Lori Florida

I had a recurring nightmare as a child. It woke me in the middle of the night and kept me awake worrying about whether it would fill my mind as soon as I closed my eyes. I thought I would outgrow it. I hoped my adult brain would be able to see things my child’s brain couldn’t and I would be free. Instead, a panicky fear of my Dad dying followed me into marriage and parenting. I’m 49 years old and until recently, the nightmare still showed up in various forms. This year my beloved Daddy died. I watched him take his last breath in front of me and imagined him arriving with the next in heaven. My whole life I’ve been clenched up around the fear that watching him die might break something inside of me and I couldn’t survive.  It didn’t happen. I’m more okay than I ever thought possible. My dad isn’t living anymore, he’s not here on earth for me to talk to or touch and I’m sitting upright and in my right mind. Today I’m amazed at my okayness. Finally being free of this fear I’ve lived ...

If you start looking for hacks to make your life simpler and happier in the wrong places, you will accomplish the exact opposite of what you hope. You will spin out on solutions to problems you don’t have. You will waste energy trying to feel good about accomplishments that don’t matter to you. You’ll quit because it didn’t work. Shortcuts are good for two things: finishing faster or having more fun.   When we drive from Grand Rapids to Chicago for a fun weekend in the city we usually want to get there as quickly as possible so the fun can begin. Extra time spent wandering through Gary, Indiana in the car isn’t tempting when deep dish pizza and a show are waiting for us in Chicago. We want to shave time off the trip any way we can. We’re looking for a time-saving shortcut, an efficiency hack.  You can only find a shortcut to an actual destination. Until we’ve set a course to Chicago, there’s no way to find a quicker path. Before I know I want to have a garden, it’s silly to fi...

There was a woman who spent her life hiding. She hid in her home; she hid in bravado; she hid in toxic relationships. The day Jesus went after her, she was hiding in plain sight. I wish I knew her name and could invite her to coffee. I want to hear more about the conversation she had with Jesus beside the well in Samaria. It must have been a doozy, because it sent her off into public with a loud message. Something profound changed in her heart, making her a person who wasn’t afraid to be seen and heard.  She suddenly spoke words with power. John 4: 39-42  tells what happened next: Many of the Samaritans from that town believed in him because of the woman’s testimony, “He told me everything I ever did.’ So when the Samaritans came to him, they urged him to stay with them, and he stayed two days. And because of his words many more became believers. They said to the woman, “We no longer believe  just because  of what you said; now we have heard for ourselves, and ...

Tigist invited me into her home in Ethiopia because I was—and still am—her  American sister/sponsor . When my heart was stirred toward orphan prevention, my girlfriends joined me, we pooled our money, and I earned the opportunity to be Tigist’s honored guest. The inequities of our lives churned inside me during our visit. Our two birthplaces make our realities wildly different. Her entire home is the size of my master bathroom. I have access to medical specialists, while her community has one doctor per 33,333 people. My hard work has the power to significantly change my situation. Her hard work, day in and day out, barely keeps malnutrition at bay. Trying to make sense of these disparities has been an open, working file in my mind since the day I met Tigist. I need to understand how God is working and what he expects from me. The privilege of my birthplace is a sacred offering I have to give to the world. Wrestling with these questions has caused unexpected certitudes t...

Have you felt the metallic taste of fear in your mouth recently?  I bet you are achingly familiar with the feeling of putting one heavy foot in front of the other when every step is painful.  If you're an adult I think I can predict with 99% certainty that memories of specific moments just flooded your mind.  Dealing with fear and pain are important markers of adulthood. They define our character and chart our courses. We tend to be able to be brave in our own lives but timid as parents We struggle to teach the skills required for dealing with pain and fear to our children.  It's a well-intentioned omission, but a dangerous one.  As we spend our energy creating magical childhood memories inside a bubble that is free of fear and pain, we can accidentally set our kids up. Trouble will come. If they aren't expecting it, it will hit them like a speeding semi they didn't see coming as they're skipping across the street to the ice cream truck.  An expe...

A lot can happen in a year...a lot can stand still too.  Many years ago my mom gave me a 10 year journal.  Each page is dated with the month and day and has a spot for a small paragraph for each of 10 years.  I opened to February 11th today and couldn't resist the pull to read my thoughts from 2013.  So much has changed since that moment, but reading last year's words put a spotlight on the bedrock that hasn't changed and never will.  There is an anchor that holds my soul, a purpose bigger than my days, a reason, a plan, a God who is doing things and can be trusted.  I have a feeling I'm not the only one who needs this reminder of who are are and who's you are  to put some iron in your spine. February 11, 2013 - journal excerpt "Yesterday was a really great day at church.  Pastor Ashok from India spoke powerfully from the Word.  Pastor Ashok started with a story.... The  Story of the Bamboo There once was a small shoot of ba...

Can't wait till I've got one of all of us together....but this is a good start!!    

Because of everything....and because of nothing. Yesterday was the 1 year anniversary of my backpack of stories .  Seems like a proper time to break the silence in celebration. It's been a year since we announced to the world that we heard God calling and we were ready to say "yes"....shout "YES!" It's been a year that we've been grieving for our brothers and sisters and babies in Africa.  We've been grieving for our own hearts too.  Since our eyes have been opened , we've become appalled at the selfishness and indifference we found in our own hearts.  It had kept us blissfully ignorant for the first 40 years of our lives.  That has been the deepest grieving and is teaching us desperate repentance. We will not live the same, regardless of what that means to our comfort or "American-ness."  My heart can't stand it anymore. It's been a year of cathartic writing.  This blog has been like a "plate of awesome with bodaci...

I'm not totally sure what's burning yet, but something is.  I can smell it in the wind, it's making my throat scratchy.  Our house is surrounded by woods, tall trees that attract wild turkey, deer and opossums o'plenty.  Our back yard also attracts the neighbor's run away Eskimo dog.  I think he thinks our dog is cute.  I know when there's a presence in our woods.  I know, because she knows, Moxie our dog.  Her body language changes....ears perk up, tail stiffens, and she gets that far-away focused look in her eyes.  Well,  there's a rustling in the forest, friends.  I know something's out there, smokin'....just haven't been able to stare it straight in the face yet. I spent Sunday nauseous, physically nauseous people.  I was sick to my stomach all day because of what I've been reading.  My heart's churning and my head's on overdrive.  I feel something coming, sense the winds of God moving, fanning this fire He's st...