faith

Keep Learning, Keep Serving

February 16, 2016 by Edie Wadsworth 2 Comments

Some people in my life think I made the dumbest possible decision when I left my family practice career. How do I know that? Well, they told me. You went through all that schooling? Took all those tests? Gave up your twenties? Lost so much sleep? Went into debt? All to get a degree that you don’t even use now? Not to mention the income loss.

Yep. All true. Guilty as charged on all counts.

But if I hadn’t had the courage to take a leap of faith (and a huge loss of income) and walk through some really dark days, I wouldn’t have discovered the ways that I am most able to serve the people in my life.

There were clues to it all along. I noticed that if someone came into my office wrestling with deep emotional issues or spiritual unrest, my heart beat a little faster and I knew I had something unique to offer them that they probably wouldn’t get from just any family doctor. Treating high blood pressure usually didn’t evoke the same response.

I wanted to speak into people’s life with my words more than my prescription pad.

And it shouldn’t have surprise me because I had always had a love affair with words— from the little red journal I carried around as a older child to the very bad poetry I wrote as a teenager. (I’m sincerely sorry to everyone who was a victim of my poetic injustice.)

Over the years, my best offerings have come from my struggle & vulnerability. But learning to hone in on what part of my life and message really resonates with those I want to serve isn’t nearly as easy as it seems.

I’ve been writing online for 8 years and I’m STILL learning how best I can add value to people who wander upon my site.

And much to my family’s benefit, I’m finally making a living at it.

Instead of using that income to increase our standard of living, we are using it invest in education—for our kids, for ourselves, and for those who we can bless.

These days a portion of the income I make as an entrepenuer is reinvested into my own education. So I can be a better mom, wife, friend, writer, creative, blogger, wellness teacher, etc. I keep learning so that I can increase my impact in my own house, and in my little circle of the world.

It’s an investment that is so worth making. I keep learning better ways to provide value for the people in my life.

So did I waste those thirteen years that I was training to become a doctor?

Not at all. If medical school taught me anything, it taught me that there’s so much I don’t know. It taught me the value of learning. And there’s a certain humility that comes with admitting that we still need to keep growing, that we don’t know it all, that we don’t have the right skills, that we need to be always and forever students of this great big wonderful thing called life.

Which brings me to my current job/calling/vocation as a blogger and wellness enthusiast. When I started out my journey as a creative entrepeneur, I had no idea what I was doing. I had no idea what to write about or what my particular gifts were. I just knew I had a message and I wanted to share it.

Enter my dear friend Ruth.

She has a brilliant logical mind and her skill set is so different than my own. We became friends and mentors to each other. As she was building her own skills and business, she helped me find clarity in my own, sifting through ALL THE THINGS that I love and am interested in to find the pieces of gold—those few unique things that I am good at that other people can benefit from if I share them.

And that’s the sweet spot—the things that you uniquely offer that the world needs.

Last year, I took a few modules of her online course for writers/bloggers and it was phenomenal. I decided not to purchase the full course because I was writing a book and was already taking a writing course. But this year, I’m signing up to do the whole thing.

A blogger who’s been blogging for eight years needs to learn more? Absolutely.

Because after finishing a book and dipping my toes back into the online writing space, I need some guidance. I want to offer the most value I can and still have time to do all the things at home I want to do. That’s not an easy balance to strike. And it can all be so overwhelming.

I’ve spent enough time with her to know that her insight and unique way of breaking down complicated processes into simple understandable steps is so very valuable. Every tip she’s ever given me for blogging has been golden.

Maybe you have a message you want to share too. Her teaching will save you so much time and heartache and will be the shortest route to finding your own clarity, your own sweet spot. And you will learn the secrets to start making an income from home. She’s brilliant at walking you step by step.

Here’s how you will know if it’s right for you too?

Take her free video course and she’ll tell you. The first email will be sent today and then you’ll get the others in the next few days. If you decide to take the full course after that, I’ll see you the inside!

Daddy’s Funeral & My Inheritance

February 14, 2016 by Edie Wadsworth 21 Comments

wVlfnlTbRtK8eGvbnBZI_VolkanOlmez_005

From my Lenten study which you can download for free. Don’t worry that you’re a few days behind, you can work through it at your own pace. I pray you will be blessed these 40 days.

Click Here to Download

Day 4: Give Me What Is Coming to Me
Texts: Psalm 12:1-6, Gen. 3:1-24, Mark 2:1-17 {Luke 15: 11-12}

“And Jesus said, “There was a man who had two sons. And the younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give the the share of the property that is coming to me.’ And he divided his property between them.”

My sister and I split the cost of my Daddy’s funeral.

I was 27 years old with two kids in my 3rd year of medical school when he died. I was on my psychiatry rotation and was beginning to wonder what it would be like when I finally went crazy. (That’s a chapter in my memoir, for what it’s worth.)
Not only was there no inheritance to be had, there was no life insurance either. Right before he got lung cancer and liver failure, we took out an insurance policy on him and kept it for years. Lean financial times, our growing families, and my medical school expenses made it easy to let it lapse. He died the next year and in the midst of the worst heartsickness I ever remember experiencing, we had to deal with the stress of paying for his funeral. Those were dark days—days when you wish you had a father to guide you through the fog.

The commentaries I’ve read on the prodigal son agree that the father in the story of the prodigal son was set to leave quite an inheritance to his sons. He had servants and land and animals, though how much of those things we aren’t told.

But the boys didn’t seem that interested in a relationship with their dad, as much as they wanted what his wealth and status could offer them. In fact, when the younger son asks for his inheritance while his father is alive, he is basically wishing his father dead.
In the Old Testament story for today, Eve is the same way. She grasps for something of her own, some secret wisdom or knowledge that could be gained apart from God, as if He were trying to keep something good from her. It destroyed everything and tore at the fabric of the way God made the world—a world in which He gives us all we need and we receive His gifts in thankfulness.
But we don’t do that, do we. At least I don’t.

I think I know better what I need than He does, so I strive and grasp and want and long. For a better everything. A better life, a nicer house, a richer marriage, a shinier car, a bigger bank account, more influence, and on and on until the sick cycle of my wanting becomes an addiction to everything I don’t need. This life He gave me, the one I actually live in, never seems like enough.

25085504_xl

So I set out, just like the prodigal son and just like Eve. In search of something to call my own. It probably plays out the same in your life, too. We haven’t so much broken our Father’s commandments as we’ve broken His heart.*
All He ever wanted was to give us everything.
In the Gospel lesson, as always, Jesus rescues us, reminding us that only those who are sick need a physician—those who are sick in their sin and despair, those who are sick in their pride and self-sufficiency, those for whom enough is never enough.
So we’re in good company when we find ourselves barred from Eden, in the far country of the pig pen, sifting through the broken parts of everything we’ve snatched for ourselves. Jesus came to open back the gates to heaven, to restore us to Eden, to find us wallowing in our own selfish mire and bring us back home to our Father.

And there, He will make the lame walk and the blind see. He will set about with a feast for us prodigals like you’ve never seen. He will finally gift us with our full inheritance, and we will weep to know that the *gift* he always wanted to give us was Himself.

Click Here to Download

If you know anyone who would benefit from this study of God’s love, share this post!

I will also be reading through Grace Upon Grace during Lent and discussing it once a week on Pericope. This book is AMAZING.

The One Reason We Need Lent This Year {and a Free 40 Day Devotional}

February 9, 2016 by Edie Wadsworth 27 Comments

wintercollage

I spent most of the last year writing my memoir, much of which dealt with the complicated relationship I had with my Daddy. The loss and pain of it drove me into the scriptures, looking for comfort, looking for answers, looking for fathers.

I landed on the story of the Prodigal Son, or maybe I should say it landed in me.

I spent months in that story, reading books and commentary, and in general, trying to figure out what Jesus was telling us about Himself in that story, about what kind of Father we have in God.

We need Lent because we have forgotten. We need Lent because we are lost. Our doubt about the Father’s love, our besetting sins and our own piercing self-righteousness have blinded us to what we were made to do and who we were made to do it for.

Lent is a time for remembering what kind of a Father we really have and to what lengths He will go to find us and rescue us. Lent is a time to retreat with Him, to confess to Him how utterly dependent we’ve become on everything but Him. Lent is a time to remember what it means to be truly loved, to be held up from the fray of the world’s chaos, to be carried home by our Abba Father.

Lent is about our repentance, yes. But more importantly, Lent is about His forgiveness.

We walk with Him to the cross so we will KNOW beyond a shadow of a doubt that this sacrifice was FOR US. God forgives us, not because of our growing discipline or holiness, but for the sake of Christ, alone. Want to give up sugar? Fine. Want to fast on Fridays? Perfect. Our bodies and our resources need to be brought into submission so that we can use them to serve our neighbor, not ourselves.

But remember, Lent is about Him and how He has set his face like a flint to go to Jerusalem to die for the sins of all mankind. We need Lent because we so desperately need Him.

He alone is our homecoming, standing “far off” waiting and watching everyday for His beloved to return.

In case the observance of Lent is brand new to you, this post might be helpful.

*I’ll be using the texts from the PrayNow app for the Lenten season along with the story of the Prodigal Son. I’m so thankful to have you here and pray you will be blessed by this time together.

Blessed Ash Wednesday to you.

For the free pdf of my Lenten study, click the link below!

(If you’ve already subscribed to my blog, it will tell you that you are already subscribed but then it will send you a copy of the study! If you are not yet subscribed, you will be sent a confirmation email and then once you confirm your email address, you will be sent the study. Comment below if you have trouble.)

cominghomefree

Click Here to Download

If you know anyone who would benefit from this study of God’s love, share this post!

I will also be reading through Grace Upon Grace during Lent and discussing it once a week on Pericope. This book is AMAZING.

The Power of How You Were Made

January 20, 2016 by Edie Wadsworth 36 Comments

4729339_l

When I was 33 years old, I went to a week long medical conference in Hickory, North Carolina as part of my training to pass my Family Medicine Board exam. Thankfully, I passed that year, thanks to the VERY BORING training and months of hours of study I did while nursing a baby and taking care of a toddler and two school agers. Those were good times.

The first day of the conference, I walked into the room and it was a sea of gray and navy and black suits with slim briefcases and those fancy pens with the nibs. 80% or more were men and there was a very serious vibe hovering over the room.

I walked in like Elle Woods walking into Harvard Law, minus the dog and the expensive suit, my papers spilling over from my colorful tote which was holding my 10 tubes of lip gloss and scads of colored pencils and pens and highlighters and Sharpies. Wearing a summer dress and wedges and a denim jacket. I did not look like any of the other physicians there. NONE of them.

I sat down by a very respectable doctor and his very respectable and tidy leather binder with a steno pad in it. Pulling out my inspirational notebooks and my plethora of colorful writing utensils, he probably wished I’d sat somewhere else, except that by the end of the day, we were chums and I knew EVERYTHING possible to know about him—his wife’s name, how many kids he had, where he had trained, where he was practicing, what struggles he was facing in his town, and many more details.

Right away, I could tell he was shy and genuine and trustworthy and despite the fact that the two of us were NOTHING alike, I think we’d both say we were glad our paths crossed.

At first glance around that huge conference room, I felt self-conscious of who I was, maybe ashamed. I had thoughts like: I should be more serious, I should buy a suit, I should wear more navy and black, I should stop wearing so much make-up, I need a leather binder, I should stop using colored markers, I should, I should, I should.

Later when I set up my own family practice office, I did it like no one else I’ve known. The rooms were repainted and decorated. I bought lamps and artwork for the exam rooms and games and puzzles for the kids and I did it because that’s what came naturally to me.

I wasn’t trying to be a rebel. I just wanted to be a doctor like I would naturally be a doctor.

I couldn’t change how I was created, I could only make myself more of who I already was, focusing on what made me unique, what made me me.

It taught me something valuable about life. I’m never going to the best or the smartest at what I do but I’m the only person who can do what I do in the way I do it—whether that’s cooking dinner or blogging or writing a book or folding a load of laundry.

Not to say that we shouldn’t keep growing and learning because we absolutely need to improve our skills at life—things that make us better wives and moms and creatives and leaders. I spend a lot of time and money trying to do that.

BUT. My shoulds look different than they looked when I was just wanting to fit it. You know them well, they’re the shoulds that tell us we should change who we are to be more like whoever else we’re idolizing at the moment. My shoulds now look like: I should learn better people skills, I should take a course on business for moms, I should learn how to quilt, I should take a nutrition course, I should take a course on finances, I should read that book on parenting, and so on and so forth to infinity.

We all need better skills.

But we need you to be you.

And we need you to keep learning so that you can serve the world with the best version of who you were created to be.

And that’s what you need from me too.

When I put away my fears at that conference and let my real true self shine, I focused on the doctor sitting next to me and honored him, instead of spending the whole conference focusing on myself, trying to figure out how to fit in with a sea of black suits, I did what I do best—used my passion for people to show interest and honor to him. I would never have done that if I wanted to act like everyone else in the room.

And trust me, sometimes I still try to hide who I am. I’m still learning.

But what is different about you and me is what makes us special, not what is the same.

Use your uniqueness to honor and serve others with more passion!

****

One of the things I study to get better at being myself and at honoring others is through personality study. I’d love to know what personality tests you’ve taken and what your results were.

I’m a Blue with yellow and red qualities and ZERO green qualities. My faults are all Blue.

(I’m making the girls take Marc Accetta’s color personality test as we speak.)

I’m an ENFP on the Myers-Briggs but I’m probably actually an extroverted intr0vert because I need a LOT of downtime.

I’m an Enneagram type 4.

I’d love to know yours!!

The Year of the Lord’s Favor

January 4, 2016 by Edie Wadsworth 21 Comments

FullSizeRender 3

Last year, on the front page of my journal/notebook/scratchpad, I wrote out the first part of Isaiah 61. That wonderful passage of scripture is always the old testament reading for January 1st on the PrayNow app, which I adore. It’s also one of my favorite all time passage of scripture and so with it written on page 1 of my notebook, I read it most days and thought about it and mulled over it and tried to superimpose my life over it.

Jesus was handed the scroll of the Prophet Isaiah at the synagogue in Nazareth when he spoke these astonishing words:

“The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; to grant to those who mourn in Zion— to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit; that they may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that he may be glorified. They shall build up the ancient ruins; they shall raise up the former devastations; they shall repair the ruined cities, the devastations of many generations.”

These are the words that Christ spoke about Himself. He is the One who brings good news, and binds up the brokenhearted and opens the prison. He comfort those who mourn. He raises up the ruined cities. Because of His overwhelming love for us, we live in the year of the Lord’s favor, the jubilee year, the year that debts are canceled and slaves are set free.

I want that freedom. That’s why the first few days of the year has always been my very favorite. A new year, a fresh start, a slew of resolutions, and goals—it’s the perfect storm for holing up in my bed for a few hours with warm socks and warm coffee and an oversized sweater and planning for THE BEST YEAR EVER. That’s what I tell myself every. single. time.

This year was different. My uncle died late New Year’s Eve so we spent the first few days of the new year on Brown Mountain, eating ham, soup beans, cornbread and too much mocha cake, sharing stories and stale pots of coffee for too many hours to count.

Our little buddy was with us too.

All that to say, I didn’t finish my book yet and I didn’t finish writing out all my goals. I don’t even have a word yet for 2016 like all the cool people do.

To top it all off, the combination of crying and laughing in equal parts with equal vigor for the last few days left me puffy eyed and exhausted this morning—the day I was hoping would lead all the others days to goal reaching nirvana.

So, I’m raising my glass (of rewarmed for the third time coffee) to choosing people first over goals and projects and really everything else. I hope I to cultivate more of that kind of courage in my to do list.

My botched up plan is this: post Isaiah 61 everywhere I spend my time so that it informs and inspires the rest of my goals. Sugar detox? Sure, but why? So that I have more energy to help pry open some prison bars.

Pray on my knees everyday? Yes, but why? So that He will give me new eyes my to see the brokenhearted.

Increase my income? Yes, so that I can bring good news to the poor.

Launch a book? I sure hope so. Because I pray He uses me to comfort those who have mourned this messy thing we call life.

It’ll probably be the end of January before I get all my plans in order but I sure hope that the God of all grace continues to give me a voice to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.

We are free. Not because of what we can gin up in ourselves on the coat tails of a resolution high, but because He has set us free.

And because of that freedom, we set our sights on them—the precious ones He is putting right in the way of all our tasks and hopes and dreams. They are not an interruption to our best life ever.

They have been sent to raise up the former devastations of our self obsession.

They are messengers from Him.

I hope we are brave enough to listen.

The Year I Broke Up With Blogging

December 30, 2015 by Edie Wadsworth 54 Comments

FullSizeRender

Well, you might be happy to know that I’m within days of turning my manuscript in for the third time. Which means, showering is very low on the list right now. And so is cooking and leaving my house and in general, anything that involves not typing on my computer. Please pray for my general sanity and perseverance and for the health and wellbeing of my family, who are largely surviving on chips and salsa and grilled cheeses. I’m probably headed to my mountain cabin alone this weekend for a marathon session, in an effort to finish by Monday, my 46th birthday.

But I’m really proud of ALL the changes we’ve made in the book. They’ve all been made for you actually, designed on purpose so you will (hopefully) enjoy the book and not get lost in my sometimes very meandering way of telling a story. My editor said to me AT LEAST forty times: “I can appreciate the idea of using flashback here, but I think this chapter will work better if you put it in order.” And yet, the next chapter?!?!? I thought it would work SO MUCH better in flashback. (Another face palm for my editor)

I think I’ve decided flashback is the protective mechanism I use so as not to fully relive the story I’m trying to tell.

To help me even more to understand why the process has been so grueling and taken so long, my editor actually told me to write a letter to my reader explaining what has been going on with me and this book for the past two years. Here’s what I wrote:

Dear kind reader,

This is the story I never wanted to tell. This is the story I’ve been trying to run from for forty years and the story I’ve been skirting around for nearly three. Though a writer for many years, the words in this volume are all raw and fresh and hard fought. I wanted to tell you everything but so many times I told you everything but the truth. So I started again. And again. And again. I tried to write it with fancy literary devices because I figured then you’d think I was really smart. I tried to hide behind the writing of all my heroes with a plethora of the most beautiful quotes on earth and then I tried hiding behind my family members, undoubtedly the funniest and quirkiest people on earth.

I tried to make it a story about theology and then tables and then prodigals and then I wanted it to be a story about fire. What I didn’t want to write about was the thing that scares me to death. What I didn’t want you to know was that fatherlessness is my deepest ache—and being untethered and unspoken for my suffocating fear. And now that I’ve said it and can’t take it back, I will attempt to tell the story that has wrecked me for far too long. My prayer is that in the telling there’ll be healing, perhaps for both of us.

The process took its toll on me—physically, spiritually, and especially emotionally. The healing has been slow to come but I know I’m getting there.

The book editing/writing/overhauling combined with my newly revived love and passion for wellness and essential oils has left precious little time for this little corner of the world. And I’ve missed it so much. My teaching schedule and my new friendships that have blossomed this year have been so wonderful and so worth the accidental sabbatical I’ve taken from blogging, but with the book deadline approaching, ALL I can think about are all the things I’ve been meaning to tell you over the past year. Things like what I’m cooking and what I’m reading, my current uniform and how I’m dealing with my teenagers leaving their childhood room and moving to the basement. And also how I’m dealing with being alone at home after all those years of homeschooling and what my big reVOLution plans are for 2016.

I can’t wait to dive back in with you.

As I’m setting new goals for the year and making my schedules, I’d love to know what you want.

How can I best serve you here? I’m all ears!

Sending you all my love,

xoxo,

edie