You are not a Brand, You are a Person.

Today, as soon as I woke up, I read a tweet that made me feel weird.

Today: @amyjomartin answers your questions about helping kids build positive personal brands! trib.al/Ymb3NVG#creativeconversations

— Fast Company (@FastCompany) May 24, 2013

Now granted, this tweet was to promote a media event (this afternoon) about how to help kids navigate the digital world, and probably, how not to screw up their real reputations with digital dumbassery. And that's an incredibly important conversation to have with parents and children, too. But coaching our children to navigate this new terrain by creating "personal brands?" That rubbed me wrong.

The idea of personal branding always makes me uncomfortable. All over the place I am being told to do it. Build your tribe, find your platform, build your influence. Be bigger. Stronger. All of it. It's exhausting.

Half of my time is spent fighting (and the other half is spent accepting) this very concept. I don't want to be a brand, but to be successful I feel like I have to be one anyway. I don't want to be "left behind" in the "race" to nowhere, so I market and wink and try to be in the right places that make me look like I'm doing something right. It's disingenuous. It's fake. It's marketing myself. It's selling myself. It's commercializing my identity. And now we're telling our children to do it too?

I don't have children. But I just came home from spending a week with three of the sweetest children I've met on the planet. And if I want to tell them anything, I'd want to tell them this.

You are not a brand, you are a person.

After all this went through my head, I sat down to read Psalm 33 - 37, it was like over and over again, that same sentence was reinforced with God's word. Here are some things I learned:

1. Pursue peace not prosperity. When I wake up in the morning and think about what I can do to bring in money or status or stature—that is the kind of thinking that can spoil my joy for others when things go well for them. It's that kind of thinking that breeds hostility, not peace.  Seek peace and pursue it (Psalm 34:14) because a future awaits those who seek peace (Psalm 37:37). That's who I want to be. I'm not a brand. I'm a person who seeks peace.
2. A brand is a vain hope for deliverance; despite all its strength it cannot save (Psalm 33:17). If you've watched coverage of Hurricane Sandy, Sandy Hook, the Oklahoma tornadoes, or any other disaster that's ravaged our country lately—you know that nothing is permanent. In the day of total disaster, what good will it be to have a large digital footprint? It's LAUGHABLE to even write those words. And it's sad that that is where my mind spends so much of its time. While our plans (and houses and lives) might end, the plans of the Lord stand firm forever (Psalm 33:11). I'm not a brand. I'm a person who fears the Lord.  
3. If I flatter myself too much, I will not be able to detect or hate my own sin (Psalm 36:2). Spending too much time in the mirror actually makes it harder too see ourselves as we truly are. Spending too much time building our own kingdoms and brands and identities is a waste, if it hinders us from understanding our souls. I'm not a brand. I'm a person who wants to be truly known.

I don't know why this hit me so hard this morning, or why I felt the need to share it, but I did. People. We are not brands. We are people. 

From Have-to to Get-to

The other day, I noticed something about how I was talking.

I was on a walk with a friend on the Greenway, and realized that nearly every time I opened my mouth, I was saying something about how I (or we) have to ... fill in the blank.

I have to go pick up my dry cleaning. We have to go to dinner with the Miller's tomorrow. I have to go to New York this week. We have to get together and do this again soon. We just have to.

What an innocent little guilty verb. After a little time passed, I stopped myself and said, "Let me rephrase that. I get to go to New York this week. I get to go pick up my dry cleaning today.... I get to finish three deadlines this afternoon."

But from have-to to get-to is no small distance—when it comes to the heart.

I first made the jump from have-to to get-to when it came to giving. In January, I was doing a whole lotta writing for a non-profit called I Like Giving, to help them compile some first-person stories for a book. (It's coming out this fall, so stay tuned for that!) Day after day, I was assigned to talk on the phone with men and women who were either the givers or receivers of some extraordinary generosity. People who had learned that they didn't HAVE TO give, they GET TO.

It was life changing. From that time, Patrick and I started keeping a little cash aside every month for "get to" giving. So when my sister suffered the tragic, groundshaking loss of her 17-week old baby Gabrielle while my mother was visiting Nashville, we had the money set aside to buy my mom a one-way ticket to New York. When a friend mentioned a specific piece of kitchen equipment she needed in order to follow her doctor's prescribed diet, we could actually buy it. Right there. On the spot. Mid conversation. The idea that we get to give revolutionized my perspective on generosity. It sounds like a no brainer. I wish it would have been.

But while I've learned to go from have-to to get-to in giving, I'm still working on in the other aspects of daily life. So... I get to do dishes, huh? Or... I get to make the bed? And how about when you get to re-write 4,000 words because you realize the first 4,000 were just rubbish. Really? Get to?

Yes. Get to.

It's radical.

Spotlight on: A Military Mom.

Did you know today is National Military Spouse Appreciation Day? Then of course... this Sunday is Mothers' Day.  Somehow these two holidays create a perfect intersection for the most influential women in my life: military moms.

Military moms move around the United States at a speed illegal on most major highways. One year here. Two years there— three if you're really lucky. The U.S. Army doesn't give much weight to 4th grade best friends or high school graduation years or your favorite OBGYN or your next door neighbor. They deal in Duty, Honor, Country... and orders.

My mother, Laura Sholar Carlton, the oldest daughter of a North Carolina family with its own military roots, handled the hustle with grace, humor and humility. She was a military spouse. A military mom. 27 years in th U.S. military, and believe you me, she earned her stripes. She defended and supported a man in uniform. She raised children, created a delicious nightly meals, provided countless hours of family therapy. It was no small calling.

And like so many other military moms, she prevailed. She taught the power of rearranging furniture to make a new house look like home. She proved that simmered onions and garlic make any new house smell like home. She consoled when I cried about leaving. She comforted, or more precisely, offered Ben & Jerry's ice cream when things got really bad. She insisted that tears are a gift, and that moving can feel like death, and that God can give new life in any new place—and He always, always did.

But more than that, God offered me the best kind of mom there is: a military mom.

love you mom. 

Chicken Check-In, Edition No. 2

I've been hiding something from you. From all of you. In the last couple of weeks, I've been holding closely to a little secret. And it's why I've been a little quiet.

I want this to be one of those "chicken check-in" moments where I tell you what I'm so afraid of. But here's the thing. I'm afraid to tell you what I'm afraid of. And that's the thing about fear. Once you let it inside, it multiplies.

Fear usually starts when you decide to do something you've never tried before. Some people call this "stepping out of your comfort zone." I call it Monday. Today I sat at my computer and tried to write the first chapter of what I hope will be my first book.

It's a book with an incredibly great premise. It's a book inspired by real people and true events—people who have approached me and are willing to share with me their insides. It's a book that could be great if in the hands of the right writer. But who am I to think that that person might be me?  And then again, who would I be if I didn't try?

I need you to know that this is happening for a few reasons.

1) I'm terrified, and if you're a praying person, I ask that you'd join me and pray for this new project.

2) I'm feeling kind of isolated. And need to know I'm not alone in trying new things and accepting that they might fail. Miserably. Greatly.

So there you have it. The secret's out.

It's DONE!

Over the last few weeks, I've received plenty of texts, e-mails and tweets asking: is it done?

Finally, I can say... YES! The kitchen is done!

But before I put up photos showing off (because yes, it is showing off) our new digs... I promised that we'd give friends an opportunity to see it in person. So if you're in Nashville, and you want to come see it, BYOA, and come over tonight!

**Yep, as weird as this is, I'm announcing our own open house via blog. Welcome to 2013.**