The Abolition of Man - Excerpts from an Interview

I love words and language and writing.
I even love letters; the shape and form...

After listening to this radio interview [below] a few days ago [which someone suggested to me], the information has been haunting my thoughts. It is so disturbing to me that we pass over the seriousness of what is happening before us and glaze it over – whether we recognize that this is what we are doing or not – with a nicer word, or a softer meaning. Or just the opposite – we infuse a word with meaning it does not hold, and infiltrate what should be innocently perceived with an implication of the polar extreme.
 
Many of the thoughts below have concerned my mind for years - this twisting of words and meanings. Now, the subject of abortion and homosexuality are addressed in this interview, and if you haven't already had a conversation [or read my thoughts] about these topics, I'm happy to talk about them with you if you'd like. If you have already, you know that my perspective and attitude is not one of condemnation. If you've had an abortion, I don't want you to think that I have written you off as "evil". However, we have to talk about the reality of what is being done. We manipulate definitions and meanings to comply with our purpose, and I say this gently - but with certain conviction – this manipulation of language is wrong, friends.

We use terms like "War on Women". I appreciate hyperbole, but let's clear things up a little, shall we? Who’s been in a war lately? Do you see masses of women being gunned down in America? No? Oh yeah. That’s because the war is not, in fact, on women. The war is on the innocent and helpless children we carry who are being brutally destroyed in alarming callousness and breathtaking numbers.

I feel as though I’m living in the tale of the Emperor’s New Clothes. We are all so afraid of possibly offending someone that we just nod and pretend not to see what is just so very clear. Please, someone…just call naked, ‘naked’.  It’s naked. Our arguments and our justifications are naked. There’s nothing there. We skirt around the issue, we call it something new, we re-direct the heat of the debate – but look me in the eye and tell me it’s okay to kill your baby. Listen to their heartbeat, watch their movement – see life begin and grow and form – and tell me that it is not life. All the other issues are secondary to the big issue. Is it naked or not? Are we destroying human lives? I’m not saying or even suggesting that there are no valid concerns and agonizingly difficult circumstances and situations that women are faced with – and I’m not minimizing these. But the real core question we have to answer is the question of life. Instead, we stare mute at the bare Emperor. Not only do we not call ‘naked’ what it is, we also allow ourselves to be stripped down, so as not to “appear ignorant”. I don’t say this to shame anyone, but to encourage us all to speak up. Be the little kid who questions, “Why is the Emperor naked?” To which the whole crowd gasps in half-sincere horror, “Did he say, ‘naked’?!”  

Where is the truth? Even the word “church” is misleading, I think. We don’t GO to church, Christian, we ARE the church. Entertaining “Christian” music is not “worship”.  And it is NOT a Bible study if you are studying Beth Moore. [It’s a Beth Moore study…just sayin’.]

Words like "tolerance", "hate", "bigotry" - are all so very often misused. Another word: "judge" ["judgment", "judging"...], is also spoken with blurred meaning. "Committed" and "commitment" have little value left, it seems. We are often in a "committed" relationship that we are unwilling to actually commit to.

Don’t get me started on “swear words”. Okay, actually, I have to say something here. It drives me crazy when I hear young girls call each other “bitch” or “whore”, in place of “friend”. And the term “pimp” should never be used to describe anything attractive or glamorous.

I digress. The point is: language is valuable. Words mean something. Not only should words be spoken thoughtfully, but truthfully.

Is it all just about spoken sound? It there really no deeper significance? As I consider all that is before us in this upcoming election, and the use of words that surround debates and campaigns and conversations, I cannot help but to think that there is, in fact, profound significance to language and definition. Let’s not be so brilliant in our “forward thinking” that we neglect, to a devastating fault, the wisdom of history behind us. Let’s not forget the past and so let it again become our future. Let’s not ignore the insight of a 76-year-old man who has witnessed brutality that most of us have absolutely no true concept of. Why? Because men and women dedicated their lives and blood to our freedom.

Let’s not forget what freedom means – it’s not the right to do whatever we want to. It is the right to be free – to think, to speak , to live, to enjoy our liberty. We seem to think it is the right to impose our freedom on others. We throw out phrases like, “It’s a free country!” like bratty, careless, self-absorbed adolescents, who have no respect for the reality of what that freedom cost, or even means. We’re like children who grow to learn no sense of material value or financial concern, because our parents have always provided for us and we were never taught to appreciate their generosity – only in regard to freedom, not finance.

Now I’m way off topic. Words mean something. They are significant. Here’s a few bits from that radio discussion…
______________________________________________________

The Abolition of Man
[Excerpts from a radio interview with Uwe Siemon-Netto, a former war correspondent for German newspapers, by Chris Rosebrough]

Chris Rosebrough:

You need to understand the fundamental problem that’s going on here…

Some people are going to just have, like, a conniption for me making this…drawing this connection; this parallel, but this parallel is historical and it’s factual.

It was the Nazis, it was the fascists who engaged in language deconstruction…who played all of these word games and they were taught how to do this…

And the Nazis employed it to diabolical ends; they were brilliant with language deconstruction.

We are literally having language stripped away from us and we don’t even perceive that that is what is happening. Words have meaning and they need to be discussed with those meanings attached to them - with all of the horrific consequences and logical conclusions that go with that language for very specific reasons, and when we lose language, we’re literally giving up the battlefield. You’re giving away the tools and the weapons that you need in order to fight for the truth when you give away language and meaning.

In the political discourse that’s been taking place in this country regarding particular issues, the words have been sanitized; the real issue is not being discussed because the language has been taken away from us.

You need to start wrapping your mind around what is really going on. We are on the fast track to a major catastrophe in civilization and we’re doing this to ourselves and what’s greasing the skids is our loss of language and the loss of being able to discuss things factually, correctly and truthfully using specific words that have particular meanings.

Uwe Siemon-Netto:

Let’s step back for a second. What is abortion? It is the willful destruction of human life. Life begins at conception. We know this: it’s scientifically true. We know that a new person grows in a mother’s womb…this person has a different DNA than the mother, it has all the information, all the genetic information – it’s a new person. I’m saying this is, of course, the equivalent of what has happened in Nazi Germany. Nazis didn’t start out killing Jews. They first of all killed handicapped people. The Nazis created a term, it’s: ‘life not worthy of living’. So, in other words, a human being – in this case, the Nazis: in the case of abortion, the mother, the doctors and the father, presumably – decide which life is worth living and which life is not.

We’re not talking theology. We’re talking fact here. This is historical.

The Nazis killed approximately 6 million Jews and then 500,000 gypsies in concentration camps in three, four years time. The United States alone, since Roe v. Wade, has killed 55 million people – children, innocent people, were killed. Why were they –are they – being killed? Because it wasn’t convenient – in more than 90% of all cases - it didn’t suit the parents to have a baby. It wasn’t convenient to carry out this pregnancy because obviously the child could have been brought up through adoption after birth, so therefore it’s not even an imposition on the mother other than she would have to carry out this pregnancy.

Okay, now let’s jump forward to this current campaign…

…we don’t call it abortion. We don’t call it what it is. But we call it a social issue! A social issue is when I go to a ball or a banquet whether I wear black tie or tails. That’s a social issue. It’s a social issue whether you affirm or deny affirmative action. These are social issues. Or how many weeks vacation you get. This [abortion] is not a social issue. This is an issue that pertains to none other than life and death and it is absolutely despicable that [political figures] talk about this as a “social issue”.

Chris:

Words are being redefined and euphemisms are being put forward when we’re discussing these important issues. They’re being trivialized in such a way that words don’t mean anything and it’s as if both sides have kind of bought-in to this post-modern way of manipulating language and words in such a way as to obfuscate real meaning…

Uwe:

All these horrible words that Americans have introduced to the English language…
The destruction of human life – we don’t call this ‘destruction of human life’, we don’t even call it abortion anymore. We call it: choice. What’s a choice? Do I, as a growing baby in my mother’s womb, have a choice of being born or being slaughtered – and in ways that are the equivalent of the tortures suffered by people in the middle ages?? Absolutely wrong!  It is killing. Why don’t we call it? It is horrifying.

Chris:

Calling abortion a ‘social issue’ – that utterly trivializes it. The way the word issue is kicked around, it just basically means, there’s something in your life that’s kinda making things…the results not exactly what you want it to be.  So now, abortion is an issue?! I mean, let me kinda put it starkly: no one discusses the holocaust as “an issue”.  And this, in the United States, - the systematic murdering of over 50 MILLION people is being discussed as, ‘an issue’.

Uwe:

And the ongoing murder of approximately 1.2 million people every year. …as an ‘issue’, which we can sideline for the sake of the economy. We are talking about a genocide here. Like those Germans, that I can remember after war, in their embarrassment over what happened, said, yeah, you know, it wasn’t very nice of Hitler to kill all those Jews, he was probably wrong doing it, BUT we have to remember he was good for the German economy or seemed good for the German economy… sidelining what really mattered: life.

That to me is frightening and I have very, very dark premonitions about where this is heading because, they’re not talking to their children about that… Truth has to be learned. We’re talking about ultimate truth. It’s true that I am 76 years old and living in California. That’s an ultimate truth. These truths have to be learned. Now, since schools don’t teach these truths anymore, since more and more parents no longer bring up their children in the truth and in telling the truth, we are in trouble. Now I must say…by saying ‘social issue’ they are already telling an untruth: it’s murder.

Chris:

I think this is exactly what C.S. Lewis was writing about in his book, The Abolition of Man, which was written in 1943. He literally starts off the book talking about the importance of teaching English in school and gave examples of how people wrongly using English literally will end up unraveling society and leading to the abolition of man or what he calls, “men without chests”. It’s not that nothing good comes from language deconstruction, but historically, the worst atrocities committed against humanity have been done by people who have, as a fundamental working in their way of thinking, the right to just willy-nilly change language in order to blunt, shunt, and push away the truth. We need to be aware of this. Changing the meaning of words in order to subvert the truth - that’s the trick of the devil.

Grace.

Grace.

It is my daughter's middle name.
It is what we call the prayer we say before a meal.
It is getting what we don't deserve.

It is unnatural to me.

When that one person who really deserves to be smacked upside the head is hurting - albeit over messes they have created for his/herself - and my response is compassion, that's unnatural. It's not my own "gracious" nature responding to that person. That is the Spirit of a loving God at work in my heart as I open my mouth to speak.

My mind says, "let 'em have it", and my words come out gentle...my heart sympathizes with the remorse and the guilt and the shame. Why? Because I too have fallen short of perfection. I have failed the people I love [and the people I should have loved better]. I have strayed from the path and walked on the proverbial lawn with that huge, prominently displayed "DO NOT WALK ON THE GRASS" sign right in front of me.

I have sinned.

We all have sinned, and don't measure up to the glory that God displays in His character.

Yet, while we were still living in our sin - disregarding the warnings, ignoring our consciences and choosing to do what made us feel good in the moment over what is right and honorable...even in that moment, whatever that moment is for each of us, He still loved us. He still loves you.

And He paid the ultimate price to prove it. The payment for sin is death. That's what our wrongdoing earns us. That's the punishment. He paid it for us. Jesus died in my place, so that I might live.

He loved me, He released me from the hopeless situation I was in, He forgave me. And He continues to show me kindness and patience and gentleness that I do not deserve. He pours out grace in my life - everyday.

And when that one person who I feel really needs a swift kick in the pants calls, and all I can think of is the character of this God I serve, and the extravagant grace that He has shown me, my words come out stronger than I ever thought they could. Because it is so easy to spew out the treatment that people deserve when they have done wrong, but it takes strength and discernment to set aside the rightful hurt that we need to "let out" and instead say what that person needs to hear.

And once we have recognized the grace in our own lives, who are we - really, who are we, not to also respond in grace with one another? It is humbling to acknowledge our sin and our need for forgiveness. It is also so good to be forgiven and it is so healing to love.

Will that person [the one who needs a boot to the butt] continue to make bad decisions?? Guaranteed. And so will I. Maybe not the same decisions, but we both need grace when we recognize our stupidity and want to change. And neither of us deserve it.

It is a gift.

Find someone to give it to. [My guess is, you already know whose name belongs on the tag.] May you recognize the great love that our God and Savior Jesus Christ has extended to us, and be an ambassador of His love to that "Gah!!-Seriously?-What-could-possibly-make-you-think-that's-a-good-idea!!" someone that doesn't deserve it. Because let's face it, that's you and me too sometimes. And, well, He tells us to.

Love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind and all your strength...and love your neighbor as yourself. Jesus summed up every rule with those few words. Love God. Love people.

Be gracious and watch God be glorified in your life - maybe even in that relationship.

I'd love to hear how He uses grace in your lives to do great things...
And I'm going to watch and pray to see how He is glorified in my own situation.

Rejecting the Right to be Angry

When my husband arrives at the door after work, the entire house erupts in chaotic excitement. Little toddler tippy-toes dance full-speed ahead in an attempt to beat older siblings to the entrance in our kitchen. Sometimes the children run and hide, giggling in place as they wait for Dad to notice they are missing and being a game of hide-and-seek in an attempt to find them. Other times, there is a rush of energy as they hurry to finish a task, usually picking up their toys, so Dad will be proud of them for cleaning up. But always, there is commotion. Shouts of joy and exclamatory outbursts can be heard throughout our home: "Daddy's here! Daddy's here!"

Yesterday was no exception.

Little L. ran to the door, her chubby two-year-old legs working overtime to keep up with her outstretched arms. "Daddy!!" She was ready to leap into his arms before his keys had even turned the lock. The older two ran in behind her and quickly began chattering, less concerned about whether anyone was paying any attention and more interested in relieving the in-suppressible need to verbally release all the information that their little minds had been storing throughout the day, waiting patiently for an opportunity to tell Dad every detail he might have missed.

I stood there across the room and smiled. Our eyes met and he smiled back and said a simple, "Hi." Then untangling the children from his legs, he walked over to kiss me.

The children had more to say, so I walked back into the next room to resume folding laundry. Eventually, the kids dispersed to continue their own activities, which they had previously abandoned when they heard Dad's car door shut in the driveway, and I returned to the kitchen. He turned to face me and leaned his back against the counter. I stood near the stove.

"So," I asked, "How did it go."

He shrugged, smirked, then smiled and sighed. "It went good." His tone was not confident.

"What does that mean?" I pried for a more explicit answer.

He looked at me knowingly and began to explain. "You know, it's one of those things that you can either get mad about or look at it as an opportunity to learn something and grow from it."

My smile diminished and I could feel the warm tears welling. I knew I would not like whatever I was about to hear. He knew it too.

"I'm just choosing not to let it make me angry. I want to recognize my own part in it and I want to be better because of it. I want you to do the same."

I just looked at him. No reply. He knows me, I'm already angry and I don't even know why yet. His smile was understanding, compassionate and reassuring. "I need you to be forgiving, because if you get angry about it, it is just going to make me angry and I don't want that. I just needed to say that before I tell you anything else."

My heart sank as he went on to share with me the details of his meeting. What he learned that day would give anyone cause to feel angry. Yet he stood there, saddened, but gracious as he gently explained it all. Not once did his voice raise. Not once did he speak unkindly about anyone. He humbly accepted more responsibility than I know he needs to own. I knew he was devastated inside, but determined; he was angry about what had taken place, yet refused to become embittered by it, refused to dwell in that anger. Instead, his response to the whole situation, and especially to this information, has been perhaps one of the most beautiful things I have witnessed in his life during the fifteen years that I have known him.

While the children squealed and laughed in the other room, my heart was torn between the natural reaction to news like this and the one my husband had not only asked me to have, but was modeling for me. Every time I felt that heat of fury burning in my gut, I thought of him. He was the one who should be most enraged. He wasn't. He had every human right to be angry about this, but he chose not to. I realized what a brave and strong man I am married to.

To do right is certainly commendable. But to choose, even in the privacy of your own home, in the familiarity and safety of your own heart, to embrace what is right - that is truly strength of character. Anyone can modify their behavior publicly or say nice things in front of others. Integrity is doing right regardless of who sees or doesn't see, it is consistency of character. It takes strength to choose to reject the right to be angry and instead to respond with forgiveness towards those who have wronged us.

My husband is truly the very best man I know. He is wise. He is humble and teachable and forgiving. He is a living and honest example to me of love. And although, he is imperfect, as I look at the definition of love, he is all these things. I don't say that just to flatter him. I live life with him everyday and he really does live an example of love - not perfect love, but one of the best examples I have ever witnessed. I am so honored to know this man and to share life with him and to walk through disappointments with him. If not for his example, my heart would be a mess right now. But he is so confident in his determination to do what is right, that I cannot help but to want to follow his lead and let go of my right to be angry and to remember the abundant grace that our God has offered  each of us. I have been forgiven for so much, I must also forgive others.

Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy. It does not boast. It is not proud. It is not rude. It is not selfish. It is not easily angered. It keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. Love always protects. Love always trusts. Love always hopes. Love always perseveres. Love never fails. [1 Corinthians 13]

In what might have been one of the most devastating moments in our lives so far, there is peace and joy that overwhelm the discouragement and sadness; there is love, whose brilliance outshines the shadows of injustice and anger.

It is no wonder that our home explodes with excitement when Daddy arrives - even on days when he brings sad news along with him. He fills our home with hope and kindness, protection and love.

I am blessed.

Sunday Morning

You know those times when you sit there in a church service and hear the words and listen to the message, and it is applicable to your life and you walk away from that time convicted, challenged or encouraged to face the week ahead? Today's message at church was not like that.

Instead, it was as though the entire morning had been carefully orchestrated specifically for us. The second we sat down, we knew...this is what we need to hear. The lyrics during worship were exactly what was in my heart and what I needed to cry out to Him; that life may be challenging and disappointing and unfair - but He is good and holy and worthy. Our circumstances don't change who He is, instead, He changes our perspective in our circumstances.

I knew as we were getting ready this morning that discouragement and sorrow were beginning to well in my heart again. I also knew that I was determined to worship Him, even if I don't understand, even if I am brokenhearted, even if I feel doubt and confusion - I will still follow Him. I will continue to practice trusting Him. I will be thankful.

When the pastor spoke, it was as though a good friend, who understood all we were feeling and everything we were facing, sat down beside us and reminded us of the truth of His Word, walking us through each verse we needed to hear. Our confidence is in a God who loves us, who sees and understands what we cannot and who is more than able to meet all our needs according to His good purpose.

It is easy to say all that in one breath, and grieve our circumstances with the next. The real test is in walking through the difficult circumstances we find ourselves in from time to time [or, perhaps, painfully often] and choosing, each moment, to praise Him - to trust Him.

It is so helpful for me to look at our relationship to our children. We have one in particular who is irrationally dramatic sometimes and before this child even has an opportunity to process information or a situation, this child's reaction becomes instant fear, discouragement, hopelessness. Words like "never" and "always" erupt in bursts of un-checked dramatic exclamations. Often when we want to give this child something good, before we even have an opportunity to explain, this melodramatic display surfaces and the entire plan is dampened by the illogical behavior.

Maybe we react this way a little with God.

Instead of just waiting patiently for Him to explain the whole plan, we jump to conclusions, assuming that because things are not going the way we thought they would, everything is ruined. [Insert hand on forehead and fake swooning...] Or rather than trusting that even if there is no foreseeable plan or answer or conclusion in our favor, that He loves us, wants what is best for us and is not only willing, but able to protect us and help us. That doesn't mean nothing bad ever happens, it just means that He knows, cares about those hurts and has a purpose in allowing them in our lives - even if we never are able to fully understand the "whys".

We teach our children that they need to learn to trust us - even when they don't understand. I imagine our heavenly Father, the God who made the world and everything in it - who formed us with design and purpose and knows the intricacies of both our bodies and our spirits, expects that same respect from us.

That's kind of what it boils down to. Respect. If I believe that He is God and that His Word is true, why would I question or fear or become discouraged? We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose. If God is for us, who can be against us?

This is a verse that was brought to mind this afternoon: So do not fear, for I am with you. Do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

I just need to love Him. That's it. If I love Him, I will listen to Him, I will walk in obedience and do what is right. If I know Him, I will know that He is to be trusted. He clothes flowers and feeds sparrows. He loves us. I won't waste time wondering and worrying and wishing. But instead, I will invest myself in worship. I will commit my heart to trusting His character and wisdom, rather than my own. I will find contentment in His company, rather than seek satisfaction in something innate or unattainable. My confidence cannot lie in what we see alone, because our eyes can trick us to believe we see something different from what really is. My perspective is so very narrow, there is a whole world of insight and understanding that I could not possibly gain in a lifetime. I am like my child in my understanding compared to the Lord, [if even that wise].  He knows better and if I am wise, I will continue to let my confidence rest in Him.

I'm so encouraged to know that He works things together for our good and for His purposes - even preparing today's message for us. He is kind.

Disappointment

I can hardly catch a breath, sorrow and heaviness chokes me. My eyes burn. My head aches and my abdomen is pinched with tension. Facing this evening has been like waking up into a bad dream. I wish I could fall asleep to a nightmare right now and leave behind the nauseous knowing that this won't just go away in the morning. I've been awakened from a dream - to the reality that life is unpredictable, ever-changing, unfair, unjust and inconsiderate of our feelings.

I cannot sit or stand, I pace and attempt to go through routine motions, leaving millions of simple things undone for lack of hopeful motivation. I feel as though I am such a mess of a woman with this devastation weighing heavy on my soul. It is amazing how one decision can impact nearly every aspect of life. I cannot undo, or fix or change what is. I can only wait. Like a young chick with an open mouth, trusting in its parent's provision.

Tonight as I watched the lightening flash violently across the sky, illuminating the horizon with it's mesmerizing brilliance, I was reminded that I am so small. That my world and my wants and my hopes and my life is so very, very small; and that He is powerful. My God is mighty to save. I don't say that as the "Christian-eze" thing to say, I know He is. I've tasted and seen that the Lord is good. He has met us in our dark places. He has stood near and comforted in our hurts. He has changed hearts and lives and made provisions and offered wisdom. I know that even though my stomach turns and my heavy heart is weary, anxious and afraid, that He is to be depended upon and that He alone is in control. He gives and takes away. He is where our refuge is found, stability is in the Rock, not in my dreams and hopes for a future. This is not our home.

As much as I desperately, desperately grieve this, the knowledge that He is loving and able cannot be dismissed by the devastation of vanished dreams. I don't believe the foolish words that "everything will work out for the best". It may not. It may work out for the hardest, the ugliest, the most painful and unpleasant. But He will be there. His power is able to provide brilliant light to eradicate the dense darkness - if only for a brief moment, and remind us He is there.

This discouragement is certainly not the most severe trial a person can suffer, but it is a heavy blow for my shallow and weak heart. I may need to stop dreaming altogether, and keep my eyes open to the reality in front of me; not nearly as much fun, but I'm too disappointed to hope, and cannot help but wonder if He prefers a bit of darkness to surround me so that the brilliance of His light is that much more splendid.

Even in our shadows, He remains. Even in our weakness, His hand is strong. I would still rather be uncomfortable where He is than happy where He is not. This I know. It may be all that I know.

So tonight, I will brush away the tears, and consider His character and kindness - and all the many blessings I have been given. I will remember dark places He sustained me in. I will recall wise insight He has spoken into my heart. I will remind my soul of His faithful provision of all that I have ever needed. In my heart, in the Spirit and knowing the truth, I will worship Him. Nothing else matters much for very long. Life and all of its worries and concerns and demands lasts only a short moment, and is over. In the end, our soul is all we keep. My soul has grown tired and weary, anxious of each next second and where it will lead us to. Perhaps I was so intent on traveling to a destination that I neglected to look up and clearly see the lightening, until the darkness set in, and it became impossible to ignore.

Even in my disappointment, I rejoice, because You, O God are good and You, O Lord are loving. Not the "throw your hands up in the air and dance" kind of "rejoice". Not even the "smile and feel glad inside" kind of "rejoice". It is admittedly a weak rejoicing, maybe a forced rejoicing. But a deep-rooted sense that there is cause for celebration and gladness in my soul, because I know the love and forgiveness of Christ - and nothing, not even lost years, deep sorrows and vanished opportunities can separate us from Him. What others see with worldly eyes, He sees with eternal eyes. I am caught between eternity and earth...never quite understanding what is before me. But I trust. And I waver. Then return to trusting.

Thank you, Jesus, for knowing me and holding me, even [and perhaps especially,] when my moment seems so dark and my heart cannot be quieted, so full of thundering emotions.

Be Still, My Busy Heart

Our minds are overflowing with information, which is thrown at us from all directions. Billboards and business signs reach out for our attention as we drive down the street. Advertisements scream at us as we check our e-mail, read our Facebook messages, catch up on the evening news or browse through the daily paper. Let's not even mention the barrage of messages we receive while shopping, whether we are at a grocery store, department store, a mall, online...doesn't matter - obviously we "need more", "deserve more", or "should be doing more"...blah...blah...blah. [Guess I did "mention" it after all.] If you watch television, add to the list a whole new set of voices that insist on our attention.

Even viewing movies, we are introduced to trailers for other movies. It is constant mental noise and distraction.

Well-intentioned advertisement can also be overwhelming. Take church announcements, for example, humanitarian pleas, or calls from charity organizations. "Volunteers are needed in the nursery." "Join the Women's Ministry group every Thursday to grow closer to the Lord." "Help with the Fundraiser." "Go on a mission trip and see your life changed!" "Donate to the crisis." "Help us help them." None of it is bad, just...noisy. There is an overwhelming abundance of information to be processed every day.

Add to that the chaotic chatter of children [young or old]. Even while playing happily [maybe especially while playing happily], three happy voices at once coming from all different directions quickly melt together into noise. Happy noise. Noise I generally love...but noise, nonetheless.

Unhappy noise is far less pleasant. Whining, bickering, arguments, yelling, fighting, crying...these resonate in the deepest part of a mother's heart, conjuring up a soup of emotions from agonizing empathy to bitter irritation. It is loud, both literally and figuratively, within our hearts and minds.

Add to the continuous flow of noise and information the unending "doing". From the moment I wake to the second I pass out from exhaustion, I am busy. My hands are busy - and even when they have a moment to rest, my heart and mind are burdened with responsibilities, schedules, goals, lists, deadlines, demands, desires...etc. I am exhausted.

There are the usual daily tasks, such as laundry, meal preparations, dishes to be washed, floors to be cleaned, children to be bathed, beds to be made, toys to be put away, homework to be completed, etc. Then, of course, the occasional and the unexpected responsibilities; commitments to be fulfilled, family or friends that need help, home repairs, auto repairs, bills to be paid, groceries to purchase, clothing to be replaced, celebrations and holidays to be planned. And to the list of "doing", add the selective - the things we want to do that take time and attention, that are unnecessary, but we either enjoy doing them or feel compelled to do them [or both]. Just writing it all down exhausts me.

Here's the point of my pointing out the obvious: We are inundated with busyness.

We are conditioned to believe we must constantly be doing, going, getting, growing, so much so that we often neglect the simplicity of being, of living. We will never accomplish all there is to do. It is a mountain that starts out bigger than our abilities and continues to increase in size and height. There is no summit point we can reach, where we can finally sit down and look out across the horizon to see how far we have come and glory in our great accomplishments. It is illusive and unattainable. There is always "doing" to be done.

As I was overwhelmed by the demands that were before me a few days ago, I was reminded of the Psalm. "Be still and know that I am God." [Psalm 46:10]

I am His creation, designed and purposed to be clay in His hand...molded and shaped and used for His plans and His glory. Why do we chase after these "things" and "goals" and "objectives" with such wild voracity. We look ahead and plow forward and forget to recognize the person standing beside us in the grocery line. We are so focused on checking off every single box by the end of the day that when it comes time to tuck our children into bed, we realize that is the first time we've really stopped to look at them all day. We pour all of our energy and effort into our careers, and we come home exhausted, with little or nothing of ourselves left to share with our spouse. We are like race horses, our eyes set straight by blinders, while we may run fast and efficiently, like handsomely carved machines...and the crowds may cheer and there may be a blue ribbon or silver cup with our name on it at the end of the race, the fact remains, we are running in circles. Silver cups tarnish and blue ribbons deteriorate.

If I can walk faithfully each day, doing the things He has made me to do - whether they are spectacular and others notice, or they are simple and mundane and thankless jobs - then that day has been successful.

It will be busy. Life is busy. It will be noisy and messy and hard. But in my heart, I must learn to be still and know that He is God. I must learn to rest, to quiet my mind, to resist the onslaught of messages that pull me in every direction from every limb until I am stretched to my absolute limit. The cultural norm of busy till you bust will get us to a finish line, and maybe even a ribbon, but in the meantime, we pass swiftly by the beautiful landscape surrounding our track and trample over weaker competitors, who may have been our dearest companions, if we would only pay attention to something other than the voices and the whips that press heavy and relentlessly on our backs.

As you face your busyness today, take a moment to be still. And as you accomplish the things that must get done, quiet your heart and know that He is God. "Whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God." [1 Corinthians 10:31]

180

Graphic. Powerful. Thought-provoking...and a little uncomfortable.
Worth 30 minutes of your day to consider what he has to say...

Puffy Paint and Fanny Packs

As she casually spoke, her words jostled my gut. Whoa…back up. Am I hearing this correctly? With minimal prodding I realize something is awry. Her answers are evasive.

Why do we ignore the glaring truth in front of us and blaze forward into unholy places? Oh, we cover it up nicely. We justify it with spiritual words that sound intelligent and religious. But, my friends, much of our religion is empty – so desperately empty. I shudder and I am ill at the thought of our own hopeless depravity.

How can I focus on the task at hand? My penmanship fails me and I toss another poorly addressed envelope aside. My mind is racing and searching for some justification I can accept. Finally I turn to my husband. “Tell me I should not be upset.” He pauses.

“I can’t,” he finally replies. I groan.

And left to wrestle with these familiar emotions, I return to this single thought: that the shame of it all is the reproach we bring upon His Name. O all the ugliness and greed that charm our minds to consider what we should never give regard: it causes men and women to loathe the very One we verbally stand for, and our lives so dimly reflect.

I see this very thing in me: a struggle between what is right and what is palatable; a tug-of-war I consistently lose. Let’s just stop disguising it and call greed what it is. Let’s give our selfishness the title it has certainly earned for all the many ways it is able to succeed. But let’s not dress it up and be-dazzle it with justifications. It’s like adding puffy paint to a fanny pack. Justification is entirely unhelpful – our motives are still ugly.

Yet, He came to love us, sinners that we are. Lord, impart this grace into my heart; to love those who make my soul feel sick with grief and anger. Do I not fear your holy love for those I let my heart disdain? I must realize that these dark places would be far more familiar to me were it not for You, who save me from my own self. Perhaps some are, and I simply do not recognize where I am.

Learn to love, I must. The practice of forgiveness and grace is so unnatural - but entirely necessary.

The line between recognition and judgment is often erased in the name of love. When I see the church frequent shadowy corners it burdens my spirit in so many ways. I am convinced it breaks His heart to witness. I am not speaking condemnation when I state the obvious wrong, but I invite His displeasure when my heart breathes furious mutterings against those He deeply loves. Like a mother, aching as she listens to her children bicker and bite and cheerfully tattle on one another - such a draining and mournful experience. I imagine it is a taste of His emotion as He sees our proud looks and hears our arrogant thoughts. We are no better. We are terminal with the same disease - this sickness we are fascinated by, called sin.

O the great shame of it all is the sorry mockery we make of Him for the entire world to see. He is not bound by our own representation, however. He proves Himself by His own creation, by His Word and by His Spirit. I fix my eyes on Him and there too, I place my hope. While men and systems will disappoint and fail, He is able to work all things for our good and for His glory. I stand amazed.

My heart beat slows to a steadier pace...no longer so passionately fueled with emotion. And I pick my pen up once more and determine this moment to love. A moment away I will need to strengthen my resolve again, but for this moment grace wins in me.

Whirlwind...

[I posted this over at my education blog...and think it is fitting here too, so I'm re-posting.]

Life is a blur as of late...

Spring has sprung and everyone is restless, longing to drink in the sunshine. My kids grow bigger; and along with their increase in size comes an increase in appetites, a wider disaster radius post-playtime and continued development of independent thinking - consequently: more frequent arguments both with each other and myself. My husband has been diligently studying, excelling in all his classes; I am so proud!

L., my youngest, has started walking and is quickly graduating from that mundane skill to more exciting techniques for mobility...such as climbing. [Really, who wants to walk when you could just climb stuff, right?]

A few days ago I caught her sitting in the middle of the living room talking to herself, "No. Nooo. No. No Ma. No Mom. No. Mom. No no. Noooo." She was practicing telling me no. My heart was filled with delight at her sweet voice, pride for her working so intently to enunciate her words correctly...and slight trepidation as I considered the implications of her resolve to clearly communicate her defiance.

My oldest daughter is learning important and difficult lessons about the ugliness of lies. Meanwhile, her father and I are being tested in matters of patience and grace. She is also rapidly learning to read and write. She enjoys writing letters and often I find random letters on her schoolwork or art pages. Occasionally, her random letters happen to form words, much to her older brother's astonishment and delight. He is very impressed by her "skill" and they celebrate her accomplishment together with cheering, laughter and expressions of recognition: "Great job!" "Wow...you wrote ________!" "You are such a great speller!" This warms my spirit. I love to see my children loving and encouraging one another.

I am considering what to do for my son's education in the fall. Boarding school has been an attractive thought from time to time. New, unpleasant and frustrating phrases have been surfacing during our conversations lately; "It's not FAIR!" "I wish I had a different mom!" "Why do I have to...?!" I really dislike the attitude I see him developing and find myself praying often for an extra measure of love and grace to respond to it. While this new "big kid" personality dampens my excitement about home-educating in the coming school year, it also deepens my resolve to guide him, to instruct him, teach and correct him so that issues of character, discipline and integrity may be swiftly addressed and corrected, deterring poor attitude from developing into bad habits and unpleasant personality in later years.

I am just taking it all in. At moments, reminding myself to pause to breathe or to resist the temptation to react. Other times, digging deep to find motivation to tackle the dishes and laundry, or to mom-up and confront the arguing coming from the kids' room [instead of hiding in the pantry with a bar of chocolate pretending not to hear it]. Occasionally, ignoring those tasks that seem so pressing and important, but will still be there tomorrow and just holding my baby a little longer while she sleeps, or sitting on the floor playing dolls, or pulling out a messy art project to do TOGETHER or attacking my children with kisses and tickles while they still enjoy it - I know it will not last forever.

This season is full of unique joys and difficulties...and so will be the next. This is a sweet sort of whirlwind to be caught up in.

One Lovely Year

A year ago today, the bright warm sun was streaming into my room and filling the shadows with a glow full of life and excitement. I can still see the smiling, kind face of my midwife as she assured me that I was close to greeting my little girl. The presence of light in the room filled me with a new determination, a burst of energy and strength I did not realize I possessed. With a final push and painful, yet triumphant cry, she slipped into this world and into my longing arms and the day began.

My heart aches a little for that moment to return...for that indescribable feeling to linger just a bit longer. There is nothing in all the world like staring into the eyes of your newborn baby, their insanely tiny fingers wrapped lightly around your own, and soft, damp skin pressed against your chest. I have never in my life experienced such tremendous pain, or exhilarating joy.

What an incredible way to begin a day! Even after being up all night, wavering back and forth between great  anticipation of what was inevitable and overwhelming fear that I could not survive it...all I wanted to do that day was stare at her, and kiss her, and feel her velvety cheeks. I hated to nod off into a slumber and miss a single second of her miraculous presence beside me. I was so deeply in love with this bitty creature I had only just met. How could I possibly love her with this intensity? How could I possibly not?

We took her home hours later...still slightly intoxicated with bliss. The days and loooong nights following would prove to be challenging at the least. I felt entirely unprepared to care for a newborn along with my 2 and 4 year old children. My heart raced and my mind panicked at the very thought of my husband's return to work. But despite the fears and inadequacies I struggled with, this sweet year has been so very lovely. And this surprise baby we had not anticipated or desired has filled our lives with a richness and beauty that cannot be reproduced any other way. It is a fullness that money cannot buy and planning cannot manufacture. It is a gift.

I am ever so thankful that God, in all His wisdom, ignored the dreams in my own heart and gave me a gift I had not asked for and shamefully, I even mourned over a bit. I was so foolish to ever think that I did not want to be needed and loved by this sweet girl. I weep as I consider it. Thank you, Lord, for unseen circumstances and unplanned honors...like sharing a day full of sunshine and new life with the baby girl you have given to us. What a privilege and joy this year of living life together has been for our family!

Happy Birthday to my sweet darling, L.
What an amazing day it was!

A Stranger Joy

What is this I see with my eyes?
The lonely, shadowed places men lie
And weep
Not concerned that others view it
This pain cannot be choked down
It must be heard
All too familiar are the gunshots and the cries
Listen close
A piercing blast and strong men agonize
In their eyes
I see fear met with determination
I see devastation
What's to loose?
Death could free them from the tragedy they live

And I grieve
With this perfect baby in my arms
And I weep to know a mother holds a lifeless child
And I pull her closer still and breathe a prayer
I wrestle with my thoughts then leave them there
Too great to bear
Too big to comprehend in my small heart

Standing in the kitchen
Staring down into the black sink
I am thankful that there's dishes to be washed
Images flash by in my mind
Of dark waves crashing, rushing by
And trailing grand destruction
This should be a dream
This should be a nightmare
But I have seen
And someone lives it
And my heart grieves
While children's laughter warms my heart
From the next room
And I cherish every tiny shriek
Knowing somewhere silence breaks his heart
And a father stares into an empty space
Too soon apart

Greater still a love that cannot be
Shaken by a quaking ground or raging sea
Silenced by the roar of men
Intimidated by a gun
No this love will never run
It holds us firm
And we cannot slip the grip of this grand grace
A peace that passes understanding
Hope that drives a weary soul to carry on
A truth that sets a firm foundation
So if the ground should shake
We will not fear
Though hate accuse
It won't prevail

I pull my baby close and say a prayer
God, meet them there
In the lonely, shadowed places I can't see
Cannot reach
Wipe away the tears the helpless weep
May Your love bring
A stranger joy

A Birthday Party for Boomer

Boomer is our puppy. Well, more specifically, my son's puppy. OK...even more specifically - he is a stuffed animal puppy. He's pretty cute, spotted brown with floppy ears; he's a typical toy dog and he has captivated my little guy's heart - well, as much as a stuffed puppy should.

My son has been telling me for the last several days that it is almost Boomer's birthday. To which I have smiled and nodded, "MmmHmmm...that's nice, darling..." then continued on with whatever task I was engaged in at that moment. I mean, really, how enthusiastic can one get over a pretend birthday for a pretend puppy?! 

But a couple hours ago it occurred to me that this was really meaningful to my son. He knows it is not REALLY Boomer's birthday, but he is having so much fun imagining all the excitement and anticipation of celebrating with his toy. Yet I had not yet stopped to really acknowledge his enthusiasm...let alone join him in it.

As we tucked our oldest kids into bed tonight, my son excitedly crawled under his covers and announced [for like the fifteenth time today...] that tomorrow was Boomer's birthday. Right as I could feel my internal eyes rolling in irritation over this repeated announcement and my inner self yawning with calloused uninterest in it, I felt the Lord urging me to care about Boomer's birthday.

Weird, huh?

I mean, aren't there bigger issues to pour out my thoughts and attention on?  The dinner dishes are yet to be washed, I have two laundry baskets full of clothes that need to be folded. Not to mention, big things [...like my husband working long and hard toward landing a job in a new career...like world news headlines of unrest and violence in the middle east...like stories of realities men, women and children face each day in distant places - realities I cannot even begin to fully grasp - and asking hard questions, like "why"...these sorts of "big issues"] seem to demand my attention and thoughts. How can I possibly endure playing along with my five-year-old's puppy party, when I really have other things I need to take care of - things that are, uh...real. 

No sooner did these thoughts flutter through my heart and mind then HE gently put them to rest.

My participation was not about celebrating Boomer; it was about joining my son and enjoying the thing he enjoyed alongside him. Stepping down from the busy concerns of my adult world to give attention to something that was meaningful and important to him...and thereby expressing to him that he is important to me. I have been neglecting to respond to him the way he's been begging me to all day...with a reciprocated excitement about this event that he was so delighted by. 

So, after a moment or two of sulking in remorse over what a lame mom I am, God gave me the brilliant idea to throw Boomer a surprise party. 

I found a couple greeting cards and my husband and I both wrote little notes to Boomer inside one card.  We were intentional about directing our messages to Boomer, but indicating our love for our son through them. I included sentiments such as, "I'm so glad that _____ has such a wonderful puppy to play with!" - and so on. Then I found a puppy sticker and taped it to the card, so Boomer would be able to stick it to something.

The second card was from Boomer's best friends, a pink and white puppy named Buster and the newest member of the club, Jackson [he was a Christmas present].  Buster and Jackson left a message inside the card and beside their names, each one signed with a paw print. 

My MIL had a small packaged Hostess-type cake, which she gave to me for the occasion and I topped it with colorful sprinkles and a candle, placed it on a plate and then into the oven in my children's play kitchen. 

On our kitchen table I arranged a group of animals my children play with most, along with a note that says:

"SURPRISE!! Happy Birthday Boomer! All your friends came to celebrate with you!"

And beneath that another note that explains the other items on the table [more on those in a minute] and directs Boomer to look inside the play kitchen oven for another surprise [his cake].  Buster and Jackson are sitting off to the side, holding their card, which also contains a small gift inside. And in the center of the table are four helium balloons, leftover from a visit from my parents several weeks ago. [I tell you what, helium balloons are a BIG hit with kiddos...and these have lasted for weeks!]

Also on the table are various items; I selected several books to read [PB Bear's Birthday and a book about pets], a puzzle [a giant "Pets" floor puzzle by Melissa & Doug], a game [Turtle Picnic - love that game], a movie [Clifford's Best Friends], and a stack of birthday and party related coloring pages I tore from a coloring book [along with a box of crayons].  These are all activities my kids can do on their own [with the rest of the party guests, aka their stuffed animals]...so my son will be able to participate in throwing the party for Boomer too.

And guess what? I had fun doing it!  I enjoyed the divergence from those heavy and daunting concerns and tasks...which, by the way, will always be there - you can't just check them off a list, they don't ever really go away. I was giddy as I thought about how surprised and thrilled my son will be when he wakes up tomorrow and finds the surprise party for Boomer. And I was humbled to consider how often God stoops down to care about the insignificant things I get excited or anxious about. Sure, there are much bigger issues in the world for Him to give His attention to...but He takes time to acknowledge me.  He hears me when I pray. He cares about my son...and cared enough to cause me to pause and consider his imaginative play and his perspective. He asked me to take time to prepare a celebration and set up a party for a stuffed animal: because He wants my son to know he is loved. 

This humbles me greatly.

I so often overlook those opportunities that appear insignificant; and all the while valuable moments pass by and I invest in something less worthy.  O for eyes to see His view when I look at my children, and others around me.

Is there someone you need to pause a moment [and maybe even be a little bit silly] to love today?

Wounds from a Friend

A friend of mine made an odd comment today that is really bugging me. I wish I could just "let it go", but I can't. My husband encouraged me not to take it personally, but it sort of was. I want to ask her about it, but I know she doesn't handle confrontation well. However, if I don't resolve it, I know it will affect our relationship anyway. Bleh. I dislike these situations. What would you do in a situation like this? Or if you've experienced something similar, did you say something? Did you ignore it and move on? What was the outcome?

I once confronted a friend about some long drawn out issues and it was not received well at all. I never wanted to bring it up in the first place. I knew it would be uncomfortable, although I didn't realize it would end our relationship. I addressed my concerns in the most honest and loving way I knew how...I genuinely loved her dearly. But she was unwilling to acknowledge or admit any wrongdoing...and I was unwilling to invest any more of myself in a friendship that lacked honesty. Here I am, eight years later...still saddened by the memory of our exchange that day.

While truth is beautiful and valuable, it is not always pleasant.  Very often, it is not easily expressed - and generally even less easily accepted, especially when it comes to truth about ourselves.  While lies and issue-skirting leave a tangled mess for us to forge our way through later on, in a moment of discomfort, humanity tends to favor these over truth.  It is much safer to float along the surface than it is to dive a little deeper and risk facing the pressure of a current; so we remain shallow in our relationships.

When my husband and I were "dating" [if you could call our pre-marriage relationship a "dating" relationship], we had been in disagreement over something...I can't even remember what now...and I just shut down. I refused to discuss it, and tuned out what he had to say. After what felt like a very long silent drive back to my parents’ house, he parked the car and looked at me and said to me, "Heather, if this relationship is going to work, you have to learn to communicate. I cannot have a relationship with you if you don't learn how to talk about things. We need to be able to resolve conflict, not ignore it. So, you need to decide to work on this, or I can't continue this relationship."

Um...wow.  Those were harsh words for my already wounded spirit to hear.

He was very patient and gracious with me...and continues to be...as I forced myself to talk about difficult things in a healthy way. It was not until after a couple years of marriage that I finally learned how to have an argument without yelling...or storming into another room and slamming the door behind me...or just "checking out" of the conversation and staring off blankly at nothing in an attempt to disengage in the discomfort of our confrontation. He has helped me see the benefit in open communication. And gently forced me to address issues I would have never dealt with apart from his willingness to say the hard things, often making himself vulnerable in the process with phrases like, "How have I contributed to this?" or "If I've done wrong, please tell me, and forgive me."

"An honest answer is like a kiss on the lips." [Proverbs 24:6] This is a verse I often thought of when J. and I were struggling through difficult conversations. He never kissed my lips until the day we were married...and I knew that being honest with him was a way I could love him purely while we were "dating". I know it might sound weird, but honesty is really intimate. I think only my closest friends and family are willing to either ask or answer honest questions. If a stranger says, “Hi, how are you,” the correct answer is always, “Good”; it is not really a genuine question - a brief summary of your current condition would be awkward, and likely unwelcome. By contrast, when someone you trust asks the same question, the answer varies. The question is honest, and so is the reply.

I remember early in our marriage times when he would sit stubbornly and patiently for who even knows how long and wait…wait until I was willing to listen and willing to talk about things. And that was AFTER I had really worked on communicating with him before we got married...can you imagine how poor my conversing skills were prior to his ultimatum?! I was blessed to have been given such a kind and gracious man.

It makes perfect sense that we shirk from the difficult conversations. But, sadly, that keeps us from growing. If I refuse to receive criticism from others, and if I run from correction and refuse to acknowledge my fault and ask forgiveness...how will I ever become better? There is no honesty in a relationship that dances around deep issues. That kind of friendship is cheap. It's easy. I know someone truly loves me when he or she is willing to risk my opinion of them in an effort to help me grow. It's generally pretty obvious when words are spoken with care and concern, vs. a motive of self-assertion and callous fault-finding. The words may sting either way, but wounds from a friend can be trusted...while an enemy multiplies kisses [Proverbs 27:6].

Point being...when you love somebody, you say the hard things when they need to be said. If someone is not that important to you, the risk, the discomfort and uneasiness of confrontation just isn't worth it. Do you have someone in your life that you allow to speak those difficult-to-hear truths into your life? Are you a friend who cares enough to offer loving correction, even when it's not well-received...or easy to give? And are you willing to engage with others in a meaningful way? I've found that many of us [myself included] resist the nitty-gritty of conflict resolution using a wide variety of tactics to dodge the ball and skirt around the issues. And many of us [I'm also guilty here too] have grown so accustomed to shallow interaction, that we don't even realize the hollow state of our relationships.

I still don't know if I will talk with my friend. Not because I am afraid to, I just feel pretty confident it will not end pretty, and wonder if it is even worth it. [Some battles need to be fought, others are less important.] But, the fact that I struggle with whether it's ok to be honest with her or not kind of puts perspective on the depth of our friendship doesn't it?

Yard Sale Shopping With God

It's a weird title, I know...but bear with me here...

I've noticed God whispering to me lately.  It's that "still, small voice". 

There are two things I believe He has been speaking to me recently.  The first is relatively simply summed up: to practice generosity.  The second is less obviously stated...more on this later.

These gentle promptings might sound silly or insignificant, but I think He is showing me areas I need to work on in my life, areas I really didn't see as a problem before.  They're subtle, small things.  Actually, as I am writing and considering it, I actually think He has been speaking one thing to me, I've just viewed these things as though they were separate issues...but they are not really.

I was out this weekend "yard-saleing". 

I'm a pretty good bargainer.  It was difficult for me at first, but I quickly learned how to ask for lower prices.  There was a period of several years in my life when, had it not been for kind people selling their used kids clothes to me at dirt cheap prices, I'm confident we could not have afforded to clothe our kids.  I am equally certain that friends and family would have been more than willing to help, had we shared our need.  However, it's not the same having someone give you a bag of hand-me-downs, as it is to pay something [even just a little something] to obtain those necessities.  If you've ever experienced this, you know what I mean.  I love a freebie as much as the next person, but it is a helpless feeling when you are dependant on the charity of others to provide for your children.  [Just to clarify, the kids were never in rags and it's not as though we were starving or anything...just on a very tight, thinly stretched budget.] 

Anyways, it was during this season of life that I finally gutsied up and began to ask for bargain prices...I even negotiated prices with my dentist.  It was a humbling time.  But I learned in that process that most people are happy to give you a deal.  That table of baby clothes marked at 50 cents or a dollar is just a pile of used and unwanted stuff to them...and they are glad for you to take them off their hands for a quarter each...[or even for free].  I just had to be brave enough to ask. 

Of course, occasionally someone is grievously offended by such a question.  I got the "eye rolls" and the laughs or angry, sharp retorts of "I have them priced very reasonably...I'm not giving them away!"  So, I also had to learn to differentiate between the "get rid of it all" sales and the "I don't want this crap, but I know it's still worth almost as much as what I paid for it originally" sales and the "let's clean up and make some money for that _______ we always wanted" sales. 

It's all very scientific.  ;) 

When someone was terribly upset by my low offer for their goods, I would smile, and respond with, "Oh, I know it's worth what you are asking, I'm  sure someone will pay that.  I'm bargain hunting today, though...thanks anyway - have a great afternoon."  It's amazing what a smile and thoughtful response will do to diffuse an otherwise hostile yard-saleing situation.  ;)

Anyways, short story long [as per usual with me], I was yard-saleing on Friday and every time I wanted to ask someone for a lower price, I heard that whisper.  "No, pay them what they are asking," the voice spoke.  So I did.  I did not offer a single person a lower price yesterday.  I either paid what the items were marked...or left them.  A few items were not marked, so I either offered a price or asked...but never bartered.  I only bought a few things.

Can you guess what "treasures" I found? 

Here are some clues...

How many can you guess right?

#1.

#2.

#3.

#4.

#5.

#6.

#7.

#8.

Did you guess?

*

*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*

Ok...here's what I found...

#1. a beveled mirror.

[I'm in the middle of packing - and all my "decorative stuff" is put away...so, my salt and pepper shakers became props today...]

#2.  a decorative tray...

[I have a re-purpose project in mind for this little gem...]

[I really like the circular etching in the center of the platter.]

#3. brand new Sterilite plastic storage drawers...

I really like these clear plastic drawers. They aren't fancy, but they are great for organizing and storing just about anything.  I find them often at garage sales for pretty cheap and like using them in the kids' room, because unlike other furniture, they are lightweight and the edges are curved plastic, much safer for the kids to be playing with than straight edged wooden drawers.  I also like the neutral white...other plastic "kids" furniture is often brightly multicolored...which maybe the kids like, but it's too much for me...and let's be honest...they don't really care what their furniture looks like, they are more interested at the toys inside the drawers.

#4. a complete Stampin' Up! "Ornate Floral" Alphabet set...

I can hardly wait to monogram stuff with these!

#5. a Crayola watercolor paper pad for the kids...

#6. a Dover "stained glass" coloring book for the kids...

#7. a large glass jar with lid...

AND finally...

#8. a shadowbox picture frame...

[I'd like to point out a couple things about this picture.  First of all, the dust...I got lazy toward the end and opted not to clean the frame before I photographed it.  Secondly, I'd like to explain why the lack of motivation - may I call your attention to the center of the image above?  See that chubby little arm and those perfect little fingers?  They were wiggling and reaching and grabbing the entire time, she would cry when I put her down, so I chose to take pictures while holding her...my arms are actually sore as I type...it's amazing the energy that is required to hold a squirming baby. 

So...cute baby, dirty dusty frame. 

That about sums up my caption on this one.]

One more game and then I'll get to the conclusion of my story...

Guess how much I spent?

Go on, take a guess...

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

Did you guess?

Come on just take a guess...

*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*

Ok...sooo my grand total for all these items:  $5.50!

Woo-hoo!

Alright, enough with the games and back to business...

At one particular sale, I made a purchase - and headed back to my truck.  As I drove away, I realized that I had never even looked the man in the eyes.  I was so busy scoping out the "stuff" and in a hurry to scout out the next sale...that even as I gathered my items...paid him...and as he bagged my things for me, not once did I look at his face.  I mean, I glanced at his face.  But I couldn't have picked him out of a line up.  I remember he wore a hat and his hands were dirty...not like filthy dirty, but almost as though they had become "stained dirty" over the years. 

I continued down the road feeling convicted.

When I spotted the next sign and pulled my vehicle over, I eagerly glanced over the items in the driveway.  And then I heard it again...that voice..."Look in his eyes."

I browsed through the sale casually as I headed toward the back of the garage where he sat in his lawn chair...anticipating a customer.  I looked at him and smiled.  "Hello."

"Hello," he replied.

"How's the sale going?  Have you had many people stop by today?"

"No...not too many actually."

"Yeah, well, the weather isn't really cooperating." [It was a bit windy, overcast and cold that morning.]

"No...nope.  It seemed like it was gonna clear up earlier, but I think it might not now."  His voice was relaxed...disappointed and maybe a little weary even.

"I'm sorry.  I hope it does clear up for ya."

I looked through the assortment of vintage dishes on the table...and glanced across the rest of the garage.  He had an antique rocking chair, and kitchen table...some ladies shoes and vintage women's clothing.  My guess was he may have been doing the sale for his mother.

I spotted the little silver tray and walked back over toward him with it.  I handed him my change, looked him in the eye, smiled and thanked him and then wished him a productive sale.  When I arrived back in the truck, the voice whispered again, "I love him."

***

This I needed to consider for a moment. 

I realized that God wanted me to be less involved in my "shopping" and pay attention to the things He loves.  While I was busy looking for a bargain, He was trying to get me to pay attention to people.  I thought He was trying to teach me generosity and purge my selfishness a bit...I think His real message to me had nothing to do with money or stuff.  He wanted me to take my focus off of the stuff...off of the deals...off of the very thing I had set out to do, and redirect my agenda to meet His own.  He wanted me to love these people. 

It's weird how God involves Himself in every moment - in things like "yard-saleing".  At one time in my life, I believe He used it to humble me...and to provide for me.  And this weekend He wanted to use me to provide for others...and to love them, even if in a simple way, of smiling and sharing friendly conversations. 

Sometimes I just don't pay attention when the Holy Spirit is trying to teach me something.  But when I am still enough to hear those soft encouragements...and attentive enough to recognize His voice...I realize that He is speaking. 

I think especially as a mother of small children I have developed a sort of necessary tunnel-vision.  I become so focused on my kids, and the immediate tasks at hand [because I must focus on the kids...and I only have very small windows in which to accomplish a task before someone has a minor crisis and demands my complete attention], I forget to look around me too.  Oh, to be sure, mothers must also master the delicate art of multi-tasking...but it's often within the scheme of the duties that present themselves as a consequence of family, or career.  We tend to easily overlook simple and less demanding and noisy responsibilities.

It's easy to forget to acknowledge the cashier when your toddlers are fighting over who gets to put the groceries on the conveyor belt, and grabbing candy bars begging to buy a handful because they are "starving".  It's not uncommon to nod at our youngsters and throw in an uh-huh while they carry on and on and on about why "this monster truck car can beat that monster truck car when they are crashing into the other guy and doing a double back flip", and never really hear their heart behind the story they are telling us.  We become busy and preoccupied...and simply finding a quiet moment to call a friend and say, "Hello...how are you?" takes planning and effort and let's be honest...quiet moments are rare - and sometimes we are just plain stingy with them.  We need to shop and hurry back home before lunch and naptimes or else kids will have meltdowns...and we forget that God loves the person standing next to us...and we don't have the energy, time or even the thought sometimes to smile and say hello, to start a conversation...to love them.

I learn a lot when God and I go yard-saleing together.  

A few fun treasures from garage sales: $5.50

Snacks to keep the kids happy: $2.00

A reminder that God sees, cares and desires to be involved in even the little things...priceless.