Scandalous

Sometimes is is easier to pretend than to be real.
It's easier for me to pretend that I am ok.
To pretend I am not racked with
hurt
jealousy
fear
bitterness
confusion
insufficiencies
doubt
failure
frustration
and the list goes on...

Because doesn't fake live longer?
I mean, like,  forever?
Doesn't the artificial end up superior in the race for longevity?
It is plastic and perfect, streamlined and efficient.

From Barbie in the dream house to the nails on my fingertips to the fruit in the coffee table bowl.

And there are days I want that.
All. of. That.

I want the plastic existence.
I want to pretend.
I put forward the artificial.
Because it feels like perfection.
It feels like it.

Plastic doesn't yell at her kids and escape by letting them linger on their devices all day.
Mrs. Pretender doesn't ever cry herself to sleep, isn't consumed by fear.
Artificial doesn't get angry at the world and circumstances.
Perfection.
*eye roll*

But the fruit in the bowl?
I notice it's dusty.
Untouched. Unused.
A pre-relic with no purpose.

Barbie?
Someone has to create her life for her.
She doesn't even have the power to move, to breathe.
She cannot reproduce life...she cannot even live it.

And these french tips?
They can't grow. They just cover up the real thing.

So what's missing?
Life. Real life.
The plastic, the perfect, is only offering us a deceptive invitation to imitation.

And so we RSVP because the pretending and the plastic seems to hurt so much less...at least in public, anyway.

The artificial doesn't have to feel all that fear and pain and hurt...right?
But it also never has the opportunity to heal...
to love,
to grow,
to reproduce the beauty that makes this world worth waking up to,
to find purpose and to go hard and fast in the direction of her dreams.

It's true: fake may last longer. But it doesn't actually live.

So today, I am ripping up piled high stationery on the desk of my life.
All those invitations that beckon me to dress up and put on my best appearance, plastic performance.
All those masquerade balls that want me to exist in artificial anonymity so that others aren't inconvenienced by my imperfections- my living.
I. am. shredding. them. ALL.

Because we all have one ultimate choice to make:
imitate life
or
live it.

Me? I choose Grace. Scandalous Grace.
It is the only way I will ever truly live.

What do you choose?

John 1:16

"For from His fullness we have all received grace upon grace."

John 10:10

"The thief comes only to steal kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly."

Listen and worship to these words of worship by Hillsong United

#GraceLife
#SimpleTruth

For My Poplar Springs Family

Words seem so small when you are trying to express such an expanse of time, emotions looming large and memories so deep.

But still, some words need to be spoken, not just assumed…because these moments and days long for them like salve for the hurting and confused and fearful soul that is walking down this unknown and uncomfortable path. 

Both for the soul staying and the soul leaving. 

So this is my heart.

Friend to friend, family member to family member, life to life.

To you…from me.

To all those who watched us, young and naive, on that stage- young in love and diving into life together- engaged and stepping forward into life together: thank you for believing in us, supporting us. 

Thank you for walking us through the newly wed years that quickly turned into parenting years! 

For helping us walk through ministry with little ones that jus kept coming summer after summer it seemed! Lol! 

We could not have done it without your willingness to pray for us, babysit for us, embrace us in every way that 20 somethings need when they think they have a clue but don’t. 

Your grace was our hope and success.

Thank you.

To the church staff and leadership: Thank you for giving my husband the opportunity to walk out the call of God on his life. 

In the good and the hard times through these many years, we know God was sovereignly shaping the very things He needed in us so that we could step out into His call even now. 

We thank you for being a part of the process of growth. 

I pray that the Spirit’s fire is ignited in each of you like never before, all for the glory of our amazing God. 

May you look full into His wonderful face and see the person of Grace like never before.

May you breathe compassion for the broken, forgiveness for the fallen, and passion for the Lord.

May the His Kingdom be your focus, and His Holy Spirit your guiding voice above all the noise.

I love you in the Lord. 

To all those parents through the years and even now who saw what God was doing in spite of who we were and are and entrusted your teenagers, your children to our ministry: thank you for believing in us. 

We know we never got it perfect, and we got it wrong a lot, but we have always loved. 

Thank you for letting us love on your most precious gifts. 

Know that every choice we made was for one purpose: to bring a generation closer to the very heart of God. 

Water those seeds every second you get.

To all my church Mamas- and you know who you are- I cannot even type without tears.

You have prayed for me, loved me, supported me, cheered for me, kept me focused like no others. 

You taught me to be proud to stand up in the calling on my life as a mother, unashamed of who He has created me to be. 

It is because of you that I was able to step out into His call for me to homeschool my children. 

I looked for your faces on those Sunday mornings that I wanted to be in bed with the covers over my head, stuck in my pity parties. 

Yes, it was your smiles and hugs that reminded me of the Father’s love and energized me to run after His presence instead of sit down in my circumstance. 

It is my turn now. 

I promise to make you proud. 

Thank you for teaching me how to love this way: full of mama grace.

To the teachers, adults, mentors who have poured Jesus into my children: I cannot even begin to tell you what you mean to me. You have pointed my children to Jesus Sunday after Sunday, year after year. 

You have encouraged them, taught them, cried with them, held them, rocked them as babies, guided them as teens, run and played with them as children, wiped their tears, kissed their boo-boos, watched them take first steps, come to Jesus, be dedicated to Him, and discipled them in ways that a mama and daddy just can’t sometimes. You have had eternal influence in their lives! I know that I never said thank you enough. I appreciate your obedience to serve so much. 

Never doubt that what you do makes a difference! 

To my choir comrades: you will never know the privilege it has been to praise with you, laugh with you, learn with you. 

Thank you for trusting this far from expert to lead you into the Throne room with my out of the box ways. 

Standing in front of you watching you catch fire with the light from His face was my great joy and it is emblazoned into my soul. 

From Easter productions to concerts, to practices, there are memories that I will cherish for a lifetime and on into eternity. 

Pursue His presence above all else my friends. 

The veil is torn…praise your way to His feet with every breath, every note. 

The sound from that place will pierce the atmosphere. 

I love you each one of you.

To the children who sang, acted, and danced their hearts out for me through the years: I love your sweet little faces. I have loved acting like a goofball with you and for you. 

You always rose to every outrageous expectation. 

You are the picture of worshipping with abandon: No pretension, no apprehension…just pure praise. 

I loved every second. 

And to you ladies that were on that journey with me…wow what a team. Even in the stress there was unspeakable joy. 

Sing on. Dance on. Act on. Carry on. 

Keep calm and Sing Praise. :)

To the "other half of my brain"-you know who you are: there will never, ever be another you. (I can’t see through the ugly cry to type any more.)

To our fellow local, world travelers through the years-from camping to white water rafting, to camps, to the Dominican Republic, to Nicaragua, to Alaskan Wilderness: what MEMORIES! 

I smile at the thought of each journey. 

God sculpted so much in our lives through these days and weeks. 

Experiences cannot be recreated, but their lessons can be lived out. 

And that is my prayer. 

Whether it was how to love, how to have deeper friendships, how to laugh in the face of frustration and the unexpected, how to walk in faith and trust, how to simply slow down and enjoy life, how to share space, how to push through exhaustion, how to change a thousand flat tires, how to speak loud the name of Jesus even when they don’t speak your language, how to live to the fullest right where you are…that is what I am asking the Holy Spirit to overflow in your life. 

May those experiences nourish you and whet your appetite for more just like it in the days ahead.

To my Sunday School 10th graders through the years: that hour each Sunday has forever impacted my life. 

You challenged me to step way outside the box and listen to the Holy Spirit in ways I had not before so that I could reveal His Words and His Life to you. 

From fireworks in the back parking lot, to plantings in the church yard, to balloons, and games and my passionate rants…you followed me. I learned from you to open up my life in a way I hadn’t before. 

And I bet you know what I am gonna say: This is your critical year. Take PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY for your relationship with Jesus. Remember that the ONLY truth in this world is God’s Word; everything else is just an opinion. 

It is all about relationship, not religion. 

Fall in love with Jesus…and let the WORLD know. 

You are world changers.

To the Lifesource band who trusted me in the craziest of ways: I love you guys. 

Even when I know I drove you crazy, you still jumped headfirst with me into the presence of God. 

Every note we played together, every moment we worshipped together is so precious to me.

Thank you for trusting my heart to lead those students past going through the motions and challenge them to press in to deep places of genuine worship. 

That alone has been the desire of my heart, and will forever be my prayer for you and for them. 

My prayer is that performance and platform will never take precedence over the passion for His presence.

To the Sunday morning smilers…the ones who engaged with me from that stage, who followed me into His presence and let freedom reign in them through worship:Thank you. 

You may or may not even know who you are…but I do. 

And you reminded me why I had that microphone in my hand. 

It has never been about being heard. It has always been and will always been about making Him known. 

Seeing your willingness to hear HIM and respond unashamed is so beautiful. 

Keep going to that beautiful place, unashamed. 

You never know who you are encouraging with your boldness and purity of worship.

To our Bootcamp buddies: we have enjoyed living out a lifestyle of health with you! Thanks for always making it fun and working hard! We pray that you still go after inside out health as you walk through life! You can do ALL things through Christ! And to you plank, rep, and/or movement cheaters…you know who you are…you can hear me yelling!  Every rep counts! Love you guys! :)

To the students we have done life with, laughed with, cried with, text with, snap chatted with, pranked with, danced with, dressed up with, traveled with: what a fabulous journey you have made this for us. 19 years has left us with generations of children, now in all stages of life. You all will never know that joy we have in seeing you grow in life, but most of all, fall in love with Jesus. 

That will forever be our heart for you. 

No wee hours of the night will ever be too late or too early for you to reach out for us…we are always here for you.

We are so proud of you.

So. proud.

Remember the more you seek Him, the more you find Him.

He is not done with you.

Stand with arms high and heart abandoned.

He has EVERYTHING you need.

I love each and every one of you so. stinkin’. much.

To my fellow Homeschooling mamas: you are an answer to prayer! 

You have walked through so much with me. 

And I am so thankful to have friends who understand the reality and blessing of this journey. 

Being able to worship with you has been an added bonus! :) 

We will have a Bella night soon! Know I am always here for you!

To my Sisterhood friends: 11 years of all in for Jesus with you has produced fruit that none of us can fully recount. 

You filled my spirit with a sister kind of love that is so extraordinary. 

Thank you for giving me the privilege of pouring out Jesus to you year after year. 

Thank you for holding me accountable and loving me through my mess…God is not finished with us yet my friends!!!

To our family friends and "we do life with you" friends: there will forever be coffee nights, and skiing, and Twin Palmetto, and camping, and group texts, and blessing ceremonies, and games, and New Years Eve, and concerts, and sleepovers, and movies, and birthdays, and workouts, and…and...life. 

God just anoints friendships sometimes in ways we can’t explain.

You showed me that it isn’t the "minister’s family" against the world…a lesson I needed to learn. 

You made me brave. 

You helped me tear down walls I had built in my heart that I for so long never knew were there.

You gave me courage to trust God with my heart and love people for real, and that every now and then, you get this crazy amazing blessing of them loving you back with a Jesus kind of unconditional love. 

We are forever friends…and I am forever thankful.

To our Poplar Springs family as a whole: leaving you is the hardest thing we have ever done. 

But we love you all so much that we know we must go.

When God calls us to obey, we know that we have to follow. 

If we did not, we would not only hurt ourselves, but we would also be ultimately hurting the very ones we love so dearly, the very ones that make leaving so hard to do.

I am still grieving, still weeping through it all, because stepping out of the boat is scary and huge and lonely and the ocean seems like its going to swallow me up some days. 

So never think that for a moment that this is easy or trite or that we do not understand your pain and sadness , because we do. 

And know we are praying you through it.

But here is true beauty in it all: we may not be under the same roof on a given Sunday morning, but we are all on the same team.

We have the same Father. 

And nothing can change that.

Let’s choose to remember we are united in Christ for Kingdom purpose.

Let’s choose to break molds and stereotypes and be people that cheer our team members on as we all, individually and corporately in all different kinds of ways, live out loud for Jesus and go hard after making His Kingdom a reality here on this earth.

Make your mark on this world for Jesus, Poplar Springs.

I am cheering for you.

I always will be.

Your fingerprints are all over my life, the life of my family.

And I am forever grateful.

All my love.

For His Glory,

Julie P. McNeely

 

 

The Day In-Between

The time in between is the hardest. Death has had it's day. 

Darkness has seemingly overcome. 

And so we wait. 

We wait for the pin prick of dawn's light to pierce the overwhelming black that has tried to consume our hope.

We wait for joy to jump over our sadness.

We wait for life to bloom where death feels so firmly planted. 

This day that doesn't have a name because we can't- and they couldn't-see with their eyes what God was doing, the power He has already released for the victory. 

So we trudge through the in-between.

We wonder where God is, as if He's showing up late. 

Didn't Mary and Martha think the same thing? 

But Lazarus walked out of that grave. 

The victory came.

And another Mary walked early that third morning to try to cover up the stench of death that filled the nostrils of her spirit and mind- expecting to still find death where she had prayed for life.

They had forgotten hope.

They had welcomed despair and ushered hope right out of the waiting room. 

Because the in-between convinces you it is a destination, when in reality, it is only a path. 

Morning will come. 

And when it does, darkness has no say...it MUST flee. 

There is no competition. 

Light. Always. Wins.

And in that moment, the in-between is outed as the the bridge from here to there, the steps on the journey, a room to pass through- a place to be thankful for but never where you set up camp. 

You keep moving forward. 

And morning WILL come.

Wise. Strong. Courageous. Revealing. Empowering. 

Merciful.

...is the morning.

Because ***spoiler alert ***

He Lives. 

You Know a Person with an Eating Disorder

It may not be you, but it is more than likely a struggle of someone you know. Hear their voice...

I am your daughter. I am your sister. 

I am your son. I am your brother. 

I am your best friend, girl friend, boy friend, classmate. 

I am the skinny girl. 

I am the obese guy. 

I am the one who looks like they have it all together.

I am the cheerleader, the singer, the dancer, the band nerd, the jock, the class president, the valedictorian. 

I am the sorority girl, fraternity guy.

I am the Bible study leader, the barista, the roommate, the random date, the store clerk. 

I am the teacher, the gym buddy, the soccer mom, the new mom, the working and stay at home parent, the CEO.

I am a person with an eating disorder.

I am scared and deceived and desperate...and you may never know it. 

I am looking at my life spiral out of control, and I feel helpless.

I am crying out for help, but in this nightmare, no words form on my lips, no sounds escape from my mouth.

I am silenced by fear.

I am paralyzed by impending judgement.

I am suffocated by misunderstanding.

I am quietly marching to the rhythm of deception and secret and appearances.

I am dying every day because I am blind and deaf to truth and identity.

I am controlling the only thing I feel like I can control.

I am chasing perfection that can never be caught.

I am harder on myself than you could ever be.

I am exhausted and alone.

I am a person with an eating disorder. 

But helping me? 

Helping me is only a breath away. It begins when you break through the deafening silence, shatter the glass walls I've built. 

Do you see me?

Do you know me?

Please. Help. Me.

It's as easy as ABC...

Be AWARE of my actions and things I may be trying to hide.

Be BOLD to reach out to me if you suspect I am trapped in this vicious, self-destructing disorder. 

Be COMMITTED to holding me accountable. 

Be DETERMINED I seek professional help. 

Be ENCOURAGING every step of the way- even when you do not understand what I say, what I think, or what I do.

Be FAITHFUL to celebrate my small goals met. It will result in my major victories. 

Be GRACE. Because I never show any to myself. I need someone to show me what it looks like to stand up after a fall. 

Be HOPE. I am in the deepest dark and I need to be reminded that the light still exists. 

Be INSPIRING, directing conversations and focus to things that carry eternal, not earthly weight.

Be JOYFUL. I am good at feigning happiness...but joy escapes me.

Be KNOWLEDGABLE about the disease, it's signs and symptoms.

Be LOOKING for the masked symptoms I am working so hard to disguise. 

Be MINDFUL of your words in relation to body image and beauty. I catalogue them all.

Be NOISY when it comes to calling out the unhealthy and unrealistic portrayals of beauty all around.

Be OPEN to having hard conversations with me. 

Be PATIENT. Remind me-and you-that my disorder didn't develop in a day, and it will not be healed in one. 

Be QUIET and let me speak my fears, struggles, and temptations without judgement.

Be RESISTANT to the temptation to assume that I simply have an issue with food or portion control.

Be SAFE by keeping all diet products and paraphernalia out of my reach while I am on the road to recovery. 

Be TOUGH when I want to escape. Remind me that it's about what I am running toward instead of what I am running from. 

Be UNWILLING for me to accept our culture's ideals. 

Be VALIANT. Don't assume someone else will come to my rescue.

Be WICKED in my eyes: TRASH THE SCALE! 

Be eXPECTING me to deceive you, especially in the beginning.

Be YOU. Don't share your perfections with me. Tell me how you overcame YOUR struggles.

Be a ZOMBIE killer! Help me lay down the stench of death and 

pick up LIFE! 

I am a person with an eating disorder...

...and by reading this, and sharing this truth...

you may have just saved my life. 

*************************************

Having struggled with an eating disorder for over 4 years in my late teens and early 20s, and it's ever lingering after effects and struggles even today, it's time to demystify these disorders and recognize them for the serious issue they are. 

They are hidden and hideous.

They are deceptive and devastating to mental and physical health. 

They are everywhere. 

Culture glamorizes, laughs, and scoffs at these disorders.

But they are real.

And it isn't just the teenagers, the models, the stereotypical. 

I want to give a voice to all of the those you would look at and say, "I had no idea".

I want to empower the loved ones, the concerned ones, who don't know how to go any further than the phrase, "I had no idea."

Hear their voices. 

Educate.

Inform.

Be bold.

Take action.

Rescue.

Growing in Grace and Living Simple Truth,
~Julie

Find more information on this subject, check out National Eating Disorder Awareness 

New Places. Old Baggage. Big God.

Renewal.
Transformation.
Words I am clinging to- hoping in- as I run hard after the Lord today.
I am deep in battle in the deep places.
In my mind.
Regret looms over me.
Fear of being stuck terrifies me.
Failure taunts me.
And my Enemy knows all too well every play to keep me preoccupied with things...things that are... true, yes.
But my identity? No.
No.
Again...NO!

They may be places I have been, things I have done. Things I should have done. Things I shouldn't have done.
But none of that defines me.
None of that is bigger than the ocean of God's all sufficient, redeeming Grace.
None. of. it.

It is excess baggage that I have to leave behind.

So what am I doing?
I am saying over and over what my spirit knows is TRUE, but my head doesn't want to so easily believe.
I'm throwing out lies(what feels like every second) and clumsily clamoring after, digging for TRUTH with which to replace it.
Readjusting my feet on the Rock.
He hasn't moved. And He won't.
I've got to stop being enticed to jump off, jump over into dangerous places my easily-influenced-by-the-enemy-flesh-focused-mind wants to take me.

I have to choose to revisit only this:
While I was an enemy, Christ so wanted a now and eternal relationship with me that He took my life condemning burden as His own and dealt with that debt with finality and completion.

Because when I revisit that truth...that my God knows ALL the junk, all the filth of who I was and who I am and even who I will be...and loves me still...yes, when I revisit this, what else matters?

If the very worst I can imagine was true, is true or comes true?
It still doesn't change God's perfect love for me.
Still. doesn't. change. it.

So I take one step forward and then the next.
Not because of my ability, my inability, my successes, my failures, my position, their approval, my significance, my insignificance, my gains, my losses, the cheers, the jeers, the accolades, the accusations, the ideals, the imaginations...no.

I breathe deep His grace.
I lock onto His gaze.
And I move forward in the rhythm of His heartbeat...His love.

And somewhere along the way, I will find this mind renewed, transformed.
God glory seeping through these cracks and brokenness called my life.

Feelings cannot drive a life, only threaten to wreck it.
Faith is what takes me forward, delivers me to the anointed places my feet long to walk.
Eyes, mind, heart, emotions, life...on Him.
He has won this war already.
And I choose to Be Still and Know it.

I hope you will, too.

~Julie

It's Official: I Don't Deserve Christmas.

When words you don't expect pour into the mundane moments, you listen. Listen hard. And write fast. 

As "What Child is This?" flooded my ears, the Holy Spirit flooded my heart. 

Fresh Words. 

Fresh perspective. 

Refreshed Spirit.

Maybe it was for you as much as it was for me…wherever you are.

"Wherever You Are"

Come peasant King…and all in-between to own Him.

Enthrone Him with your praise.

All that we are, all that we have, not merely voices, but LIVES we raise!

There is nothing that you have to do to earn this love, this grace.

Simply turn and look. There waiting, you'll see His face.

Breaking into your darkness, there is no need for shame.

Love He pours out over you, Mercy is His name.

He took on our broken form in the most vulnerable way.

The breath of this baby to be sacrificed, in Him all power to save.

Messiah in this tiny form, held in His mother's arms.

And then, He takes on MY wretched sin, allows my humanness to bring Him harm.

He scraped His knees, bumped His head, heart hurt and broken by by life.

He was a baby, a boy, a man- yet still God- allowing all the strife.

So, I cannot see this baby and leave Him in this humble bed.

Because through pain He walked where I should have been and took on death in my stead.

I celebrate His coming, this child breathed of God.

But that night is only the beginning of the story, the path that Grace would trod.

The chubby hands of this baby were the hands pierced for my soul.

The heartbeat felt, skin on a Mother's chest, pumped the blood that was foretold.

Yes, the joy found in those new life moments, made life accessible to me,

Because this baby, 

My Jesus

My Savior

He died to set me free!

How to Scramble Eggs...and Eat Them

Scrambling eggs.

I am pretty sure it's the first thing I ever learned to legitimately cook by myself. So, of course, it was one of the first things that I taught my Caroline to cook as well. 

If you know anything about homeschooling(or if you don't then I am about to be really transparent here), you know that the days can be discombobulated and full of a gazillion things and directions all while learning is supposed to be taking place. 

So much so, that some days, the "cafeteria lady" (ummm...me), gets so busy that she forgets to...errrr...uhhh...fix lunch.

So it's a good thing my 10 year old now knows how to scramble eggs(the one thing this cafeteria lady always keeps in stock) from scratch to finish.

On a recent day that turned out to be one of those days where I considered to fake a potty break just to get to sit down and escape for 2 seconds, but then I remembered they will still find me...yeah....on one of those days, it was no surprise I saw Caroline pull out the pan and get to cooking because she was "starving". 

I proudly watched her do her thing with confidence, responsibility and care. And, as a seasoned homeschooler, I seized the opportunity to mark Home Arts complete for the day, and then, went back to my business.

I am guessing it was about a half-hour later that I was helping Caroline with her Math. 

Having trouble focusing and being rather irritable, she finally says with all the drama a 10 year old girl can muster, 

"I am sooooo hungry!"

I looked at her confused and said, What about your eggs? They didn't fill you up?"

Her big brown eyes widened and shocked at herself, she said, 

"Oh no, Mama! I forgot to eat them!"

Now you see, I taught her how to cook the eggs, I supplied her with the eggs, the pan etc...and she even cooked them...but until she eats them, they will never satisfy the hunger that drove her to them.

And so we "mature" Believers, leaders, teachers, pastors, who have access to the Word, know how to glean from the word, even know how to teach, tell, speak, sing the Word, find ourselves along the road of life, unfocused, irritable...dramatically, and even secretly, lamenting over the pain of our own spiritual starvation.

And all along...we have simply forgotten to eat.

We've prepared, shared, taught, counseled, attended, listened, but we have not eaten.

When we don't eat, we don't receive nourishment. 

And without nourishment, there will be no growth.

The grocer, the chef, the server, the dishwasher: they all have to put fork to mouth at some point, or they will never be fed. 

Being in the presence of the meal is not enough.

The nutrients that quiet the hunger are only released, only give life, when they are consumed.

Don't forget to eat.

Being in the presence of spiritual things, the rituals of religion...these things are not enough.

Take.

Eat.

Be nourished.

Let's stop starving in the presence of the banquet table of The Lord.

So go ahead...scramble those eggs...just don't forgot to eat them.

"Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food." (Isaiah 55:2 ESV)