'It's the MOST wonderful time of the year!'

The red cups are here! The red cups are here! It was a knowing I had deep down in my knower - two days ago, suddenly and without any notice, the most glorious thought popped into my head: 'I bet the red cups will be making their appearance at Starbucks soon.' There were murmurs confirming this revelation from on high but I had yet to experience it for myself. Until now. At approximately 1:38pm on Sunday, October 30th, 2011, I walked into my neighborhood Starbucks and there they were......

...standing tall and proud, towering over all the baristas and myself, beckoning me, calling me closer, inviting me to fill them with frothy milk and pumpkin spice. 

This truly is one of my favorite days of the entire year. I'm not quite sure what it is. I mean, I'm sure there are some superficial reasons attached to my adoration of the red cups...like gingerbread lattes and twinkle lights and permission to watch Home Alone everyday and letters to the North Pole and visions of sugar plums dancing in my head...but for me, I feel as though it is representative of something much more. Much bigger. Much deeper. 

Growing up in a liturgical church, one thing I have really appreciated has been the observance of the 'seasons of the church' that help guide us through periods of time leading up to significant moments in history, particularly in relation to the life of Jesus. I believe in observing the Liturgical calendar because it so often helps posture me for what's coming. Advent has always been my favorite season in the church - and I always find myself ready to celebrate it before the church says it is time to. Advent is widely known as a season when we sing about silent nights and snowmen and boughs of holly...but why? It is also known in most churches as a season of expectation and preparation...but for what? The word 'advent' derives from the Latin word 'adventus' which means 'coming.' And 'adventus' was translated from the Greek word 'parousia' which was commonly used in reference to the second coming of the Christ. So, while much of the focus of Advent is on a manger, a star, a baby in swaddling cloths, and nasty chocolates that we pull out of cardboard calendars, the excitement that builds in me is the reality of the destiny of that little babe, the Christ child. He would lead a perfect life, die for you and me, come back for you and me and reconcile us to the Father. And He will also come again...and He will come in GLORY for me and for you - His bride. 'He's not like any other man' is what we've been singing a lot at the place where I worship...and it's true...there's no one else like Him. I keep getting glimpses of Him that usher in even more truth to this reality. 

So - all of that just from the arrival of the red cups. But I encourage you to go to Starbucks, order a triple grande, non-fat, no whip pumpkin spice latte, go sit under a tree and ponder on the truth of the promises we live under when we are in Christ Jesus - and see what it does to your heart. 

O Come, O Come, EMMANUEL. 

Now for something a little lighter...

One of the most significant and influential moments of my life was the day that I realized that this existed:

THE BANANA PUDDING MILKSHAKE.

Thank you, Chick-Fil-A for changing my life forever. This is perfection in a styrofoam cup with a cherry on top. I treated myself to my very first but not last BPMS this past Friday night. I had had a long and stressful week - my only plans for the evening were to hole up in my apartment, watch movies in my pj's and sleep. At around 7:30pm, I got a hankerin' for something sweet. That's when I remembered that I had seen an ad for this delectable dessert from heaven. I drove straight to Chick-Fil-A in my owl pajamas to get in on the goodness. In my naiveté, I ordered a small. Never again will I make such an error. As I began to sip inhale the shake, I immediately began to get sad about how quickly this moment in time would be over. But I took comfort in the fact that I would be back, and I would be back soon. Ever since that pivotal moment in history, I have been thinking about how I can thank the genius who came up with the BPMS idea and brought it to reality. Thank you notes, Nobel Prize nominations, big slobbery kisses, a million high-fives have all been on list. But until these things happen...

Dear Genius Banana Pudding Milkshake Maker, 

I love you. You are my best friend. Forever. I will never forget what you have done for me.

All my love,

Liz 

on dying...

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I've been thinking about death recently - not in a paint my fingernails black and read a lot of Sylvia Plath  kind of way - but in a way that has really led to a lot of thinking about my own perspective of death. I think that it is our natural human tendency to be afraid of it, to dread the day that it comes to you or those whom you love. And to some extent, this is ok and normal...but if our 'citizenship is of heaven' and if we are in Christ Jesus, we need not fear death.
It is our experiences, however, that influence our perceptions of death. For me, I lost all four of my grandparents fairly young and literally watched all of them die in one way or another. My grandparents on my mom's side both fought cancer for years, only to have it take their lives after much suffering and pain. My grandparents on my father's side died within 24 hours of each other when I was 22 years old. My grandmother died in front of me as my mom and I performed CPR on her. I have had numerous friends die in car accidents, several commit suicide and one in high school die after a 7 year fight with leukemia. Death has always frightened me - and with good reason. From my perspective, it's ugly - it robs people of life and robs us of relationship with them. However, I feel my thoughts towards death changing. I still don't like it - but I am allowing God to heal the things that have influenced how I view death. He's teaching me a lot, too. It's not necessarily something new - it's just sinking in because of how He is touching the places in me that need to be healed.
I guess I should back up and explain why the subject of death has been on my mind. (for those of you who are about to send in the men in white coats...) Death took three people in the last few months who were very dear to me:

HAZEL PARKER:

Hazel is to blame for my competitive nature...well, I can't give her total credit because I think it is genetic...but Hazel was the one who first got me to love competition. I was six - and my mom dragged me, kicking and screaming, away from my Barbies - to try out for the track team at Hazel Parker Playground. Hazel had raised my mom and my mom was ready for Hazel's influence in my life. After much protesting, I gave in and lined up for the 50 yard dash. When the whistle blew, I took off and left everyone in my dust. As I approached Hazel and her clipboard, she was smiling, her eyes were twinkling and she said, "I know who you are. You are Gail's daughter." Something about those words comforted me and at that moment, I knew that I belonged with Hazel. I spent every afternoon after school of the next I-don't-know-how-many-years at the playground with Hazel. Whether we were sipping cold coca-colas or whipping up on other playgrounds in kickball, basketball, tball, etc...we were with Hazel. She was always teaching us, always loving us. Hazel taught us how to win and how to love doing so. But she also taught us the lessons in losing and how to do so graciously. Bad manners and bad attitudes were not welcome in Hazel's presence - if you were dumb enough to mouth off or have a bad attitude around Hazel, you were only dumb enough once. Her correction and discipline was swift and fierce - but equal to that (plus more) was her love for us. And we loved her in return. Hazel died Saturday, February 19th at 88 and 364 days. Read her obituary here. Her life was a picture of service and love. I cannot adequately express what having her in my life meant to me, nor can I begin to imagine what life would have been like without her.

EVANS TOWNSEND
aka 'uncle EV'
(translation: 'uncle Ibb)

Evans Townsend was a legend. Really. If you've lived in the Charleston area for more than 20 year, you'd recognize him as the guy in the old Oldsmobile commercials with the thick gullah accent saying '88-88??' To me, he was just my Uncle Ev - the funniest guy I ever knew (other than his brother, my grandfather). When I was little, I was afraid of him because I couldn't understand him - his accent was so thick. But as I grew up, nothing gave me more pleasure than to just sit and listen to him talk. He had the best stories - and such wisdom. He loved to tell me 'Ah-lizabet, tuhday is yo day. whun ya wake up in da mornin and put ya feet on da flo you gotta say to yuhself "dis is muh day. ain't yo's. ain't his. ain't hers. it's muh day. an den ya get up go get dat day.'
If I had a nickel for every time he told me this, I'd be a rich woman...but it never got old.
On the morning of April 5th, the world lost one of the most interesting, entertaining men. Our times around the fire at Rockville will never be the same. The bourbon companies have lost one of their most faithful customers. Uncle Ev made our lives rich - I am forever grateful that he was a part of mine.

BRADLEY COKER:                          
Never in my life have I met someone else like Bradley Coker. To say that this world lost a remarkable human being would be a ridiculous understatement. Bradley was one of those unique individuals who could love you, challenge you, encourage you, etc...just by looking into your eyes. He carried with him the presence of Jesus. I never had an encounter with Bradley that I wasn't grateful for. Even now, words fail me as I try to articulate what he meant to me and to this world.
Bradley's death was sudden - and in all of our minds, too soon. He was 34 years old. One moment he was playing basketball and the next his heart had stopped and he was gone. I will never forget the moment that I learned of his death - it was about 10pm and I was lying in bed, trying to recover from a horrible case of strep throat and tonsillitis. My friend texted me 'Bradley Coker just died.' It was one of those moments where nothing makes sense. What? How? WHY? WHY? How on earth could it be his time to go? He had so much in front of him - so much he was living for. I really didn't understand. My initial reaction was to be angry...to tell God that He got it wrong on this one. Bradley was not supposed to die. What about his wife? What about his family? What about all the things that You had called him to?This was the moment that He decided to teach me a thing or two...

But death is not final. As Jesus said to Mary and Martha at the tomb of Lazarus,

 'I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?'    

I have realized that God is asking me this same question: do you believe this? I think that my answer has been that I believe it in my head but I do not have a heart understanding of it and thus, my perception of death has not been accurate. I believe that God has been showing me that death, viewed through the lens of eternity, is quite remarkable. Beautiful even. Because if Jesus IS the resurrection and the life, that means that He conquered death. That means that He rescues us from death. That means that when death comes to get us, Jesus is right there, meeting it head on and cutting it off at the pass. And what that means is that heaven is present in that moment. I think back to that moment with my grandmother as she lay dying on the floor: heaven was there. Jesus was there in that room with us in the midst of our anguish, leading my precious Mama into the loving arms of her Creator...into LIFE ETERNAL.
And the good news is that He does that for all of us...
As I have said goodbye in my heart to Hazel, Uncle Ev, and Bradley, I do so with a new perspective on that which took them from this life. I do so with a confidence in Him who took them from death.

                                                                                         

John Swinton Townsend Bailey

What a precious little angel nugget! Just as I expected, God gave me a new love tank for this little bundle of wonderful. John Swinton was born around 8am on Friday, March 11th ...and all over again, my heart melted. With all the excitement, speculation, and discussion swirling around about the arrival of 'baby c' John Swinton slipped into this world in typical 3rd child fashion...with ease and little fuss. I think somehow he had an in-utero knowing that he better be ready for the madness: lots of carpool lines, a whole bunch of here and there and everywhere, and a big but not so much older crazy brother.

Welcome to the family, John Swinton. 

Your Aunt Lizzy loves you very much!

I'm finally getting around to putting all the scribbles of the last 2 months into words...bear with me!

‎"Never be afraid to entrust an unknown future to a known God."
- Corrie ten Boom

so many stories, so little time...!

The past 2 !/2 weeks have been INSANE. I've literally not had time to sit down and collect my thoughts...an therefore no time to update the blog. But there is SO much to report on.
Until I can post properly on each subject, I'll give you a little pictorial preview:

1. John Swinton Townsend Bailey. Born March 11, 2011, 8:25 am. 6 pounds, 5 oz. 19 inches long. AND PRECIOUS...

2. The world said goodbye to a dear, precious man of God. Bradley Coker left us way sooner than we thought was right - but God never gets it wrong. I've yet to really process his death...all I am sure of is that He is dancing with Jesus right now.

Bradley was a lover of Jesus and His children...

3. March 14th, 2011 - my 1 year anniversary of living in Jax. 

don't be fooled by the pretty lights...it's a strange place

4. NOISE (more on that later)

much more to follow, so...

more to love...

I have the distinct priviledge of being 'Aunt Lizzy' to these adorable two nuggets:


Betsy Boo and Jamesey boy

When Betsy was born, my whole life changed. I never knew I had it in me to love something so much...she was (and still is) perfectly precious in every way. She quickly became one of my best buddies. There aren't many people in this world with whom I'd rather hang out with more.
Being Betsy's aunt taught me so much about God's love for us. My brother and sister-in -law lived just around the corner from us and were so generous in allowing us to spend a lot of time with her. In the first 365 days of Betsy's life, I probably got to see her 350 of them. I remember when she was just a little baby, I'd hold her and look into her eyes and melt... for the first 6 months or so, every time I would give her that last bottle of the day and rock her to sleep, I would weep. She would look up at me with such trust, such love. I would often think that the simple and silent exchanges Betsy and I had with eachother held much of what God's heart is for all of us. She was such a gift to me - she IS a gift to all of us!

She truly is a beauty:



And then came James. Monster man, monkey man, one man wrecking crew, SWEET BABY JAMES. James came to us 3 years after Betsy. I have to admit, looking back, I was so worried that I had reached my love capacity - that what I had, I had used up on Betsy. But to my surprise, God taught me something else about our ability to love...it grows. When that tiny little boy came into this world, I melted all over again. It's like God gave me a whole new love tank just for James...and I didn't have to share it with Betsy because she has her own. James was the snuggliest little baby I've ever known...so sweet, so happy. I would babysit for Betsy and James every other Monday night and nothing made me happier than to be with those two. James, as I would feed him and rock him to sleep, would stick his finger in my nose. This was a mere forshadowing to the rascal we have on our hands. James is the wild man of the family, the entertainment- the one that keeps us chasing and keeps us laughing.

He is the definition of JOY:

Tomorrow, at 8am, I get another tank. Baby Bailey #3, who in every way is a miracle (seriously - defeated ALL odds to get here) will make his or her way into this world. I am about to burst with excitement. I cannot wait to make new memories with this little one - to love (her) and to learn from (him). If it's a girl, I can't wait to buy her pink things and tell her she's a princess. If it's a boy, I can't wait to buy him a dump truck and tell him he's a prince. I can't wait to smell that sweet little baby's head and kiss it's face. I can't wait...I can't wait...I can't wait..................!!!!

Monday morning video

'I had a dream my life would be...'

Last weekend was the annual  St. Andrew's women's retreat on Hilton Head. As always, it was a fabulous time. Lots of fun, lots of laughs, lots of tears. Being a part of the St. Andrew's community has been one of the greatest privileges of my life. Just about everything I learned about living in community and loving with the heart of Jesus I learned from being a part of the St. Andrew's family. I'd say that the biggest challenge of this past year has been how to function without the community of people that I have grown to love on the deepest of levels.
This year, the women's retreat, albeit wonderful - was different for me. I was an attendee from another place. For the first time in 5 years, I had no responsibilities, no leadership role to fulfill. Man, was that different. The hardest part, however, was leaving. As we wrapped up, all of my friends packed up and headed 2 hours north and I went 2 hours in the opposite direction. It just felt so...well, if I'm honest...wrong. I literally spent the next 3 days figuring out how I could follow my dreams in Florida but live in South Carolina. Guess what? That can't be done. (BUMMER).
The 'theme' of the weekend was 'Fearless' and our speaker did a fabulous job challenging us to look at our lives and how we are/are not living into what God has called us to. One of the most memorable moments of the weekend was when we watched this clip:


I dreamed a dream - Susan Boyle from Phuc Mai on Vimeo.
I've seen this a billion times but there was something about being in a room full of women who were confronting their fears and lost dreams that made it one of the most powerful moments of the weekend. It was as if we were all watching it for the first time, cheering Susan on as she chased a dream that up until that moment, everyone had written off. Our group of ladies were captivated by what unfolded and by the end of Susan's performance, many of us were in tears, many of us were on our feet and everyone was cheering. It was a real turning point in the weekend...a real stake in the ground where things began to wake up in the hearts of my sisters around me. It's amazing how quickly we can lose hope. All odds were against Susan when she walked out on that stage. What if she had received all that judgement and chosen not to sing?
What I am most challenged by is that I, regrettably, am no different from anyone else in that audience. I cannot say that my reaction to her would have been any different. That makes me incredibly sad. How are we so conditioned to look at someone and make such ugly and condemning assumptions about them? It really made me wonder about how many people I have had the opportunity to encourage but didn't -- how many people were influenced by my judgement of them and subsequently did not go after something that was in their heart of hearts to pursue. I'd like to think that I don't have quite that much power and influence over people but I do. We all do. When I was in the 3rd grade, my very large and angry music teacher told me I couldn't sing and I never pursued music again after that day because I was sure she knew what she was talking about. I'm not saying I'd be on Broadway today had she not said what she did but I do believe a bit of my confidence was bruised that day - and it just goes to show how careful we have to be with the people in our lives. I know I was convicted about how well I love people. I feel like I love some people well but there's a whole lot of room for improvement. What's the point of any of this if I am not loving everyone around me like Jesus would?

 ⁴ Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. ⁵ It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ⁶ Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷ It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

 ⁸ Love never fails...

 ...¹³ And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. 

But the greatest of these is love.

I was challenged recently to insert 'Liz Bailey' in place of 'love' and boy was that a wake up call. I am SOME of those things SOME of the time but I certainly fall short MOST of the time. My prayer is that I would be so bound to the heart, mind, and spirit of Jesus that I would be ALL of these things to ALL people ALL the time. Now that's a dream worth chasing...

I'm back...

Wellllll...I officially failed at what I set out to do in regards to my blogging aspirations. But what it comes down to is that everything that I so brilliantly decide for myself turns out to be really ridiculous. So, I have recently taken on a new attitude towards everything that I decide is a good 'plan' for myself: EFF it. (excuse my French - at least I didn't REALLY say it). I'm sure that will raise some eyebrows (Mom and Dad, everything is ok, I PROMISE) but I'm just choosing to get off that all too tempting treadmill that seduces us into believing that we have to have it all together and figured out. In ten days, I will have lived in Jacksonville for a year. ONE WHOLE YEAR. It seems like yesterday. And it seems like a lifetime. It's been the most freeing year of my life. It's been the hardest year of my life.

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way"

It all sounds WAY more dramatic than it really is. All is well and life is good. I've got much to be thankful for and little to complain about. I'm just re-visiting the last year and realizing how much effort I've put into things that don't matter. Time to scale back, get simple, appreciate the things that are right in front of me...

More on all that later........

to all of you (all two of you, mom and dad) who have been waiting patiently for me to post, I love you.