Old Friends and My 17-Year-Old Self

I’ve been in one of those moods. You know the kind of mood where I’m all in my feelings, remembering, thinking, reflecting, asking all the questions.

Recently I saw a handful of people from way back when and it stirred up all kinds of things.

Like sadness because life can sometimes change so quickly that it takes your breath away. One minute you’re living your best 17-year-old life. You have plans and people and places. But in the blink of an eye, your best 17-year-old life seems to vanish into thin air. It morphs into something you couldn’t have imagined and, in some ways, didn’t choose even if just for a season. And the plans, the places, and people vanish right along with it.  Sometimes they come back around, and sometimes not. And, I’m not being dramatic.

Like gratitude because some people feel like coming home. Do you know what I mean? It’s like your soul breathes a deep sigh of relief at the sight of them, because once-upon-a-time they were your people. And while 17-year-old Valerie didn’t have language for it, these people were safe, steady, and oh-so-significant to me. To have known them for any time at all is a gift. And, if you’re lucky, you’ll get to know them again.

Like grief because when you stand across from people who somehow still feel like home after decades of distance, you feel the sense of loss all over again and a tiny hint of wishful thinking that you could pick right back up where you left off. Because how can it possibly be that thirty years passed.

Like regret because I didn’t understand how to invite my friends into hard, messy things, so I let them go instead. I’m not sure many 17-year-olds really understand how to do that, at least not 17-year-olds like me. Now I know better.

Like curiosity because you want to know all the things. ALL of them. But to bombard my friends with all the questions would have been a tiny bit obnoxious. And I’m sure I was ridiculous, but I don’t even care.

Like joy because when you’re looking for it, you can find it in the most unlikely places. These people represent something good and right. They’re part of moments I look back on with fondness that make my heart smile even today. My best 17-year-old life was turned upside down by trauma and tragedy. But here we are, all these years later, because Jesus. And, my best life is this one. Also, because Jesus.

Like hope because God is strong and kind. He will never be one without the other. He is patient, full of unfailing love, and always present. He’s perfectly faithful, and friends, He’s paying attention. This weekend, He knew just what my heart needed.

That’s who He is —the God who sees. And, this is what He does — the God who cares.

In the meantime, if you have people in your life who feel like home let them know. Today. Tell them that they matter. Make it weird. Otherwise you might find yourself standing on the other side of thirty years, wishing your 17-year-old self had known better.

Love your people. Love them well. Love them on purpose. And, love them out loud. Yeah, what if we did that?

Be Kind Anyway

So I’ve been thinking…

There have been many instances over the last few years where I’ve come away shocked by people who have been unkind, manipulative, dishonest, and insensitive without a shred of self-awareness or empathy. I’ll be the first to admit we all have our moments, and I certainly don’t get it right all of the time. I’ve hurt people unintentionally, and I’ve been hurt by people. Anybody else?

But, here’s the thing: my heart is FOR people. Do you know why? Because, Jesus. People matter. YOU matter.

How we show up in the world matters; we are ambassadors of Christ. And, it’s not just in doing the “right” things — just like with everything else, it’s a posture of the heart. It’s doing the right things with the right attitude.

Sometimes, I get disheartened when I see people wounding others, not out of love but with malice. Because, here’s the thing: God is kind. He has demonstrated His kindness to us in big and small ways. And sometimes, He uses people to do that.

I’m so grateful for the people I’ve encountered who are kind, generous, and willing to see others. They have demonstrated the goodness and kindness of God to me in ways that are beautiful and beyond words. That’s the kind of girl—the kind of Christ follower—I want to be

How about you? When you walk into a room are you more concerned with being seen than you are with seeing others? Do you walk into a room with an attitude that says, “Here I am! Do you see me?”

Friend, there’s a better way.  Can I encourage you today toward a heart that says, “There you are! I see you.”

It’s a small but powerful shift in perspective. Because, we all want to know that we matter. To be seen. To be heard. To be known.

Show up and see people. Really see them. And demonstrate the kindness of the Father. Always. Have the same attitude that Jesus had (Phil 2).

Yeah, what if we did that?

Friends, never underestimate the impact of kindness.

Be kind. Even when it’s not convenient. Even when there’s nothing in it for you. Even when the other person isn’t. Do it anyway. Kindness matters. We can’t love them if we refuse to see them.

It may not always be easy—because, people. But it’s always worth it—because, people. We are for people, because Jesus.

Some People Aren’t Worth Keeping … or Aren’t They?

You’ve heard me say it before—words matter.

And I’m having a hard time shaking these particular words spoken by a leader about people who had been on the team:

“Some people aren’t worth keeping.”

It was a long while ago, yet somehow these words still sit heavy. I am people. Friends that I know and love are people. You are people.

Living, breathing, feeling people.

At the time, there were a lot of not-so-great things happening in that ministry—a lot of assumptions being made, a lot of conversations about people instead of with people. The trouble with that is, when we don’t have these conversations, we tend to fill in the gaps ourselves. And we usually miss something.

We fail to engage people with curiosity. We refuse to ask questions or have hard, uncomfortable conversations. So people are misunderstood. Misrepresented. Disregarded. Labeled.

And why?

Because we hold onto misguided ideas like: Some people aren’t worth keeping.

What’s the problem with this mentality?

The truth is, we say things like this when we don’t know what to do with people in hard and confusing moments. I’ve been guilty of it myself. We shrug our shoulders, wash our hands, and move along because someone else feels more “deserving” of our efforts and energy.

It’s often how we deal with our own pain, discomfort, and disappointment. But it’s not healthy.

[Side Note: Real life is nuanced and complicated. Relationships and leadership are nuanced and complicated.]

I know we can’t chase every person down who wants to leave. There are loads of books and teaching about letting people go. And yes, there is truth in that—not everyone gets a seat at the table. Not everyone is supposed to stay.

But there are also times when people need to see that you—the person entrusted to lead—will fight for them and with them, rather than quickly dismiss and discard them.

Not just the superstars. Not just the ones who make leadership easy. Every person you have the privilege of leading.

People are not disposable. Here’s the thing: people are not a means to an end.

They are not tools to be used for their gifts and then discarded when they no longer serve your interests. They are not meant to be overlooked because they don’t fit your vibe or avatar. (By the way, that’s gross.)

The kingdom of God doesn’t have a vibe or avatar.

People are living, breathing, feeling beings.

People need to be seen and heard, loved and cared for, and understood.

Yes, people will come and go for valid reasons. Seasons change. Assignments shift. Not everyone stays forever.

But that doesn’t mean it should ever be as easy as “some people aren’t worth keeping.” Those kinds of words have a devastating effect on people. Those kinds of words hurt. They leave scars.

There’s a better way to lead. So, can I encourage you, challenge you, even?

Fight for people. Do the hard work of understanding and knowing people.

Because it matters.

People. Matter. Read that again, and let that sink in.

Besides, what if the people we’re tempted to discard are the very ones we’re called to fight for?

We are called to love them and love them well—even the ones that aren’t worth keeping.

Yeah. What if we did that?

When It Feels Scary to Dream

2025 is off to a rocky start. And, 2024? Well, it proved to be difficult in more ways than I could have possibly imagined. But it’s also been full of unimaginable beauty and joy. Both things can be true. Because, Jesus.

I’m working on all my new year reflections and focus, but it’s proving to be harder than I expected. It’s a strange mix of expectation and anxiety when I try to put my favorite ink pen to paper. Maybe you’re feeling the same tension I am around the new year. Maybe, like me, you’ve had moments when you’re not quite sure it’s safe to dream or set any goals for 2025. Maybe you’re not sure you can handle any more disappointment, which seems to be lurking at every turn. Yeah, me too. Yet, I still dare to hope when I remember this: the faithful love of the Lord endures forever; His mercies never cease (Lamentations 3:21-22) …

Be brave, friend. Lean in. Dream anyway. Plan prayerfully. But, live fully surrendered to Him.

Here’s the thing: God has always been and always will be. He hung every star in the sky long before I took my first breath. Not only does He know all the details, He sees the big picture. Whether we’re dealing with significant loss or celebrating significant wins, He. Is. Faithful. And, He. Is. Good. He crowns the year with a bountiful harvest, and even the hard pathways overflow with abundance (Psalm 65:11). Always. Because that’s just who He is. It’s who He’s always been. Nothing has taken Him by surprise yet, and He knows what He’s doing. He’s still working on your behalf.

When It’s Time to Go

What if the bravest thing you could do is walk away? I made the very difficult decision to leave my executive leadership job in July without a Plan B. I didn't leave to start my own thing or work on a big project or take a new job. At the time, I had no plans and no idea what was next. What I did know -- without a doubt -- is that it was time. When I tell you it was difficult, I'm not being dramatic. I was heartbroken.

In the immediate aftermath, I was met with all kinds of things—some good and encouraging, and others not at all. I wrestled with all kinds of emotion and the urge to defend myself, or at the very least tell someone the truth.

God patiently, and sometimes not-so-gently, reminded me that's not my job. He also reminded me very clearly (again!) that often times faith takes an obedient, immediate next step without knowing what comes after. Those details? Again, not my job. Abraham models this kind of faith when he leaves everything he's ever known to go "even though he didn't know where he was going" (Hebrews 11:8). He had a clear directive and direction from God, but he didn't have the 10-step plan.

Friends, this is not easy. Because, we want the 10-step plan.

Sometimes it can be confusing. See, God clearly led me to that place and gave me that job. But God also requires that we hold things with open hands. Everything has a season. And when things start changing right before your eyes in undeniable ways, in ways that put you in a position to compromise your values or compromise who/what God created and called you to be, it IS your job to pay prayerful attention and seek wise counsel. It's especially true, when you've done everything you know to do in an effort to stay.

Leaving isn't always the answer. Leaving is hard. And painful, even when it's good. But, friends, staying in a place you know it's time to leave, where you clearly don't belong, or where you're not welcome isn't the answer either. It's not heroic or courageous. And it's not an act of faith. You might even call it disobedient. What's the thing James says about "knowing what to do and not doing it" (James 4:17)? Side note: there is a difference between leaving and running away. I've done both. Running is reactionary and fear-based. You don't have to run. But you can choose to leave with thoughtful intention.

For those of you asking yourself "Is it time to go?" Please know, you can trust yourself. Or better yet, you can trust the Holy Spirit in you. You don't need external affirmation to validate your experience. There is only ONE who deserves carte blanche privilege in that area of your life anyway; and He sees and knows things that no one else does. God is your advocate. Your defender. Your strength and ever-present Help. Be brave, friends. Obedience makes space for beautiful, breathtaking God-moments. God is perfectly faithful, and He knows exactly what He's doing and exactly what you need.

The heartbreak I experienced in July? Well, God has transformed that heartbreak into holy anticipation. I'm starting to dream with Him again. And it's exciting in the most beautiful way. The same can be true for you. Here's the thing: when we live with open hands, and we're willing to release predictability and the comfort of certainty, God always does more than we can ask or imagine. It's who He is.