love with a pregnant dog! And so, 7 weeks later we welcomed 8 new puppies into our barn.

Sometimes things appear one way, then bam! They change. One minute you’re dog-free and proud, and the next you have 9 perky puppies rolling around in the grass and pooping faster than you can scoop it. It’s insanity. But if there’s one thing we’ve all learned from life in the time of coronavirus, things are not what we had expected. Not our plans, not our careers, not our health. What’s here today could be gone tomorrow, and anyway, who has any idea what tomorrow will look like?

It’s a lot.

These past months I feel like I went into hiding—all my speaking events were cancelled, I”m not working on a writing project, and just flying way under the radar. And while that’s something I truly love, I started to do two things: question my purpose and feel irritated by all the interruptions. For some reason, we humans love to have a roadmap and then fly straight on that thing ‘til we get to the goal. We like neat and tidy, predictable, we like accomplishment and accolades and “smooth travels.” And I think that until the worldwide pandemic hit, those of us who were experiencing bumps in the road of any sort felt like we were the odd ones out. Now, the whole stinking world is there, all together, confused.

So I know you’re with me, feeling like you need to recalibrate your purpose, how you spend the time God gave you (which, for the record, is the same 24 hours in a day as the rest of humanity). And with a million voices coming at us competing in volume, we desperately need clarity.

Then I remembered something I’ve always known, that distractions are real life. This is it. This is our life. Not our plans, not our wishes. This is it, however it looks. So whether we are working extra or not at all, whether we are homeschooling for the 10th year or for the first time, whether we feel stranded or scared or exasperated, this is it.

It sounds depressing, but it’s not, I think. In fact, it’s pretty sweet. So what’s the bottom line? Honestly, I think what it boils down to is this: love God and love others.

That’s it.

Love God, love your people. Sometimes that looks like a lot of dishes. Sometimes it looks like working through anxiety with a child. Sometimes that looks like making bean burritos for teenagers or a long talk with someone younger than you about life and faith. Sometimes that looks like working extra hours to keep a roof over their heads. Sometimes that looks like a gentle word to an angry stranger, it could look like reassuring a toddler. It looks like open hands and patience and food and mindfulness of other people. It looks like laying down our own agenda in order to consider someone else more important than ourselves. And it doesn’t look shiny or publicly acclaimed or fancy, but Jesus wasn’t shiny or fancy and eventually got the ancient version of “cancelled.”

Love God. Love people.

And you know what else? Discipleship. Jesus said to go and make disciples. He didn’t say to make sure everything stayed the same, he didn’t say to wait for times to get better, he didn’t say to hang your heart on government or media or money or health or all the things that are unstable. None of that changes the beauty of bringing another person into our lives—that’s discipleship. Teaching someone how to make a bed, that’s discipleship. Talking through what you know about how to seek God and hear truth, that’s discipleship. Solving conflict between siblings, teaching someone how to cook on the cheap, sharing something true with your people, stopping your life to meet a need, that’s discipleship. It looks real, it looks simple.

Simple, but not always easy. Because sometimes stray dogs come with puppies and the cost is much more than you agreed to. But so is the prize. So today, be encouraged! You don’t need to fix the world’s problems, you only need to love God and love people. It will look different for each one of us, but if we can stay in the love lane, we are crushing it. And something beautiful will be born in it you might even be able to hold in your hands. Maybe relational health. Maybe spreading peace. Maybe receiving peace. Maybe renewed strength and purpose and courage.

You can do this.

love,

kate

P.S. When dogs give birth, it’s called “whelping.” See what I did there? ;)