I dare you.

I dare you. This is a phrase that flows freely and frequently in the elementary and junior high phases of life. This fact (can I attribute the word '"fact" to my words I am confident in?) seems to be proven true in classic cinema and by walking through a park or a playground at recess.

One movie scene in particular comes to mind. I know Christmas has come and gone, but it will soon be coming again as it always does, so I feel no shame in plugging a holiday film in the middle of February. I am sure most of you have seen the film, A Christmas Story, and if you haven't, you may have mental reference to this particular scene if not the whole movie.

On a playground at recess, the main character, Ralphie, and his friends gather around a flag pole in the middle of winter and debate whether or not a tongue would get stuck to a flagpole in such weather. Ralphie's friend Flick affirms that he thinks it wouldn't happen, and is in turn dared to stick his own tongue to the pole. He is reluctant, but still firm in his opinion that it wouldn't stick. His lack of action results in a double dog dare, and better yet a triple-dog dare. We all know the rest of the story. Flick's tongue indeed sticks to the pole, the school bell rings, and all of Flick's "friends" leave him standing in the cold to fend for himself (Side note: that would never happen. Surely at least one child in an elementary classroom would have an ounce of compassion). Lucky for Flick, the teacher follows protocol, takes attendance after recess, sees Flick out the window, and calls the fire department to come to his rescue.

I highly doubt any of you have been dared or followed through on a dare that left you in such a dire situation. If you have, lets grab coffee. I need to hear the story. However, I am sure we all have been witness to a petty dare or two. "I dare you to cheat on that test." "I dare you to steal that candy bar." "I dare you to lie about where you were last night." "I dare you to jump off that cliff." The list could go on and on.

It seems to me that most dares have something in common. The action being pushed usually is something that either the person wouldn't want to do or would end in a negative result. If the dare was something positive, something the person would do on a routine basis or would reap immense benefit from, there would be no necessity for a dare to elicit the desired action. Right?

Over the past couple of weeks, I have been reading a book (surprised?) called 1000 gifts, written by Ann Voskamp. I have not made my way all the way through yet, so no need for a spoiler alert, because I won't be giving you one.

I'll give you a quick synopsis. Throughout the book, the author shares tidbits of her daily life, both growing up, and in the present. She shares her life struggles, her tragedies, and her joys. Throughout her daily life, she makes the conscious decision to look for the blessings that surround her and chronicle them all the way to 1000 blessings. She finds that blessings exist from the Lord everywhere and can be anything, even a flicker of light in a bubble floating up from the dishes. She also discovers that uncovering and recognizing the blessings already in front of her unlocks boundless joy in her day to day life.

We live in a present time full of "first world problems." We walk up to doors that say automatic that don't open. Our lattes are made with whole milk instead of soy. The IOS system (whatever that is) on our iPhones doesn't run quickly enough. Our GPS takes us to the wrong place. And help us all, our free local access television channels don't come with a DVR.

We encounter such "problems" on a daily basis, and then dwell on them as we drone our way through 5 o'clock traffic. We are so quick to point out the places we believe our circumstances have fallen short. But wait, do we take the time to point out, to recognize, or even glance at for a split second at the blessing surrounding us?

I know I don't enough. Too often, entitlement becomes the tune that we sing. We think we deserve what we have, of course deserve more on top of that, and expect the universe to walk to the beat of our drum and bend over backwards to make our ride through life as smooth as possible. This week I was reading and came across this: Psalm 24:1 "The earth is the Lord's and all that is in it."

It doesn't say, the earth is the Lord's, but everything in it belongs to the people he created. Everything is the Lord's. Nothing is mine. All that I see, all that I feel, all that I have, and all that I desire have something in common. They are all gifts from the Lord.

Think back to the last time someone gave you a gift. What was your response? Did you set it down without a thought, word, or second glance to the one who gave it to you? I'm going to guess no. You most likely said thank you and maybe even took the time to put a hand addressed thank you note in the mail.

If we respond in gratitude to earthly gifts, how can we respond to the maker and giver of all gifts? Gifts from him aren't limited to birthdays and Christmas. We are surrounded by his gifts embodied in blessings constantly. These blessings could be contained in a ray of sunshine through the clouds, a dimple in a smile, a rush of wind, or even a twinkle in an eye.

As we all live a life full of blessings and gifts, shouldn't we live a life full of gratitude? I don't think this comes naturally. Looking and seeing aren't the same thing. We have to want to see what the world so easily passes by. Seek blessings with intentionality. Live your life as an outpouring of gratitude to the Giver. 

In her book, Ann Voskamp dares readers to take a "joy dare" in their own life. She challenges them to chronicle 1000 blessings of their own over the course of a year. Do we need a dare to do so? Is there a negative outcome we fear? What's holding us back? Living in the midst of the Lord's blessings and in a state of gratitude promises a positive outcome.

"It’s habits that can imprison you and it’s habits that can free you.
But when thanks to God becomes a habit –  so joy in God becomes your life." - Ann Voskamp

A dare to live joyfully is one I think can accept.

Open your eyes. Look with intentionality. See. Be thankful. Be joyful. I dare you.

I would be remiss not to give you these links: {Ann Voskamp's 1000 gifts} & {Her blog: A Holy Experience}

I (almost) fell off the treadmill.

Cities typically have several cultural norms that a large portion of the population take part in. These norms often define perception of the location and are visible in the public eye. People in Dallas shop, and residents of California sunbathe. In my almost two years of living here, I have begun to notice something about people in Tulsa.

They run.

I'm not talking running to the mailbox to grab the mail or running into someone's open arms at the airport. I'm talking half-marathon, full marathon, wake up at 5:30 am to train every day dedication kind of running.

I, no matter how much I would like to be, was not born with the mental stamina to become a part of the sunrise stampede on the Riverside Trails. I have set goals, downloaded phone apps, and even bought (overpriced) new shoes, but somewhere down the line, I came or am coming to the realization that I don't want to run a marathon and probably never will (though, I wholeheartedly admire all those who do).

To supplement the running I am not doing outdoors, I try to make a daily (that's generous) trip to the gym located conveniently across the parking lot in my apartment complex. There, being a creature of habit, I set down my jacket and keys on the floor by the first treadmill, step on the track, and set the speed to approximately 3.2 (whatever distance measurement increment that is), and I begin to walk.

There are several things I love about treadmills, one being that I don't have to pay attention to where I am going and can walk without the fear of running into a mailbox, a tree, or even worse another human being (I take all measures in every day life to avoid any kind of embarrassment). That being said and that fear being removed, treadmills open up a world of opportunity in the area of multitasking.

Most days I generally walk for half an hour or so before I (attempt to) run. After I set my initial walking speed on the machine, I continue  in my routine. I put in my headphones and set my iPhone to one of my favorite Pandora stations (Ron Pope and Chris Rice are ranking high in my books lately). Once I am done skipping the first few songs on the playlist, I open the book I am reading at the time and flip to the bookmarked page. Then, I walk (and listen and read).

Reading and walking is a lot easier and more relaxing you would think. To be honest, if I had to choose between the two, the book would be the paper in a rock vs. paper scenario every time. I find some kind of motivation to walk in knowing I'll get to crack open a good read. It's killing two birds with one stone (I hate that expression).

Typically, the two treadmills to my left are unoccupied. I have read my way through several books, and listened to hours of music, all while walking without a single issue. Someone once told me that multitasking is impossible. A couple of weeks ago, as I walked, that thought crossed my mind, and I laughed a little, thinking I was proving them wrong.

I shouldn't have laughed so soon. When I walked into the gym last week, several factors should have forewarned me of what was to come. First of all, my treadmill was taken. The only available machine was sandwiched between two fast paced runners. I reluctantly chose that machine and began my routine. Second of all, the TV was on at a volume my headphones could not block out. I turned up the volume on my phone, opened my book and began to walk. Within five minutes, I found myself turning to my left toward the runner in my peripheral vision and then up to the TV as I heard a familiar voice. Before I knew it , I was losing my footing, and, while trying to catch my book I was dropping, I made a rather ungraceful trip, let out a gasp, and luckily caught my balance before I turned into an embarrased wreck. Perhaps I wasn't as proficient at multitasking as I had once thought.

Though I had no problem piling two other tasks on top of walking on the treadmill's path on a typical day, the moment something entered my peripheral vision, I lost the ability to effectively follow the clear, straight, and unobstructed path in front of me.

God has given us all a path to follow, a track by which to run the race of the Christian walk He has laid before us. Just like my daily trips to the gym, we begin to follow the path as a singular task. However, slowly but surely, we begin to add our own tasks and shift focus to them, confident we can both meet our agendas and stay on track in our walk with Christ at the same time. We build relationships that further ourselves.We seek to move up in our careers. We fill our schedules to the brim just for the sake of being busy.

On a typical day, this usually doesn't have an apparent effect on our walk with Christ. Sometime between getting ready for work, beating the rush hour traffic, and reading up on the latest celebrity gossip, we slip in prayer or a quiet time, ask the Lord to direct our paths, and then place our focus back on ourselves.

Too often though, our days aren't typical. Life shows up in our peripheral vision, and the world's demands begin screaming in our ears. Family members get sick. We fail to meet that deadline. We go through heartache. People let us down. And before we know it, we lose our footing and find ourselves in a dishelved mess clearly off the path God has laid out for us. We expect to reap the full benefits of walking with Christ even though we aren't placing our full focus on Him.

Hebrews 12:1-2a "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith."
  
Instead of fixing our eyes on Jesus, we fix our eyes on ourselves and those things we decide are important and too often find ourselves easily entangled. However, just as we can be easily entangled, we can easily stay on track by following Paul's instructions to persevere and fix our eyes upon Him. 

This doesn't mean we cut everything out of our lives. It means we shift our focus. Shift the focus of your activities and thoughts to bringing glory to the Creator. Stop focusing on yourself and look at the path He has placed right under your feet. 

As history would have it. Life still happens. We are greeted with the unexpected to our right and our left. However, with our eyes focused on the singular path and goal of the glorifying God, we will be way less likely to lose our footing. Though distractions still come along, we will be able to stay steady, knowing that an all knowing, never changing consistent Savior has given us the very path beneath our feet.

It's happening.

I went to Walmart last week. It's happening. It happens every year around this time.

The retail world, I have come to find, lives on a different calendar than the rest of us. Here is what I have gathered. Each holiday seems to begin months before (6 months before when referencing Christmas) the actual date and ends the day after the calendar states according to the items stocked on the "holiday" shelves at most major retail establishments. Hobby Lobby and Walmart's infractions rank off the charts.

As a result, at the point that outdoor temperatures breach 100 degrees, walking into a retail establishment for coolant based relief brings you face to face with rows and rows of "Santa Stop Here" signs and strands of glittering tinsel in the middle of July. 

The same can be said for most major holidays, each making a premature appearance. Valentines Day, however, doesn't have the same opportunity as the rest of recognized holidays. Christmas seems to encompass at least 6 months of the retail year and 90% of holiday shelf space. Subsequently, most retailer's are unable to stock their shelves with heart embellished material until a month before the calendar date of February 14.

Valentine's shelf life may be shorter than other holidays, but let me tell you, retailers more than make up for it. During my reluctant (I avoid Walmart at any and all cost possible) trip to my least favorite supercenter last week, I was greeted with an obnoxious display of red and pink the moment I reached the automatic doors.

Don't get me wrong. I love the color pink as much, or more, than the next girl, but during the months of January and February, Walmart takes it to a whole new level. Love was in the air. Literally. Oversized banners hung from the store's rafters printed with the word in every cursive font available in your typical Microsoft Office package.

It's unavoidable. Between retailers and greeting card companies, we are being told one thing. It's the season for love and more importantly the time to express it. Florists are flooded with orders for oversized boquets, and helium tanks run on low as America inflates their sentiments toward those they hold dear in their lives.

As Valentine's Day approaches, so do a vast range of emotions for many. Many approach a heart shaped box of chocolates with a glimmer in their eye, knowing exactly who they want to share it with. Others approach and purchase the same box of chocolates, not to share, but to wallow in what they don't have that society tells them they should. Either way, the chocolates are bought, and commercialism continues.

This commercial view of love seems to have two sides. Either you have it or you don't. You have found it, or you are looking for it. You either have that warm fuzzy feeling in your heart or a cold, half-eaten pint of ice cream sitting in your lap.

The majority seems to embrace this view and takes Valentine's Day as an opportunity to either showcase what they have or complain about what they don't.

Is Valentine's day bad? No. I'll be honest. I embrace and love any opportunity to bake a batch of sugar cookies and slip a few cards in the mail. However, I'm not so sure we are celebrating and embracing what love really is.

A recent Hallmark commercial caught my eye. It said, "Life's moments are meant to be shared." I think the same thing can be said for love. It's meant to be shared. Being made in the image of our Creator, we all have the ability and capacity to love and be loved.

Love doesn't have to be  reduced to the presence or absence of a romantic relationship. Love encompasses so much more than that. Share a smile. Share a listening ear. Share your time. Whatever you have to give. Share love.

Whether we choose to recognize it or not, each one of us is loved by our Creator infinitely more than we could ever imagine. He loves us so much that he made the ultimate sacrifice so we could live.

And how do we choose to live that life we have been given? Do we complain, ask for more, and live in search of what we fear we are missing? Or do we embrace and recognize the love that is so freely given to us daily so much so that gratitude overflows into sharing this same love with others. Love is real. It's in your life, even if you don't see it. Love is not something that can't be defined through society's terms. Love is more than just a day on a calendar or weeks on a shelf.

Love is happening. Are you taking part in it or are you reducing its value to a box of mismatched chocolates on a disheveled super-center shelf?

Next week, as Thursday approaches, between all the conversation hearts, mylar baloons, and construction paper hearts, take the time to say thanks for the love in your life, love that can't be bought, the kind of love that comes from sharing the life that has been given to us as a gift. The love God has given to us and calls us to share is eternal, outliving any holiday shelf life. A friend in college once said to me, "Life is about loving people." I think she was on to something.

 Live your life. Love. It's happening. Recognize what's already there. Go out there, and be a part of it.