My Reaction To The Shaycarl Scandal

my reaction to the shaycarl scandal

We’ve loved watching the Youtube Channel, The Shaytards. Anyone who’s watched this show can see this is a family tied together by love. They’ve gone through tough times before in different ways. Have Shay’s actions hurt his family? If what is being said is true, they definitely have. I feel grief for Katilette (Colette) and the kids and they deserve our love and support. This isn’t the first time Shay has talked about his struggles though—Shay has come out a few times in the past about his battles with alcoholism, and the latest is creating some ripples in his fans and critics alike. Nothing you’ve done is enough to separate you from God’s love. Shay and family, my thoughts and prayers are with you.

This is my reaction.

Grace invites you home again.

And love picks you up.

Grace says it’s not finished yet.

Love washes the dirt from your face.

Love says it will be ok.


Even if the path you’ve taken

Has taken you far from God.

Grace invites you home again.

And love helps you to your feet.


Grace says, “Jesus paid it all.”

Love says, “All to Him I owe.”

The world says you let everyone down.

The world says you’ve gone too far this time.

The world picks you up to throw you down again.

The world hovers around your pain,

Curious, delighted, aghast.


But Grace invites you home.

Love helps you to your feet again.


5 Favorite Excerpts from 5 Favorite Books


“But she had the German penchant for telling people off, and she died alone at 81, having scolded away all her friends.”

Because I am of Austrian/German heritage, I never forgot these words I read in William Zinsser’s book, On Writing Well.

“The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” —Frederick Buechner.

I also never forgot this quote about vocation, from A Sacred Journey.

“And he sang to them, now in the elven-tongue, now in the speech of the West, until their hearts, wounded with sweet words, overflowed, and their joy was like swords, and they passed in thought out to regions where pain and delight flow together and tears are the very wine of blessedness.”—J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King

Pain and delight flowing together. This reminds me a little of C.S. Lewis and his great northern feeling, a desire that was better than joy.

“Before I knew what I desired, the desire itself was gone, the whole glimpse… withdrawn, the world turned commonplace again, or only stirred by a longing for the longing that had just ceased… In a sense the central story of my life is about nothing else… The quality common to the three experiences… is that of an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction. I call it Joy.”—C.S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy

Yes, at a very early age, C.S. Lewis taught me that I was not the only one who preferred longings to the having of anything. He was the first person who let me label them “joy.”

“Do not be deceived, Wormwood. Our cause is never more in danger than when a human, no longer desiring, but still intending, to do our Enemy’s will, looks round upon a universe from which every trace of Him seems to have vanished, and asks why he has been forsaken, and still obeys.”—C.S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters

This reminds me of the voyage Puddleglum took with the children in The Silver Chair, where they were in darkness so long they forgot what the sun was like, and yet Puddleglum, the hero, held on to his memories, however distant, and stood by Aslan.

It was beautiful words like this by Lewis that shaped my faith in my early years.

What are your favorite quotes, books and authors?

Maybe You’re Supposed To Do This: Finding Your Way One Step at a Time

vocation, calling, life lessons

That dream that keeps coming to your heart again and again. The one that’s never gone away, no matter what else you do. The one that you think of when you say, yeah, someday, when the time is right. When I have the right time, or the right tools, or after I finish this project, or when the right people are in my life.

But maybe you’re supposed to do that now.

Maybe if you picked up the pen, the brush, the keyboard, the yoga mat, the pixels, the binary code, the camera, the piano keys (ok so I don’t you don’t pick up pixels or piano keys, but you know what I mean), maybe you would feel a rush of gladness in your heart.

Maybe that gladness echoes the gladness of the One who created you.

Maybe He would look at you and say, yeah! She’s starting to get it. He’s doing it. He’s taking those first adorable, stumbling steps towards his calling.

Speaking of first steps. I just had a vision that changed the way I’ve been thinking of all of this.

I’ve been something close to a panic about finding the right voice, the right online presence, the right Instagram feed. Blogging and writing about the “right” things.

But as I wrote that sentence above, I saw my daughter at 13 months, taking little steps between her Daddy and I, giggling with the adrenalin rush. And I teared up a bit.

Because those first steps that day in the months following were so precious to me. And she didn’t agonize over them, and I didn’t judge her. I didn’t say, crikey, Anneka, you really are wretched at walking.

She would giggle with joy and I would laugh cry with joy.

What if we could view our first steps, and the middle ones, too, that way?

What if instead of feeling like we would never be the person we are meant to be if we don’t figure this all out right now, we laugh at the privilege of trying and living?

What if we laugh with joy over little victories and tiny steps forward.

What if we take ourselves less seriously, like Anneka, but at the same time get up every time we fall with the same persistent determination?

What if we, um, actually realize that God delights in us?

Not to mention delights in the gifts He’s given us.

So back to calling, and vocation, and all that. What if those things that give you a rush of gladness, that make you tear up with those “someday-id-love-to” thoughts, are what you’re supposed to do?

Take out of this the Disney idea of making it big that every 80’s child and beyond has grown up with.

Let’s get out of our heads that we are either the center of the universe or nothing at all.

We are valuable. Cherished. Gifted.


We are created for a purpose.

I know. That’s so cliche, right?

And while I know that much of that purpose is serving others, His message is very clear that there are many different ways of serving others, many different callings.

So what if that deep gladness is also the world’s deep hunger?

And also what He imagined when He formed you before you were born.

In other words,

Maybe you’re supposed to do this.

You’ll Have to Quiet a Lot of Voices


You’ll have to say no.

No to the third-best thing you could be doing.

Or the second-best thing you could be doing.

Even to what you “should” be doing.

Not should in the immediate, practical sense. Responsibility is part of being a grown-up that others can love, share life with, and depend on.

But no to that life you think you should live. To that particular skillset that others have told you you’re good at, but that doesn’t do anything for your circulation.

The thing that doesn’t do anything for your wings.

I’m not saying you should quit your job. You might even stay at your job for the rest of your life.

I’m not saying you should neglect your family.

But every day, there should be those hours, or at least minutes, where you soar.

You’ll have to quiet voices that say you can’t.

You’ll have to say no to a lot of good opportunities.

You’ll have to quiet the second– and third– and fourth– best things you could be doing.

To focus on that one thing you should be doing first.

You’ll have to sacrifice. You’ll have to be disciplined. You’ll have to get up early, or stay up late. Or say no to lunch with the gang. Or to an hour of mindless browsing on Facebook.

The soaring never comes to a baby bird just leaving the nest. It comes after hours of flight practice.

Soaring never comes from competing with others. When you run, you should run against yourself, testing your limits, knowing who you are.

Soaring comes from saying no and quieting voices, so you can yes to the one thing you need to do.

Saying no is hard.

It makes you feel guilty. It makes you feel like a disappointment.

But how tragic to be say yes to everything but your calling.

How tragic to come to the end of life and be a disappointment to yourself.

Look in the mirror and say you will do it. You will take one tiny step today towards freedom. Not freedom from a job or repsonsibility. But freedom that Frederick Buechner talks about when he says —

“Your calling is where the world’s deep hunger and your deep gladness meet.”

That kind of freedom.

God May Be Younger Than We Are


Our children show us what the world could be like.

Our children are the ever second chance of the human race.

They are the sign that “God may be younger than we are.” He may say, “let’s have another sunrise.” (G.K. Chesterton). He is not wearied by the world’s problems the way we are, groaning under the weight of our stupidity and hate.

He smiles out of the face of innocent, happy children saying, “Don’t you see? Aren’t you listening? This is how you must become to inherit the kingdom of heaven. This is how I made humans.”

I am always in awe of my daughter’s complete lack of awareness of the world’s problems. Her pure joy in the simple love between her and another human being (me, or her Daddy, or another friend she loves). Her laughter and dancing when she hears Irish Fiddling. The smile that looks too big for her face, completely disarming to every stranger that walks by.

Her warm reaching out and touching a little girl in a wheelchair, or giving a hug to a child who is shy and doesn’t reach out for words or hugs.

I sometimes get cranky, because I know better than she does, and Anneka reacts in various attempts to cheer me up. They always work and I hug her, feel like crying, and tell her that she’s my sunshine.

When Anneka is cranky it’s because she’s hungry or tired. Or momentarily because she doesn’t get what she wants, but if the adults around her are joyful, she gets over it quickly.

I look into her face—that little face radiating joy and love—and I see the face of God.

Another Giver, Another Loser, Another Song-Maker


Tell your story.

However insignificant it seems.

Maybe it will help someone else.
Another Mom. Another business–owner. Another God–follower.
Another truth seeker. Another lost soul.
Another giver. Another loser. Another song–maker.

Another down–hearted angel.
Another self–doubting warrior.
Another faithless old vagrant.
Another faith–filled child.

Maybe your voice will call
To the other side of the wall
And show someone the way out.
Maybe it will be —

A chain–breaker.

Today I Stopped Saying “Would Have, Could Have, Should Have”


Someone I was planning on connecting with to do a small contract job for Wanna Pixel messaged me that they got a government job and they were being flown somewhere by said government.

My first instinct was to get a knot in my stomach. A knot of regret. I started messaging my business partner, Nate, to say, “we should have nabbed her when we could.”

Then I stopped.

Should have.

Could have.

Would have.

Cue famous quote: “Of all the sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these. It might have been.”—John Greenleaf Whittier

Is there any more spoken combination of words by humans than “should have.” Or even “would have?”

Or…could have.

If only I hadn’t gotten distracted checking out the other applications and doing my due diligence. I would have given her an offer.


If only a certain person hadn’t delayed me. We should have given her an offer.


If only the dumb government hadn’t stepped in with their big offer and fancy plane. I could have given her an offer.

But I didn’t.

Then, before I finished my woe-is-me slack message to my business partner, I had another thought.

What if it was supposed to be this way?

After all, I had reason to decide to check out all the candidates and interview at least three. It seemed like a prudent thing to do. In the back of my mind, I had my eye on this one, but God (or the universe, if you don’t believe in God’s hand in our lives) apparently had other plans.

Do I really want to keep aspiring young talent from being flown by the government to her exciting next job?

No. I had to admit. I didn’t.

I was glad for her.

She was getting the opportunity of a lifetime.

She was growing.

She was probably going to double or triple or rates in the next few months, as other talent I had seen who grew out of small business.

She was probably going to be able to say forever after that, “I did 3 years of work for the government on this exciting media job and they flew me all over the United States.”

I couldn’t offer her that. I just ran a small business. We couldn’t offer her the connections that her next job would probably offer her. Our travel plans are probably not as exciting as getting to say “the government flew me to Washington….”

Also, our job was a very small amount of hours, while this was a full time gig for the professional.

So I stopped in my tracks. I stopped feeling sorry for myself and I entertained the thought that, just maybe, this was the way it was supposed to happen.

For her, for us. For everyone whose life would be affected by the event.

I stopped saying “should have, could have, would have.”