Christianity Archives - Page 5 of 8 - Ashley Hackshaw / Lil Blue Boo

Make Room for Joy: Quit Something Every Thursday

January 3, 2014 by Ashley Hackshaw

“Every Thursday I quit something.”
-Bob Goff

Bob Goff was being sarcastic when he said that at the Willow Creek Leadership Summit this summer, but I wrote it down because I thought I might give it a try. I’ve been looking for things I can give up. Remember I gave up Candy Crush? Yep it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I didn’t want any of my child’s memories to include me with an iPad glued to my face, and each time I chose Candy Crush over spending time with my daughter or husband the message was:

Candy Crush is more important than you.

Each time I take a phone call while having lunch with a friend or family member the message is:

This phone call is more important than you.

Each time I walk and scroll through my phone and pass closely by a stranger the message is:

You are invisible to me.

Yuck. And I know how annoying it is but sometimes I do it anyway. I don’t want to be that person.

It is the individual who is not interested in his fellow men who has the greatest difficulties in life and provides the greatest injury to others. It is from among such individuals that all human failures spring.
-Alfred Adler

I’ve started to keep my phone on silent for most of the day and I’ve deleted all the apps that are time fillers. It’s a good start. I try to put away my phone while I’m walking on the street or while a store clerk is checking me out. There are still too many things competing for my attention and I’m working on that. The more I give up things, the more I realize how those things were diluting my real experiences.

I see more.

I listen more.

I read more.

I sleep better.

My joy is richer.

I love the book Celebration of Discipline by Richard Foster. There’s a chapter where he outlines seven principles for simplicity…and he talks about the importance of rejecting anything that produces an addiction in you. I think addiction is when I check my phone before I get in the shower, and then re-check it as soon as I step back out. I’m not sure I can reject my phone, but I can distance myself from it as much as possible.

Simplicity is freedom, not slavery.
-Robert Foster

I’m slowly re-discovering the things the modern world has stored away and forgotten about. I’m still looking for the perfect rotary phone with the super long cord. I love my “new” typewriters. I see the words pop up on the page and it feels like I’m making them permanent. You should see how frustrated Boo gets when she realizes she can’t backspace. Yikes: I’ve learned how dependent I am on spell check. I can’t spell anymore and that scares me.

Instead of spending time on my phone the other day in the Costco Pharmacy, I picked up a magazine. The first article I flipped to was “This is Your Brain on Gadgets.” Pick it up next time you are there or let me summarize in a nutshell: frequent use of technology changes your brain, and not in a good way. And imagine what it is doing to young, child-sized brains…sad and scary.

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So how do we become deep people?

Begin to look for the time fillers in your life. Find ways to unplug from them. Don’t let them dilute your life, intrude and thin out your joy.

And don’t let time fillers be more important than the things that are really important.

Don’t just fill time just to fill time.

Make room for joy.

What I love:

1. The Celebration of Discipline by Richard Foster: An Christian manual on how to navigate this crazy world by returning to simplicity and discipline. I wish the whole world would read this book (and only watch Little House on the Prairie).

The Year of Joy Recap:

Day 1: The Year of Joy: You are deserving of joy. Many times we confuse joy with happiness. They are two separate things. Happiness comes from circumstances, but joy is an attitude that defies circumstances.

Day 2: A Bigger Target: Focus changes everything. Our goal in life should be to be much, not to have much.

A Bigger Target

January 2, 2014 by Ashley Hackshaw

Once it finally dawns on us that we will not be remembered for what we have accomplished or what we have achieved or how much money we have made, we acquire the ability to change in a fundamental way. –The True Measure of a Man

When my dad died, the one thing that shocked me was that no one really mentioned his business success or how hard he had worked. What people did remember was how friendly he was and the difference he had made in their lives. That made it much easier for me to see the true meaning of his life and the impact he had on others. It also made me wonder what I’ll be remembered for one day.

For so long I used to derive my significance from what the world told me was success: grades, college education, high paying job, retirement account, etc.

I’ve changed my target.

I’ve changed what my focus is in life. I changed it from financial success and material things to a bigger picture.

New target: Joyfully God-Centered

I added “joyfully” to God-centered because honestly I’ve met some scary God-centered people in my past…sadly including a child holding a Bible on a street corner telling me I was going straight to hell. Yikes. Back when I was asked to write a testimony over Christmas, the first thing I did was look up: How to give a testimony. One of the articles said to stay away from using words like damnation and abomination and sin and repent. I was like: what?! now I have to re-write the whole thing! Just kidding.

I like to think that being joyfully God-centered is a clear focus for myself and my family while not being judgmental of people of other faith or lifestyles. It means we are all about love and acceptance. It’s our one assignment. We do things that matter to God and we do them joyfully.

Whatever faith you are (or not), try changing your target. What is your big picture? Change the target of your family. Change the target of your children. With a clear and focused target, your perception will begin to change. Focus changes everything. Things fall into place because the new focus begins to eliminate all the confusing signals we get from the world around us. Our goal in life should be to be much, not to have much.

By creating a bigger target, without all the things society tells us we need as our target, we free ourselves to be: ourselves. We can live authentically. The world can be big and scary sometimes and I can’t control what happens to me or what people think of me, but I can control what my target is. And I can control how I feel about myself and know that I am deserving of joy. This has given me the freedom to make big decisions that don’t fit into what the world thinks is the right path. On things I used to get upset about I find myself saying: What difference will this make tomorrow? What difference will this make in a year? It doesn’t matter so much anymore what people think of me. People thought Mr. LBB and I were crazy to leave our old jobs. It probably took me longer to leave than it should have because I feared what people would think of me. I feared shame. I was consumed with worry. That means I was living to impress others, because otherwise why would have stuck around so long at a job I was miserable in.

Sacrificing who we are for the sake of what other people think just isn’t worth it. Yes, there can be authenticity growing pains for the people around us, but in the end, being true to ourselves is the best gift we can give the people we love. When I let of of trying to be everything to everyone, I had so much more time, attention, love and connection for the important people in my life. –Brene Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection

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I was talking to a man at church recently and I asked where he lived. He looked embarrassed and said that he lived across town in a tiny one bedroom apartment. He seemed apologetic as he talked about how he didn’t own much and his car was old.

Me: Is your car paid for?
Him: Yes. But I guess I should get a new car soon. And I wish I owned a house.
Me: I think it would be amazing to have a small space that freed me up to do more things. It would be less cleaning, less financial pressure, and just, well, simple.

He looked shocked for a moment. He told me he’d never thought about it that way before. When he talked about his job he said it wasn’t an important job and that most of the people he worked around seemed miserable.

Me: But maybe that’s why you are there? You are so friendly and kind, and humble. I would think your purpose there would be the most important… You have the ability to profoundly change someone’s day.
Him: But even the boss doesn’t seem happy, and he makes so much money.
Me: Well imagine the pressure on him from the powers-that-be in that company. I wouldn’t want that, for even double what he makes. I’ve been there. He probably loses a lot of sleep over it all. I’d rather have your job honestly. And you could mentor up to him, it might be hard and he might ignore you, but at least he would know that you care that he’s stressed out.

I could see a light bulb go off in his head, and he looked very thoughtful. He just kept nodding as I told him how great his simple life sounded. Why are we so easily compromised? We say things like: if I just get that new car everything will be better or if I can just be accepted by that group of people I’ll be on my way up. And then what?

Watching a documentary recently on the Dalai Lama I thought it was interesting that he said for all of his travels, the happiest people he met were the poorest people. When asked why he said: well if you have a lot, you have a lot to lose. Material things can cloud the lens through which we are looking at life.

When we attach our worth to material things and what people think of us, we create a false reliance on things we can’t control. With a shaky foundation, we make decisions out of fear, or we put off making decisions out of fear. Watching National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation this year gave me anxiety because it rings so true: Clark Griswold could not enjoy Christmas because all he could think about was his Christmas bonus. Clark had put a deposit on a pool before he could afford it, and he became a crazed-lunatic because he wanted to preserve the appearance of success. Maybe we don’t go cutting down trees in our front yard channeling a slasher film, but we do destructive things in our own ways from the pressure of maintaining appearances. Sometimes it’s just not wanting to admit we were wrong. Yep, been there (just thankfully I didn’t have a chainsaw nearby). [Read more…]

A Christmas Testimony

December 24, 2013 by Ashley Hackshaw

Tonight was the Christmas Eve service at church. I gave my testimony. I wasn’t nervous…until we pulled into the parking lot. (Why are so many people here!? Oh yeah…it’s Christmas Eve.) Then I’m sure you see my heart beating out of my chest. As I was writing it the past few days it started out as the Ghost of Cancer Past post...but then it morphed the more I had time to think about it all…I think it’s a bigger picture of where I am today.

Boo with her Christmas offering:

I’m in love with her dress. @MatildaJaneClothing

I don’t really remember being up there talking…I think I blocked it out…but everyone said I did it! So many friends showed up in support. (Thank you Bri for making the long trip with your cute kiddos!)

Here’s the text after the introduction:

My mom is here with us tonight too. She flew in from North Carolina a week ago. (Mom waves). My dad is up in heaven. Probably finishing up a golf game. He always said that golf was the only sport he knew of where you get to spend four or five quality hours actually getting to know someone. One of my favorite quotes about dad is from a former opponent:

“Norman could beat your pants off on the golf course, and you’d feel like he just gave you a Christmas present. You couldn’t wait to get back out there and lose to him again so you could just share a great day.”

In May 2011, my dad was flying back from a golf tournament in Korea. He fell asleep like everyone else for the long flight back, the only difference was that he never woke up. His heart had stopped somewhere over Russia and the Artic Ocean. It was a complete shock to everyone. It was like our whole world came crashing down.

I remember flying back to the east coast for the funeral, listening to the familiar hum of the engines and the occasion ding of a bell. Those were the last sounds my dad had probably heard. At first I thought about the cruel irony of it all. He had miraculously survived a plane crash years earlier only to die in his sleep on a plane? When I was little I always imagined that heaven was just past the stars, and weeping I put my hand on the window as if my dad were just on the other side. And when I should have felt broken and shattered from grief, I felt God redirecting my whole soul from despair to hope. For the next few days my family found gifts everywhere, as if my dad had left them on purpose: a devotional he’d left on his desk that read Choose Joy, to-do lists that showed how much he cared about his friends and family, a metal heart he’d carried in his pocket to Korea that read “with god, all things are possible.” These were Christmas presents outside of Christmas.

Shortly after the funeral, I received an email from a photographer containing a photo of my dad standing on a bridge with his hand in the air. I recognized the pose. He was imitating the farewell wave that Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicklaus had done at St. Andrews atop the Swilcan Bridge. The course behind him in the photo, called Nine Bridges, looks like something you might see in heaven. The photographer made a point to tell me that he was certain my dad’s wave was a farewell wave, and that there were actually only eight bridges on the course, the ninth metaphorical bridge was a bridge to heaven. Dad had a huge smile on his face in that photo. It was a Christmas present outside of Christmas.

A few months after my dad died, I was diagnosed with a rare cancer. I went into surgery at Loma Linda and I woke up in ICU looking like Frankenstein and with someone else’s blood. The doctor’s said it was miracle I made it through, a Christmas present well in advance of Christmas.

The first line of chemotherapy was unsuccessful and so a second line was started. I think that’s about the time I just stopped caring what they did to me. It seemed much easier to just surrender. My hair fell out and I was forced to be still with long 8 hour IV drips. The chemo didn’t work but the doctor said he still had some hope for me and started a third line. One morning after that I opened up my Jesus Calling book and the message was: The journey has been too much for you. Do not be ashamed of your exhaustion. Instead, see it as an opportunity for ME to take charge of your life. Remember that I can fit everything into a pattern for good, including the things you wish were different. Start with where you are at this point in time and space, accepting that this is where I intend you to be.

I realized that if this was where God intended me to be then he was not causing my suffering, but he was using it to reach me.

And then suddenly, out of the blue, there was mercy. As I healed, I found myself increasingly unguarded and humbled. Little things became big things. Everyday was like Christmas. I started to find God everywhere. And I think God was like: well, finally, you noticed.

This past August when I was visiting my mother in North Carolina I grabbed a random book off of the guest room nightstand. I pulled it out on the flight back and as I turned one of the pages I saw that a handwritten note that it was the last page my dad had read before he died. It read:
Only with God’s grace can we find true strength, and it comes from acknowledging our weaknesses as we humble ourselves before him. It is a strength that carries us through the toughest times. It is the strength that provides us the power to change our lives.

Sometimes God is not so subtle. The fact that I happened to grab that particular book, and found that note was just another one of those Christmas presents.

Somewhere in the midst of cancer our family had started going to church. I remember one of the first times we came to the 10:30 service. The church was packed and Sienna took off and sat right down here in the front. I thought the back row would have been a much better choice. As we sat down I began flipping through the bulletin and I discovered my name was on the prayer list. I was shocked. This church was praying for me and I didn’t even attend church. (insert sob.) I didn’t even really know anyone. I was truly humbled. The sermon was on Psalm 25. In you Lord, I put my trust. I wrote down in my journal that day that it was the first time I’d ever felt like God was in church. The last hymn was “Surely the presence of the Lord is in this place…” And I was like,

Ok I get it God. I’ll come to church.

Boo has been here longer than Brett and I because she started in the preschool at age 2. Now she’s a 1st grader in the Academy. Brett and I both joined the church earlier this year. A few weeks after I joined the church I found myself thinking: Ok, this is not for me, where is the nearest exit? I don’t know if you are aware but the Presbyterian Church has a lot of committees and specific ways of doing things. I’m more of a free spirit, and an impatient spirit at that. But what I’ve learned is that being a Christian is being accountable to a community. I’ve also learned that God doesn’t always speak to us directly, sometimes he likes to work on us through other people. I must be wearing an enormous “under construction” sign because I feel worked on. I’ve learned how to apologize and I’ve learned forgiveness. I’ve learned more about myself in the last few months than I have in the last 15 years. Now I sit in the front row willingly, because I want to be here.

I attended the Global Leadership Summit here in August and it changed my life. I took 57 pages of notes and used up an entire G2 gel pen. It opened my eyes to the significance of our local church in this big huge world. One of the speakers Oscar Muriu, a pastor from Nairobi, said that it’s not how hard you work as a leader in your lifetime that matters, it’s how many leaders you raise up to continue God’s work. His overall message was:

Invest your life in other people, but not just in your own generation, otherwise your vision will die there.

A generation is 20-40 years. I’m 36 years old. I think that means if you are between 56 and 76 years old, we should be spending more time together.

So why this church? Well initially it was because: 1. We live right across the street and 2. My daughter goes to school here. But now I know that God led us here for a reason, that he’s led all of us here in some way. More often than not I find myself overwhelmed with thankfulness. I don’t want to spend any minute of any day doing things that don’t really matter to God. I want to encourage our pastors and leaders as much as I can. I think it was Bill Hybels that said: You may do something more profitable, but you will never do anything as important as helping build the local church.

I asked Pastor Doug recently why the Presbyterian church has Deacons and he went into a long explanation but the one word I picked up on was “ambassador.” I love that word because it’s what people called my dad: a true ambassador of golf. I told Pastor Doug that I already thought of myself as an ambassador of the church. We should all be ambassadors of the church, welcoming newcomers and building community. A common unity.

We should leave everyone we meet feeling like we just gave them a Christmas present, so they can’t wait to come back.

Merry Christmas!

Oh Holy Night.

My friend Shivaun and her family came over after church and topped off the evening. Now it’s time to go to bed before Santa comes.

Merry Christmas to you all!

Love,

Ashley