Saturday, August 16, 2014

If We Were On a Coffee Date | No. 6

If we were on a coffee date, it would look a lot different than our dates in the past. We'd be sitting inside because it's currently 102 degrees outside. And the humidity is at one-large-wet-cat-sitting-on-my-head percentage.

If we were on a coffee date, we'd definitely be at a Starbucks because I have yet to find one of those super cute hipsters cozy coffee shops. I know they exist, I just haven't found one close yet. So two skinny vanilla lattes for us! (Unless you'd prefer something else.)

If we were on a coffee date, I'd ask how you week was and if anything exciting or out of the ordinary happened. And let's not skimp on the details please. We got time.

If we were on a coffee date, I'd tell you my daughter is a genius. Not a prodigy or anything, but I think she's playing us. From walking, or not walking, to food choices and books to be read, she's figured out we're wrapped around her finger. It's bad. I'm not going to rat anyone out but Tyson one of us fed her a milkshake for dinner last night.

If we were on a coffee date, I'd tell you I've been on an unspoken social media hiatus. Mostly because I realized I couldn't handle the fighting and bickering and badgering that's been flooding in; all in the name of "speaking out." I understand opinions and conversation, but the gloves have come off and mud is flying and none of it sits well with me.

If we were on a coffee date, I'd ask how I can pray for you. It's a little churchy. Ok, a lot churchy. But I'm learning a ton of prayer and intercession and community and sisterhood. So I want to pray for you, in the least cheesy way possible :)

Original photo via | Edited by JM

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

On Singing, Songwriting, and Living Out Dreams

My favorite feeling right now is when people ask me what my new job in Austin entails and I get to reply with, "Writing songs and leading worship."

Will someone please pinch me?

Of course there is so much more to that type of job than sipping lattes at Starbucks and writing cool melodies and piercing lyrics on a clean silver Mac Book Pro. (Okay, we all know my Mac isn't clean. I have a toddler. Okay, we know it's not all my toddler's fault.) 

The Singer/Songwriter life is actually less glamorous than most people think it is. I know Instagram puts a hazy glam cam on it all, but it's just that. A cam for glam. 

Unless you're one of the gifted few who can sit and pop out songs like a toaster oven, writing music can be grueling, discouraging, and tedious.

But whose job isn't at one point or another?

If, ten years ago, someone would have told me what my life would look like in June of 2014, I would have laughed in their face.

Me? Songwriting and leading worship for a living? No. I'm going to be a psychologist. 

Yea, okay.

No seriously. I want to be a psychologist. Or maybe an English teacher. I don't know, I haven't made up my mind yet. Or a whale trainer. The jury's still out, but there's no way I'm going to make a living singing and writing. 

Oh little Jules of little faith. 

Deep down I knew, if someone handed me a singer/songwriter contract, I would have taken it in a millisecond. It was my dream job. But dream jobs are hard to come by. And as a 16 year old, thinking about college degrees, "Bachelor in Singer/Songwriter-dom" was laughable. 

Until June 2014. When this guy handed me a singer/songwriter contract and said, "Welcome to the team."

But here's a secret: This "dream job" of mine, came with a lot of hard work and patience, but not in the ways we usually suspect.

I didn't work to be a songwriter. I just wrote songs.

I didn't work to be a singer. I just sang, wherever I was, with whoever would let me and sing along with me. 

Dreams don't happen in a moment. They happen over thousands of moments stacked on top of one another. (Tweet it!) They happen by sewing one stitch at a time, in the direction the fabric leads. 

My favorite author sums this concept up of living our dream lives this way:
“Everything is interim. Everything is a path or a preparation for the next thing, and we never know what the next thing is. Life is like that, of course, twisty and surprising. But life with God is like that exponentially. We can dig in, make plans, write in stone, pretend we're not listening, but the voice of God has a way of being heard. 
It seeps in like smoke or vapor even when we've barred the door against any last-minute changes, and it moves us to different countries and different emotional territories and different ways of living. It keeps us moving and dancing and watching, and never lets us drop down into a life set on cruise control or a life ruled by remote control. 
Life with God is a dancing dream, full of flashes and last-minute exits and generally all the things we've said we'll never do. And with the surprises comes great hope.”   
- Shauna Niequist, Cold Tangerines

 - - - - - - - - - -

What dream do you feel is unattainable, laughable even, yet it burns in your heart to do? 

Thursday, August 7, 2014

Mo's Love Bows | Enchanted Bow Shop

Baby bows have been my obsession since day one with Baby Girl Mo. Luckily, she doesn't mind them either. Every time a package came to our door, Ty thought it was his. He'd open it and say, "Seriously? Another one?!" Yup. We Mo's love bows!

These adorable felt and fabric bows were gifted from Enchanted Bow Shop. Amy is a friend of mine and I'm so excited for her new shop venture

She's offering ya'll a special discount for the weekend (and her bows are already reasonably priced...)! Use MOBOWS at check out and get 15% off your whole order!


Wednesday, August 6, 2014

The Lord's Prayer Song

The Lord's Prayer melodies written by Chris Sligh, Tyson Morlet, Staci Jinkerson and Jake Packett. Props to the Shoreline Creative team for makin' us look good. 

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

She Wanted to End her Life | Staci's Story on Suicide & Depression

I have a story to share today. It's not my own, but it is the story of over 30,000 people each year. This might be you. This might be a friend. This might be a daughter or son or niece or grandchild.

My very brave friend, Staci, tells her story of battling against suicide and depression, knowing there are more like her out there.

Where light shines, darkness has no place. Consider this a sunbeam.

Want to connect with Staci? Leave a comment or send an email and it will be forwarded to her! You can also connect with her on her own blog, Unearthing Eden

Monday, July 28, 2014

Office Hours

“In a very real sense not one of us is qualified, but it seems that God continually chooses the most unqualified to do his work, to bear his glory. If we are qualified, we tend to think that we have done the job ourselves. If we are forced to accept our evident lack of qualification, then there's no danger that we will confuse God's work with our own, or God's glory with our own.” 

One thing I love about this team is that we are all extremely different. It can be a source of contention sometimes. But that's a whole other post. Today is about how we're working to open up the lines of communication. 

Six people. Six different backgrounds. Six angles on theology. Six preferences on worship. And those six have to make each weekend work well. 

The secret? Talking. 

As awkward as it can get, talking has been what's unified us most. We're trying not to assume on our team. We're learning to ask questions and really understand where each other's coming from. Hashing out philosophies and hurt feelings, sorting through the good and bad ideas, trusting the other person has our heart in mind. Because we know, all the talent and anointing in the world can easily be irrelevant if tainted by division. 

And so far, it's bid us well. 

Saturday, July 26, 2014

Sunday's Set | Shoreline North Campus

Oceans (Hillsong) | Always Will (Hillsong) | Alive (Hillsong) | Forever (Kari Jobe) | Hosanna (Hillsong) | Sixty One (Shoreline)

- - - - - - - - - -
I am so proud of the team Ty and I have joined at Shoreline Church. Between the staff and volunteers, there are so many talents hands and brains that go into each of the services. To be honest, we're still soaking it all in. (And I swear I'm not making the "skinny arm" in this shot. I don't actually know what I'm doing. #typical)

If you'd like to watch our weekend live, it streams Sundays at 9AM & 11AM Central Time

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

I'm Giving Up My Husband's Holiness

It was our third anniversary and my parents gave us their last weekend at their timeshare in Lake Tahoe. While we'd never experienced the glorious beauty of the west lake, in every mention of where we were going, people would rave. I mean raaaaave about it's beauty.

It'll make you think of heaven, one friend said. Especially when the water is still and glassy.

If only I'd known how much prophecy was percolating in her words.

We checked in, grabbed some dinner, and then decided to take a little drive around the lake.

Now, those of you who've been to Lake Tahoe know that "little" and "lake" aren't quite companions.

We drove in silence for the first 30 minutes, both lost in our own thoughts about the last three years.  Another 30 minutes passed of small talk about how beautiful the lake really was. Then I blurted, How big is this lake?!" 

We laughed.

And then I started crying.
And then Tyson, like the average guy, was utterly and totally confused.

You see, when we began our drive around the lake, I remembered my friends words about heaven and glassy and stillness. Man, it does look like heaven. Or at least what we perceive heaven to be. I can't wait for heaven. I can't wait for the Ctrl+Alt+Dlt button on life. Although I love my life, I know heaven will be greater. 

Wait, how do I know that? How I do know God is just going to start everything over? That goes against everything we know about Him. He is a Creator, an architect, a designer and a lover of beautiful things. He takes His time. He owns time. (Click to tweet.)

So what would cause me to think that in the new heaven and new earth, all things will cease to exist as they currently are?

Tradition maybe? Bible flannel graphs? End times debacles and Armageddon tales?

But if what I know about my God, the Creator, is true, then He is currently making all things new. Without obliterating them first.

Which means, speaking directly into my situation, He is making me new.
Which means, He is making Ty new too. Right now.

That's when the tear broke the dam of responsibility.

I am not responsible for my husband’s holiness. God is. 

At the time, his sin seemed way worse than mine, because, well, I had a scale by which I measured them. No matter my good intentions. Up until that point, I was so focused on purging him and "helping him," I lost sight of him. I was so focused on the him sin was clinging to and not the him God created. The eternal parts of him. The parts that matter.

The husband. The musician. The artist. The man of his word. The integrity. The loyal. The steadfast. The committed. The fighter. The hard-worker. The warrior. The victor.

Focusing on the temporal was prohibiting my view of the eternal. The beautiful, magnificent, mind blowing eternal. (Click it to tweet it.)
- - - - - - - -

This is why I wept. I started to get uncomfortable with the silence because my thoughts were so far ahead of me, into a territory of faith and grace I'd only wished for, and I was afraid to talk about it. Especially with my husband.

Why? Because he knew me. He knew my prones and wanderings. He knew my fear and my lashes.

And what I was mulling over for the last hour had gone from curious contemplation to a big-huge-marriage-turning confession.

Babe, are you ok? He asked.

No, I'm not okay. I need to apologize to you for the last three years. 

I was faking forgiveness as best I could. I tried to control situations and circumstances as "preventative" measures for this man of God I'd married. And while I liked to think it was all for him, it was actually because I was terrified of losing my fairytale. My Christian fairytale.

Until the lake.
- - - - - - - - - -

I'm sorry, I mustered through the ugly crying. I'm so sorry for only seeing the temporal ugly fading parts of you and completely missing the eternal parts of you. I'm sorry for holding so tightly to your holiness and not giving you freedom in our marriage. I'm sorry for holding your sin over your head in the most Christian way possible. 

I'm done.
 No more. I want to be a safe place for you from this moment forward. 

- - - - - - - - - -

That day, we were set free. Again.

And now that I think about it, I'm going to refer to that day as our second marriage.

We committed again. We laughed again. And we continued on our marital journey with fresh faces and clean hands.

^^^Opinions, two-cents, questions and ramblings are welcome. And go above. Go ahead. Try it.

Reader Faves.