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.
Showing posts with label Life In General. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life In General. Show all posts
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
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]
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]
Monday, October 31, 2011
Gratitude
I love to listen to the laughter of my children mingled with light conversation between my husband and our parents. In our family, most gatherings are incomplete without a spontaneous outburst of song...tonight was no exception.
As I stood in the next room washing dishes from our feast of a dinner, the feeling of gratitude warmed my soul.
I am so thankful for these moments.
It is a joy to experience life together with these people. Tonight we shared dinner with our children and both sets of parents; nine of us sat together around our table in the living room. Together we held hands and thanked the Lord for His provision...my oldest daughter prayed as we all agreed with her.
It was lavish and simplistic all at the same time.
We popped popcorn and played dress-up and several rounds of Apples to Apples. We sipped coffee and shared conversations. We laughed. Tonight, we lived. We interacted with the people we have been given to love - and it was beautiful. I can think of no other place here on earth that I would rather be tonight than right where I am. I do not take these moments for granted.
I am thankful for each day I get to hold these sweet darlings in my arms; for each day they will still climb up on my lap and snuggle into my neck and want to be close. I am thankful for the love, support, example and relationship our parents share with us. I am thankful for my husband, my love...my friend.
I am thankful for the blessing of being able to provide for the needs of our family. I am thankful for a warm home to host such gatherings.
What made tonight so lovely was not the entertainment or good food - although we had plenty of both. What made tonight lovely was them; their presence. What a beautiful gift I have been given.
As I stood in the next room washing dishes from our feast of a dinner, the feeling of gratitude warmed my soul.
I am so thankful for these moments.
It is a joy to experience life together with these people. Tonight we shared dinner with our children and both sets of parents; nine of us sat together around our table in the living room. Together we held hands and thanked the Lord for His provision...my oldest daughter prayed as we all agreed with her.
It was lavish and simplistic all at the same time.
We popped popcorn and played dress-up and several rounds of Apples to Apples. We sipped coffee and shared conversations. We laughed. Tonight, we lived. We interacted with the people we have been given to love - and it was beautiful. I can think of no other place here on earth that I would rather be tonight than right where I am. I do not take these moments for granted.
I am thankful for each day I get to hold these sweet darlings in my arms; for each day they will still climb up on my lap and snuggle into my neck and want to be close. I am thankful for the love, support, example and relationship our parents share with us. I am thankful for my husband, my love...my friend.
I am thankful for the blessing of being able to provide for the needs of our family. I am thankful for a warm home to host such gatherings.
What made tonight so lovely was not the entertainment or good food - although we had plenty of both. What made tonight lovely was them; their presence. What a beautiful gift I have been given.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
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.
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.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Elephants and Dark Clouds
I may be a bad blogger.
Maybe that's okay.
"They" say a good blogger must blog consistently and often [as in...every day]. Even if it means just posting a quick little thought...a picture...just something. That's not really my style though. There are several contributing factors.
I guess I kinda stand by the philosophy that unless you have something worthwhile to talk about, it's better to not. [Not talk, that is, or in this instance, not write.] I don't like to talk just for the sake of talking, ya know? Well...there's that...and also my counter piled high with a seemingly endless mountain of dishes, my overflowing laundry baskets and constantly supervising my adorable, yet often naughty children; all of which keeps me well occupied for most of the day [and a good portion of the night too].
Actually I have sat down to write several times and ended up deleting what little I had managed to type. I've realized that while my words were honest...I could not yet be as honest as I'd like to be. And while the topic on my heart is significant...God is still teaching me, mending what has been torn and cutting away what is useless.
I'm not a fan of "nice weather" conversations. You know...those awkward surface comments people make when it is obvious that much bigger issues are lingering in the room like dark, heavy clouds. At the same time, I'm far too analytical to simply blurt out my thoughts.
I tend to think, rethink and over-think a conversation, considering as many possible outcomes as I can imagine before it ever begins. Then during and especially after, I often go over each word and concept in my mind, analyzing the tone, the context, facial expressions and body language. It would be a far more logical ritual if I had studied any related sciences...but I haven't. It's all guesswork, really. It is a horribly obnoxious tendency, but also generally useful in many situations...say, this one, for example. It helps me keep my mouth shut more often than I imagine I would otherwise.
All this to say: my heart is heavy. I want to write about it...and I'm pretty sure I will sometime...but not until I am able to sort through it all in my own mind just a bit more, to somehow make sense of the jumbled heap of experiences, emotions and endless questions that infiltrate my thoughts on the matter.
Right now my pondering on the issues is just looming gray clouds threatening to burst. I need something a little more solid...like rain...or better even: hail. Something one can grab onto, something that I can observe. I'd like to see an outcome, an end...to define a point or purpose. For now, I live observing this thick storm cloud, standing beneath it...and wondering what it will inevitably produce.
So...
Please excuse me if I don't bother to write much about the sunshine and warmer temperatures while I wrestle with my thoughts awhile. I am wary of dancing around elephants. But now that I've acknowledged its presence, I think I can carry on as usual, or close to.
Maybe that's okay.
"They" say a good blogger must blog consistently and often [as in...every day]. Even if it means just posting a quick little thought...a picture...just something. That's not really my style though. There are several contributing factors.
I guess I kinda stand by the philosophy that unless you have something worthwhile to talk about, it's better to not. [Not talk, that is, or in this instance, not write.] I don't like to talk just for the sake of talking, ya know? Well...there's that...and also my counter piled high with a seemingly endless mountain of dishes, my overflowing laundry baskets and constantly supervising my adorable, yet often naughty children; all of which keeps me well occupied for most of the day [and a good portion of the night too].
Actually I have sat down to write several times and ended up deleting what little I had managed to type. I've realized that while my words were honest...I could not yet be as honest as I'd like to be. And while the topic on my heart is significant...God is still teaching me, mending what has been torn and cutting away what is useless.
I'm not a fan of "nice weather" conversations. You know...those awkward surface comments people make when it is obvious that much bigger issues are lingering in the room like dark, heavy clouds. At the same time, I'm far too analytical to simply blurt out my thoughts.
I tend to think, rethink and over-think a conversation, considering as many possible outcomes as I can imagine before it ever begins. Then during and especially after, I often go over each word and concept in my mind, analyzing the tone, the context, facial expressions and body language. It would be a far more logical ritual if I had studied any related sciences...but I haven't. It's all guesswork, really. It is a horribly obnoxious tendency, but also generally useful in many situations...say, this one, for example. It helps me keep my mouth shut more often than I imagine I would otherwise.
All this to say: my heart is heavy. I want to write about it...and I'm pretty sure I will sometime...but not until I am able to sort through it all in my own mind just a bit more, to somehow make sense of the jumbled heap of experiences, emotions and endless questions that infiltrate my thoughts on the matter.
Right now my pondering on the issues is just looming gray clouds threatening to burst. I need something a little more solid...like rain...or better even: hail. Something one can grab onto, something that I can observe. I'd like to see an outcome, an end...to define a point or purpose. For now, I live observing this thick storm cloud, standing beneath it...and wondering what it will inevitably produce.
So...
Please excuse me if I don't bother to write much about the sunshine and warmer temperatures while I wrestle with my thoughts awhile. I am wary of dancing around elephants. But now that I've acknowledged its presence, I think I can carry on as usual, or close to.
And with that thought…
Today we played with kittens.
My kids were giddy with delight.
[Except for L., my baby...she wasn't overly impressed with the clawing, crying creatures, and she certainly had no intention of touching one. I can't really blame her though; they did seem a little ferocious.]
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
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
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
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Productivity
One of the perks of vacuuming is that my sweet little L. falls asleep in my arms almost every time. I'm not sure if it's the continuous monotone sound or the motion of me rocking back and forth as I move the machine across the floor...but I LOVE that I can accomplish cleaning and putting my sweet one to sleep all at the same time - woo hoo! Now I'm going to eat a cookie and finish the dishes!
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Gloomy Days and Sunshine
I began a post yesterday...and finished it today. It's kind of a mess of thoughts, but maybe you'll find a gem of encouragement in there somewhere. ;)
It's dark and windy and cold outside - which is fitting.
It's kinda how I've felt inside this morning.
Ever have those mornings when you're just not convinced you really want to even get out of bed?
I woke this morning to my husband inviting me to work out with him. [Uh, thanks...but I'll sleep a little longer.] Then my daughter came in and asked me, "Mom, what should I be doing right now?" [By the way, this is a brilliant question for a three-year-old to ask her mother.] "Color me a picture." [That would keep her busy for a few minutes while I pry myself away from my bed and the warm snuggly baby cuddled up beside me.]
Oatmeal was the unanimous vote for breakfast, and as I leaned against the counter while stirring the bubbling goopy substance [still trying to fully wake myself], I stared deep into the goo...pondering the meaning of life. This is neither profound nor advised - [pondering life while mesmerized by goop].
The baby's monitor hummed beside me on the counter - a high pitched, awful sort of hum - and I realized, "I am in a bad mood".
As I prepared to place breakfast on our table, I opened up the blinds to reveal the dim and dreary light that seemed to slothfully and resentfully creep in through the glass.
Cut to today...
...a whole new day...a new perspective.
Three children crowded on top of us on our bed, bouncing and tickling and shoving and laughing. I handed my husband the baby, then took a few minutes to fix my hair, get dressed and put on a hint of makeup before I tackled the pile of dishes I had intentionally ignored last night, half-wishing they would disappear before morning. [They didn't.]
J. made eggs and toast, we brewed our teas and all sat together for our morning meal. Then, naturally, more dishes followed. *sigh*
My daughter and I sorted through her bin of clothes to grow into, and pulled out a few items which now fit her. My son and J. went to the garage to "organize". [I think that's what they call it when they want to tinker with their tools, but have no specific project in mind.] ;)
Baby started to cry, so here I am nursing her and blogging [Jessie calls it "multi-tasking". ;) ]
Yesterday, I was hoping my ending would present itself throughout the day...that I'd experience some epiphany that would break through my clouded heart. It did not...and I never finished my post.
What actually ended up happening was more subtle and slow and I didn't recognize it until this morning.
I began to consider the perspectives of others. I took the focus off of myself a bit and began to wonder, what does my son need right now, what does my daughter need? And not in my usual way, when I want to hurry up and make everyone happy so that I can finally do what I want to get done.
I decided to evaluate my own "do list" and realized that nothing on it was very important. What is important is honoring the God who created and who sustains me, and loving my husband and my children - and these weren't even on my mental list as a goal for my day. My mental list was full of "things" and tasks that could be accomplished; finished, completed and then checked off the list [only to be quickly replaced with a new and equally insignificant duty].
Seeking the Lord and loving my family cannot be "accomplished", it is ongoing and requires perseverance, endurance and continual dedication. Sometimes it's easy and comes naturally and joyfully - other times, love can only be fueled by determination and a desire to choose what is right over what is comfortable.
So, this morning as the kids clobbered all over us...and I wished I could remember what it is like to sleep in, and wake up to a peaceful quiet, I looked in their eyes and knew that they needed my love, my attention, my play. So, we played. I chose to enjoy their laughter, and chose to let go of my objectives and fill today with enjoying one another.
When I opened up the blinds today...sunshine danced into the room. How fitting!
I'm thankful that His mercies are new each day. I'm thankful for these three beautiful, noisy, busy children that He has given to us. I'm glad for gloomy days and sunshine...and learning how to love.
_________________________________
It's dark and windy and cold outside - which is fitting.
It's kinda how I've felt inside this morning.
Ever have those mornings when you're just not convinced you really want to even get out of bed?
I woke this morning to my husband inviting me to work out with him. [Uh, thanks...but I'll sleep a little longer.] Then my daughter came in and asked me, "Mom, what should I be doing right now?" [By the way, this is a brilliant question for a three-year-old to ask her mother.] "Color me a picture." [That would keep her busy for a few minutes while I pry myself away from my bed and the warm snuggly baby cuddled up beside me.]
Oatmeal was the unanimous vote for breakfast, and as I leaned against the counter while stirring the bubbling goopy substance [still trying to fully wake myself], I stared deep into the goo...pondering the meaning of life. This is neither profound nor advised - [pondering life while mesmerized by goop].
The baby's monitor hummed beside me on the counter - a high pitched, awful sort of hum - and I realized, "I am in a bad mood".
As I prepared to place breakfast on our table, I opened up the blinds to reveal the dim and dreary light that seemed to slothfully and resentfully creep in through the glass.
______________________________
Cut to today...
...a whole new day...a new perspective.
Three children crowded on top of us on our bed, bouncing and tickling and shoving and laughing. I handed my husband the baby, then took a few minutes to fix my hair, get dressed and put on a hint of makeup before I tackled the pile of dishes I had intentionally ignored last night, half-wishing they would disappear before morning. [They didn't.]
J. made eggs and toast, we brewed our teas and all sat together for our morning meal. Then, naturally, more dishes followed. *sigh*
My daughter and I sorted through her bin of clothes to grow into, and pulled out a few items which now fit her. My son and J. went to the garage to "organize". [I think that's what they call it when they want to tinker with their tools, but have no specific project in mind.] ;)
Baby started to cry, so here I am nursing her and blogging [Jessie calls it "multi-tasking". ;) ]
Yesterday, I was hoping my ending would present itself throughout the day...that I'd experience some epiphany that would break through my clouded heart. It did not...and I never finished my post.
What actually ended up happening was more subtle and slow and I didn't recognize it until this morning.
I began to consider the perspectives of others. I took the focus off of myself a bit and began to wonder, what does my son need right now, what does my daughter need? And not in my usual way, when I want to hurry up and make everyone happy so that I can finally do what I want to get done.
I decided to evaluate my own "do list" and realized that nothing on it was very important. What is important is honoring the God who created and who sustains me, and loving my husband and my children - and these weren't even on my mental list as a goal for my day. My mental list was full of "things" and tasks that could be accomplished; finished, completed and then checked off the list [only to be quickly replaced with a new and equally insignificant duty].
Seeking the Lord and loving my family cannot be "accomplished", it is ongoing and requires perseverance, endurance and continual dedication. Sometimes it's easy and comes naturally and joyfully - other times, love can only be fueled by determination and a desire to choose what is right over what is comfortable.
So, this morning as the kids clobbered all over us...and I wished I could remember what it is like to sleep in, and wake up to a peaceful quiet, I looked in their eyes and knew that they needed my love, my attention, my play. So, we played. I chose to enjoy their laughter, and chose to let go of my objectives and fill today with enjoying one another.
When I opened up the blinds today...sunshine danced into the room. How fitting!
I'm thankful that His mercies are new each day. I'm thankful for these three beautiful, noisy, busy children that He has given to us. I'm glad for gloomy days and sunshine...and learning how to love.
Monday, December 13, 2010
My husband titled this story: "What's That Cop Putting In The Back of His Car?!"
I have a great story for you...
One day [about a few weeks ago] I was standing at the stove in my kitchen cleaning up after dinner, when my husband came home. He stood by me and we chatted briefly about the day, then he blurted out that he had seen something strange on his way home that evening. [It was late by now, around 10:30 or 11:00.]
He continued to explain that he had taken a different route than usual to drive home and went along back roads through a wooded area at the base of a mountainside. As he was driving he came up on two vehicles pulled off the side of the road with their headlights pointing toward the ditch. He slowed down as he approached the scene to see if there may have been an accident or something and find out if anyone needed help. It became apparent once he was a little closer that there had not been any accident, but he recognized that one vehicle was a sheriff’s suv...the other was a civilian car. He also saw two men loading something a couple large objects into the back of the sheriff's vehicle.
At this point in his story I stopped him.
"I don't want to hear about it if it was creepy. Please don't tell me if you saw something I won't be able to handle hearing about."
"No. No, it wasn't creepy."
"Ok, what was it?"
The hesitation in his voice and cautious look on his face put me slightly on edge. It's not often that J. appears to be alarmed or shaken by situations. It was apparent that he was uneasy about telling me what he had witnessed. All sorts of thoughts were flying through my head now.
"What?..."
"Well, I don't know if I can even describe it...."
"What did you see?!"
By now I was definitely getting anxious.
"Do you think you need to report something? Was there a crime going on? What was it?!"
J. took a deep breath, then with a sheepish, semi-embarrassed look on his face he gingerly blurted, "The best way I can describe it is that it looked like they were loading two dinosaur eggs into the back of the sheriff’s suv."
*Insert awkward silence here.*
"Um...dinosaur eggs?" I repeated back slightly amused, to ensure I had heard him correctly.
"Well...[now he appeared to feel very ridiculous, but certain of what he had witnessed]...ya...that's what they looked like. Big, giant eggs...and one of them appeared to be cracked."
"Are you serious?" J. doesn't play practical jokes or make up stories...ever. But I do, so I wondered if maybe he was playing around.
He laughed, and emphatically responded, "Yes! I'm serious. I mean, I'm sure that's not what they were, but that's exactly what they looked like."
We stood there trying to read one another's expressions. He seemed to be searching to see if I actually believed him...and I was wondering if he needed to lie down. [haha]
Finally I broke the silence, "Ok."
We agreed that it was an odd thing to see...and pondered what it might have been...then we went to bed.
For the next day or two we joked about his "dinosaur egg sighting".
Fast forward a couple of days. While sharing dinner with my parents at their house, J. and I were telling his “dinosaur egg” story. As J. described the scene and explained that the objects being loaded appeared to be dinosaur eggs, my mom burst out laughing and said, "Oh yes. That was in the news."
"In the news?" I asked.
"Yes, someone had stolen the dinosaur eggs from the playground and they were recently found in that area."
A local park has some replica dinosaur eggs for children to play in, much like these.
We all had to laugh.
My dear husband's dinosaur egg story was accurate after all! I think he was relieved to find out that he had, in fact, seen what he thought he had seen - and felt quite vindicated.
So, the moral of the story is...
If you see dinosaur eggs...don't try to convince yourself you didn't.
And if your husband tells you he saw them...believe him. ;)
One day [about a few weeks ago] I was standing at the stove in my kitchen cleaning up after dinner, when my husband came home. He stood by me and we chatted briefly about the day, then he blurted out that he had seen something strange on his way home that evening. [It was late by now, around 10:30 or 11:00.]
He continued to explain that he had taken a different route than usual to drive home and went along back roads through a wooded area at the base of a mountainside. As he was driving he came up on two vehicles pulled off the side of the road with their headlights pointing toward the ditch. He slowed down as he approached the scene to see if there may have been an accident or something and find out if anyone needed help. It became apparent once he was a little closer that there had not been any accident, but he recognized that one vehicle was a sheriff’s suv...the other was a civilian car. He also saw two men loading something a couple large objects into the back of the sheriff's vehicle.
At this point in his story I stopped him.
"I don't want to hear about it if it was creepy. Please don't tell me if you saw something I won't be able to handle hearing about."
"No. No, it wasn't creepy."
"Ok, what was it?"
The hesitation in his voice and cautious look on his face put me slightly on edge. It's not often that J. appears to be alarmed or shaken by situations. It was apparent that he was uneasy about telling me what he had witnessed. All sorts of thoughts were flying through my head now.
"What?..."
"Well, I don't know if I can even describe it...."
"What did you see?!"
By now I was definitely getting anxious.
"Do you think you need to report something? Was there a crime going on? What was it?!"
J. took a deep breath, then with a sheepish, semi-embarrassed look on his face he gingerly blurted, "The best way I can describe it is that it looked like they were loading two dinosaur eggs into the back of the sheriff’s suv."
*Insert awkward silence here.*
"Um...dinosaur eggs?" I repeated back slightly amused, to ensure I had heard him correctly.
"Well...[now he appeared to feel very ridiculous, but certain of what he had witnessed]...ya...that's what they looked like. Big, giant eggs...and one of them appeared to be cracked."
"Are you serious?" J. doesn't play practical jokes or make up stories...ever. But I do, so I wondered if maybe he was playing around.
He laughed, and emphatically responded, "Yes! I'm serious. I mean, I'm sure that's not what they were, but that's exactly what they looked like."
We stood there trying to read one another's expressions. He seemed to be searching to see if I actually believed him...and I was wondering if he needed to lie down. [haha]
Finally I broke the silence, "Ok."
We agreed that it was an odd thing to see...and pondered what it might have been...then we went to bed.
For the next day or two we joked about his "dinosaur egg sighting".
Fast forward a couple of days. While sharing dinner with my parents at their house, J. and I were telling his “dinosaur egg” story. As J. described the scene and explained that the objects being loaded appeared to be dinosaur eggs, my mom burst out laughing and said, "Oh yes. That was in the news."
"In the news?" I asked.
"Yes, someone had stolen the dinosaur eggs from the playground and they were recently found in that area."
A local park has some replica dinosaur eggs for children to play in, much like these.
We all had to laugh.
My dear husband's dinosaur egg story was accurate after all! I think he was relieved to find out that he had, in fact, seen what he thought he had seen - and felt quite vindicated.
So, the moral of the story is...
If you see dinosaur eggs...don't try to convince yourself you didn't.
And if your husband tells you he saw them...believe him. ;)
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
IRL
I just learned something new. You probably already know this - I'm often waaaay behind on things like this, but IRL is often used online, and it means "in real life".
As I discovered this today, I was struck by the realization that we need to clarify between "real life" and "cyber space" in our online communication, as though we live two differing realities. We experience "real life" with the people around us in day to day activities. They see us as we actually are - or at least clearer than those we interact with "virtually". It's easier to portray ourselves as something better, smarter, prettier, funnier, kinder, more organized and a little less real through the internet.
I've seen people leave comments such as, "I know [so and so] IRL, as [he/she] really is a great person!" It's as though we assume most people are lying to us about who they are online...and we create a bustle of thrilled internal applause when it is revealed that "so and so" is truly reflecting his or her self accurately.
As though our lives are not compartmentalized enough - many of us have two separate identities. It’s the saga of WWW vs. IRL.
Let me just clarify a few things about myself, so that there are no major surprises about my own IRL identity. I'm sure even unintentionally I have painted a better image of myself that what truth would reflect. I like to share about the happy and fun and brilliant moments I have...which may be why my posts are few and far between...ha - a lack of brilliant moments. But why share the hard...and ugly...and blah??? First of all - who wants to read about blah...and second, who wants to share the "blah" about themselves? Not me. But here is my reality.
I am a Christian who struggles with making God-honoring decisions everyday.I am impatient with my children at times. I am judgmental in my thoughts about others. I am selfish in my relationship with my husband.
Some days I don't bother to shower...or even change out of my pajamas. Other days I spend far too much time concerned with my appearance.
I am a woman who feels "unlovely" sometimes. I am a grown-up who feels unsure and frightened sometimes.
I speak out when I should just listen. I’ve pretended not to see or hear my children fighting - because I don't want to deal with it. I've burned dinner. [And sometimes we eat cereal for dinner.] I forget ingredients when I bake. I'm often late to everything. I don't clean my bathroom until guests come over. I do not have it all together - I probably don't even have it mostly together. I fail daily in many different ways.
So, if you read my posts and have a rose-colored image of me...go ahead and dispose of that now. IRL, I'm not much different than you. [In fact, I'm probably not as interesting, smart, thoughtful or fun as you are.] I'm just a somebody, sharing stories about the life God has given me, and the experiences He has allowed me to go through. I am blessed. But I also live in the reality of this life...which is imperfect...and my "RL" reflects that. I hope my “WWW” reflects that too.
So there you have it.
No "WWW" or "IRL"...I'm just me. And somehow God uses my life to reflect His beauty - despite my imperfections, and failures. I am so thankful for forgiveness, grace and love.
As I discovered this today, I was struck by the realization that we need to clarify between "real life" and "cyber space" in our online communication, as though we live two differing realities. We experience "real life" with the people around us in day to day activities. They see us as we actually are - or at least clearer than those we interact with "virtually". It's easier to portray ourselves as something better, smarter, prettier, funnier, kinder, more organized and a little less real through the internet.
I've seen people leave comments such as, "I know [so and so] IRL, as [he/she] really is a great person!" It's as though we assume most people are lying to us about who they are online...and we create a bustle of thrilled internal applause when it is revealed that "so and so" is truly reflecting his or her self accurately.
As though our lives are not compartmentalized enough - many of us have two separate identities. It’s the saga of WWW vs. IRL.
Let me just clarify a few things about myself, so that there are no major surprises about my own IRL identity. I'm sure even unintentionally I have painted a better image of myself that what truth would reflect. I like to share about the happy and fun and brilliant moments I have...which may be why my posts are few and far between...ha - a lack of brilliant moments. But why share the hard...and ugly...and blah??? First of all - who wants to read about blah...and second, who wants to share the "blah" about themselves? Not me. But here is my reality.
I am a Christian who struggles with making God-honoring decisions everyday.I am impatient with my children at times. I am judgmental in my thoughts about others. I am selfish in my relationship with my husband.
Some days I don't bother to shower...or even change out of my pajamas. Other days I spend far too much time concerned with my appearance.
I am a woman who feels "unlovely" sometimes. I am a grown-up who feels unsure and frightened sometimes.
I speak out when I should just listen. I’ve pretended not to see or hear my children fighting - because I don't want to deal with it. I've burned dinner. [And sometimes we eat cereal for dinner.] I forget ingredients when I bake. I'm often late to everything. I don't clean my bathroom until guests come over. I do not have it all together - I probably don't even have it mostly together. I fail daily in many different ways.
So, if you read my posts and have a rose-colored image of me...go ahead and dispose of that now. IRL, I'm not much different than you. [In fact, I'm probably not as interesting, smart, thoughtful or fun as you are.] I'm just a somebody, sharing stories about the life God has given me, and the experiences He has allowed me to go through. I am blessed. But I also live in the reality of this life...which is imperfect...and my "RL" reflects that. I hope my “WWW” reflects that too.
So there you have it.
No "WWW" or "IRL"...I'm just me. And somehow God uses my life to reflect His beauty - despite my imperfections, and failures. I am so thankful for forgiveness, grace and love.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Update
We have finished moving in to the new place.
We are not really settled...but I think it will take awhile.
I did learn a few things these last several weeks, as I packed and moved and cleaned, which I will share with you.
*ahem*
1. I am much braver when I am equipped with a nice pair of rubber gloves.
2. When you neglect to provide your body adequate rest, it shuts down for you...regardless of what activity you were determined to accomplish.
3. While chocolate truffles can not completely solve all problems, they do provide temporary, but delightful, stress relief for a wide variety of ailments, both physical and emotional.
I have more to share...but need to go hunt for my pots and pans...I think one more meal of bananas, nuts and cold cereal for dinner will drive me to eat a truffle. :)
We are not really settled...but I think it will take awhile.
I did learn a few things these last several weeks, as I packed and moved and cleaned, which I will share with you.
*ahem*
1. I am much braver when I am equipped with a nice pair of rubber gloves.
2. When you neglect to provide your body adequate rest, it shuts down for you...regardless of what activity you were determined to accomplish.
3. While chocolate truffles can not completely solve all problems, they do provide temporary, but delightful, stress relief for a wide variety of ailments, both physical and emotional.
I have more to share...but need to go hunt for my pots and pans...I think one more meal of bananas, nuts and cold cereal for dinner will drive me to eat a truffle. :)
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
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.]
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.]
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?
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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.]
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...
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Did you guess?
Come on just take a guess...
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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.
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