Comfort and Gratitude

The devotional I read this morning included the scriptures from Psalm 100:1-5. It has the verse many of us know..."enter his gates with Thanksgiving, and his courts with praise, give thanks and praise his name." But the verse before that really struck me and it was one of those "I don't even remember ever reading that" moments. It says this:

"Know that the Lord is God, it is he who made us, and we are his, we are his people, the sheep of his pasture."(Ps. 100:3)

I read an article last night about Christmas shopping trends. Last year, it was all about the insta-pot. This year, everyone is clamoring for the gift of "cozy." People are googling "comfy sweatshirt," "cozy, soft blanket," "fleece-lined jacket," and something called an "angel coat." 

The world is chaotic right now (if you haven't noticed). The big, wide world is full of raging fires, senseless gun violence, wars, famine, human trafficking, hateful and graceless politics, and internet trolls who crush souls and build up walls, just to pick a few examples. Our small, personal worlds can be chaotic, painful, uncertain too. Insert -- marriage struggles, uncomfortable family dynamics, money trouble, unruly kids, illness, death and loss, other challenges --here.  

People are yearning for cozy. For comfort. Something to soothe and to calm.  Maybe if we can cuddle on the couch near the fire under a soft, shirpa lined blankie, the trials of this world will still, just for a moment. And they might. And they do sometimes. 

For me, the morning reminder that the God I serve has it all under control, and that I am his, brings comfort and immense gratitude. The comparison of God's people to the "sheep of his pasture" is well known to many believers, but it is a powerful reminder on Thanksgiving Day. We are cherished. We are protected, we are led. 

Even for those who have wandered away, the Bible says that God leaves the 99 to seek out that one. I recall the moments, and seasons in my life when I knew I had wandered, and I acutely felt God's pursuit of me and his love. It's humbling to think of those days and I'm so thankful for them. 

I'm of course thankful for the things you'd expect someone to be thankful for today (so long as they're true). Marriage to a guy I love and who loves me. Kids, family, food to eat and a roof over our heads. I have a job I enjoy and believe in. We have good coffee every morning. :) 

But one thing I can be truly thankful for today, that is true whatever our circumstances, is this..I can "know that the Lord is God, it is he who made us, and we are his, we are his people, the sheep of his pasture." 

40 Days of Easter - Using Lent to Re-Focus the Greatest Season

I grew up in the church early on but our family stopped attending while I was still in elementary school.  Because of this, I have very few memories of Easter as a “spiritual” holiday.  It was a day for Easter dresses and bonnets, crochet handbags and baskets filled with chocolate bunnies and brightly colored jelly beans.  We would decorate eggs and hunt for them in the backyard, and we would eat ham and scalloped potatoes for our mid-day meal. 

Truth is, that is very similar to the way we do Easter now in our home.  Trade in the girly stuff (I had two sisters) for pastel plaid button-ups and cargo shorts worn by by my three boys and the rest is pretty darn close.  The difference is that I am married to a pastor, and we should know better. 

At Christmas, it is easy to associate that day with Jesus – even for those who don’t believe in Him at all.  Despite the over-materialism of Black Friday and the hustle and bustle in the malls, and the Christmas lights and Santa Claus on every corner, despite what some might call the “war on Christmas,” the Christmas season is still fairly rooted in the manger.  We decorate with nativity scenes that portray the story, we see Christmas cards with shining stars leading men on camel-back.  Here in the States, one can still hear the faint sound of songs like “Silent Night” and “Away in a Manger” while shopping the produce aisle at the local grocery store. 

As a mom of three sons, ages ranging from kindergarten to 8^th grade, I find that I sort of have Christmas down.  We have our advent calendars and the “Best Christmas Pageant Ever” book and the songs and the Christmas story to read out of the bible.  I don’t feel as prepared to teach Easter to my kids.  The Christmas season is a month of fun and contemplation but Easter is often relegated to one weekend. 

This year, I hope to bring Easter back.  I plan to do a modified Lent with my kids.  

Lent at it’s worst can be part of a legalistic and works based means of following Christ.  It can be a motivator to diet or to overcome a vice, with no real desire to grow nearer to God or to reflect on His goodness.  It can be an excuse to head to New Orleans for some muffaletta and “all bets are off” partying for Mardi Gras. 

At it’s best, it is can provide a season of anticipation.   It is a time to fast, to pray and to give alms.  It follows the rich tradition of 40.  Forty days of Christ’s temptation and fast in the wilderness to focus his heart on the truth of Scripture and the power of God before his ministry began on earth.  Forty years of wandering by the Israelites as they learned and re-learned the power, the provision and the almighty Kingship of Yahweh.  Forty days on the mountain for Moses, as he sat in the presence of God and received the commands that would set the Jewish people apart as a nation belonging to Him. 

Lent sets aside 40 days in which we can focus on spiritual disciplines that will ultimately prepare our hearts for Easter, the most pivotal moment in human history and the cornerstone of the Christian faith.  Without Easter we are all lost.  If Christ died on the cross and never rose, we are to be “pitied” more than any other as we worship a dead God.  But we don’t. 

Here are some spiritual disciplines our family will exercise , which will hopefully help bring the Easter season into focus in our home and hearts:

1.     Fasting– there are many examples of fasting in scripture.  Fasting sometimes worked for me and sometimes didn’t.  When I was young and in college I fasted more – mostly because I could do it in secret – as a mom of three it is harder to fast.  It also gets my blood sugar low and I can be a cranky mom which isn’t always honoring to God.  Hunger pangs would remind me that I was weak, and I would pray every time I felt hungry.  As a first-world American, hunger pangs would also remind me of the blessing and gift that food is.  It would remind me of my humanness and in contrast, God’s bigness and His might.  

Fasting doesn’t just have to be giving up food.  It can be sacrificing or giving something up that is important to you.  Examples might be: sweets, video games, smoking, television or time surfing the Internet.  I know people who gave up 10 minutes of sleep each day of lent, waking earlier and spending that extra time in prayer and thanks to God.  Last year I asked my boys what they wanted to give up for lent.  The oldest said “homework.”  The middle said “vegetables.”  And my youngest (a sugar addict) said “candy!”  At least one out of three understood the concept of sacrifice that I was getting at!  I laughed, but when we give things up with selfish motives (because we don’t actually like those things or we want to lose weight…) we miss the point.  When we give something up we also experience the abundance that is in our lives and the gifts that God pours out. This season, we will give opportunities to our kids to learn the importance of sacrifice and fasting and to participate in those things. 

2.     Prayer– Prayer might be a no-brainer, but it is so hard for some of us to talk with God and listen for His voice on a regular basis!    I believe God is honored and blessed when we come before him and expect him to listen.  In John 10:27, scripture tells us that his sheep (that’s us!) hear his voice.  It may come in a burning bush (like Moses) or a whisper in the wind (like Elijah) or in a sign (like Gideon).  It could be a still small voice in your spirit or through godly counsel of a friend.  It could be through nature.  God does speak to us and when we pray, we often become more receptive to His voice and more aware of it when it comes.  I find that when I spend time in prayer and then look out at the stars, I will recognize his majesty and perhaps his voice saying (as in the Rich Mullens song paraphrased) “one star has been lit for you.”  If I am not praying and my focus is on human things, human endeavors, lifting myself up by my bootstraps and running the treadmill that can be life, I might miss those moments. 

      

      The bible also tells us that God hears us.  (1 John 5:14) We can go to him with confidence and trust that He loves us and is interested in us.  He might not answer every prayer with a resounding yes (although our football team DID win the superbowl this year….) but he hears us.  God is not a genie in a bottle that will grant our every wish, but he does hear us.  And I believe as we trust him and share with him and even (gasp!) wrestle with him when we disagree with the way things unfold in life, we can grow nearer to Him and begin to resemble the kind of people he calls us to be. 

     

      Here is what I want to teach my kids:  Prayer is talking with and hearing from God.  During Lent, taking time to pray will bring the God of the Universe into better focus.  It can remind us of His glory, His might, His goodness and mercy.  It can remind us that we are small in His shadow, and yet still He loves us.  It can bring Him nearer to us and make him more personal – then when we look at the life of Christ and His mission on earth, and his ultimate sacrifice played out in the Easter story, it has more gravity and more dimension.  Our kids are growing up in an age where every movie comes out in a 3D version.  Every instagram photo and video upload using a GoPro shows them the big world is REAL and allows them to experience it beyond simple words on a page.  Prayer brings God to life.   And a living, active, engaging, personal and real God is crucial to helping set the stage for your kids of the greatest story ever told.

3.     Alms giving – Our culture has no problem associating gift giving and helping the poor with Christmas.  In order to prevent spoiled children, we often have them clean out their toy bin in preparation for “Santa’s” arrival (if you let “Santa” in your home!).  We donate those toys to the toy drive.  The schools collect canned goods and the local soup kitchen serves ham and turkey dinners.  As Christian parents, we tell our kids that we give gifts at Christmas time because God first gave the gift of his son, baby Jesus, to us.  We celebrate that gift by in turn, giving to others.  In order to balance out the materialism of Black Friday through the week-after Christmas clearance sales, we make sure we are donating our time and belongings to those who are less fortunate.  This helps our kids, and us, keep some perspective and gratitude. 

When I was online researching Lent (I did not grow up Catholic so was starting from scratch in the research department) and found “alms-giving” to be a common element of the 40-day spiritual preparation for Easter, I sort of had a “duh” moment.   I mean, isn’t Easter part 2 of the best gift ever?  Baby Jesus is actually a terrible gift all on his own.  It would be like giving my kid a remote-control helicopter but not giving him the remote.  For the gift of “God becomes flesh” to be the best gift ever, first we have to wait 30 plus years for him to finish living out his life here on earth and then die and raise to life again.  Until the Easter story happens we are all just caught in a cycle of sin and death and Christianity isn’t even a legitimate faith.  The deity of Christ is central to our faith and His death and resurrection gives credibility to His claims of it.  The greatest gift ever is that Christ came (Christmas)….to die (Good Friday) and conquer sin and death (Easter) that we now might also have fullness of life here on Earth and later in heaven.  We all really needed that of God, and He gave it.   Wouldn’t Easter season be the perfect time to give gifts to others, and especially to the neediest of us all? 

Putting emphasis on giving to others during the lent season sheds a greater light on the gift that is Easter.  It helps us tell the story to our kids in the same way that it helps us tell the Christmas story to them.  It makes the story complete.  If my son opened up the remote-control helicopter and asked what was so cool about it, I would have to also give him the remote.  On it’s own it is okay but with the remote, it can fly!  In the next 40 days our family will look for ways to help others.  Again, the purpose of lent isn’t to add more “spiritual stuff” to our already full plate.  It is to bring clarity and sharper focus to the Easter story. 

By the time our 40 days are up, my prayer is that our family knows God more, feels grateful for Christ’s act on the cross (and maybe even feel the sacrifice more acutely), and then on Easter morning, we can celebrate with more enthusiasm and a greater understanding of why and what and WHO we celebrate. 

Happy Lent, everyone!

**I am in the process of writing an actual devotional for families on the Lent/Easter Season.  Please be kind, and do not borrow from this post for any officially published works!  I kindly thank you!  

The Lessons I Never Learn

I wrote out my New Years Resolutions on January 5th.  Thankfully, "Stop Procrastinating" was not one of them.

I started off my list by basically cutting and pasting from the following year.  Drink more water, wash my face every day, eat healthier, sleep more, read some books, read my Bible consistently. Every one of those resolutions was a resolution for 2013 and would have made for a healthier year had I actually adhered to them.  And yet, 2013 ended up looking a little more like this: watch more netflix, use facebook more, eat Trader Joe's dips and crackers consistently, stay up too late, drink more (like, way more) coffee, wash face sporadically.  I did read some books though - I am very consistent there.  I don't know why it is so difficult for me, and for many of us, to do things that are good for us.  We all know exercise is good and that we feel good when we have discipline and our hard work pays off in toned arms and smaller muffin tops over our jeans.  We know that healthy eating and proper hydration makes us less tired and our skin look better and our lives probably longer.  And yet I fail to do these things again and again.  Why?

I think New Year's Resolutions must be going out of style.  Or at least it is not popular to admit to having them.  Ryan asked the church congregation yesterday who had made resolutions for 2014 and about 5% of the people raised their hands.  I am curious why that is?  Have we lost faith in ourselves that we can follow through?  Are we too busy to set new goals?  Do we all have "bucket lists" now that are good for an entire lifespan, making yearly goals unnecessary?

For me, part of the problem is that I am a staunch rule follower.  The only rules I ever feel I can break without getting into trouble are my own rules.  Which might be why, yesterday after penning the words "Eat Healthier" in my journal, I ate a bowl of nachos for the first time in many years and ate 4 chocolate chip cookies.

As a resolution - maker I am really terrible.  Despite this, I have had some great years.  2013 was a great year.  Ups and downs of course, but with fun, active, smart and compassionate boys and a loving husband who I am blessed to share my life with.  We had some great adventures and I trust we have more to come.  The New Year is a time to make those breakable resolutions but also a time to reflect and set goals of character and of how to we want to live as individuals and as a family.  Healthy eating, yes.  But I pray that in 2014 I also get a healthy dose of humility and reminders of how I can grow in grace towards others.

I hope that we don't set resolutions or that we break them because they aren't things that really matter.  I hope they are lessons we don't really need to learn.  And I hope that the things that do matter, are the things that stick this year - the goals and the plans that God has for my life.  I trust that He is better at following through than I am anyways.  Happy New Year!

The Lazy Elf: Finally Jumping on the Elf on the Shelf Bandwagon

I didn't really know that the Elf on the Shelf was a thing that lots of people did until this year.  I had seen the books at the store and an occasional post on Facebook by my friends who I deem "super-parents" (in a very positive way!).  I had seen a few fun ideas on Pinterest of the Elf fishing in the toilet or making snow angels in a pile of powdered sugar.  But I honestly had no idea that the Elf was so mainstream.  Until this year.  The year my youngest started Kindergarten.

This has been my "Elf" journey to date: A few days after Thanksgiving break, Ben came home and said "A lot of my friends have real elves in their houses.  They do funny things.  If you touch them they lose their magic.  But you can talk to them.  They make sure you are good for Santa."  Huh.  Cool, I said.  And figured that was the end of it.

Then day after day, Ben came home talking about the "elf" and what it was up to at his friend's houses and that he was sure he was around our home too.  Yesterday, while brushing his teeth, Ben said "this toothpaste tastes funny.  My friend told his elf to come to our house.  I bet he did and the elf messed with my toothpaste."  And that is when I caved.

All debates about "lying" to our kids vs. encouraging healthy imaginations and belief in "magic" aside, I do think the Elf on the Shelf is a cute idea.  I never outright told my kids that Santa was not real, but I never really worked hard to dupe them either.  I asked my older boys this morning (when little guy was out of the room) when they stopped believing in Santa.  They both basically said it just crept up on them and they never had a moment when they were traumatized or felt like they had been lied to.  Phew.  Of course, the older two never believed in the Elf on the Shelf.  (a quick note...I tried to tell Ben that the Elf is a toy and that other families pretend to have an elf and it is fun but just using imaginations...he looked at me like I was nuts. "Mom, they are real elves." And I refuse to be the Mom on Miracle on 34th street who forces her child to not believe).

We don't have the 30 dollars to spend on the little elf doll, and I bet there are other families out there who don't either (or who prefer to spend it another way).  So the older boys and I put our heads together and came up with some ways to do a little "Elf Magic" without a lot of money or fuss.  I made a little list of our ideas - all of which are pretty easy and don't require an actual doll.  Plus a couple bonus ideas for those who have the doll and don't feel up to being creative every single day.  I mean, "Elf" success in the home is directly related to the creativity and energy of the parent, as well as the imagination and willingness of the child to have fun and go with the flow when needed.  I really love seeing the fun things some parents come up with - but this list is for the rest of us.

Lazy and "NO ELF" ideas.
1. Our elf first officially made his debut today, 6 days before Christmas.  (Anyone can be creative for 6 days, right?)
2.  Our elf will return to the North Pole on the night before Christmas Eve.  He will leave a note for Ben to find the morning of the 24th saying "Heading back...great job being good! I had fun spreading Christmas cheer at your house but now it is up to you!  And remember the true source of Christmas joy is Jesus - the baby born for all of us, who we celebrate this season."
3. Our elf has help from the 11 and 13 year olds in my home.  This makes things MUCH easier for Mom and Dad.
4. He will be toilet papering the tree, drawing a red nose on the kid in the middle of the night, and wrapping the toilet in wrapping paper - but will never be seen.  
5. His "grand finale" will be on December 23rd but we have yet to determine what that will be.  The 13 year old wants to wrap our entire house in tinsel...
6. If you have an elf but need a few days off, leave a note like this: "Dear (kid), there's been an emergency at the North Pole - be back in a few days!  (from your Elf).
7. Another good one: after some high-wire shenanigan like toilet papering the tree or hanging paper snowflakes from the chandelier, set your elf on the shelf with a cast on his/her leg and a note "Doc says I need to stay put for a bit...will be up and around again in a day/week/month! (depending on how ambitious you are/aren't feeling).
8.  Two very baaaad ideas that my older boys think are good ideas: Draw a chalk outline of an elf on the ground with some caution tape.  Or, have someone say, "I think I just flushed an elf down the toilet..."
9. If you want an elf but can't afford one, use a different elf - one you make or get at the dollar tree and tell your kids "if all the elves looked alike, what fun would that be?" Or borrow an elf while he is on vacation or sick leave from another kid's house.  Or be creative and do the "Bear on the Stairs" or the "Doll in the Hall" (although those sound a little creepy to me..).
10.  Don't overthink if you don't want to.  Go crazy overboard if you want to.  A friend wrote on my FB post where I was debating "To Elf or Not to Elf" that 'the world gets harsh soon enough, let him enjoy the wonder!'

The Light at the End of the Tunnel Came Early

Thirteen and a half years ago, on March 4, 2000, I began to look for the light at the end of the tunnel.  That was the day that my oldest son was born.

I did not have dreams of motherhood as a young girl.  I really never thought I would be a mom, until I met and fell in love with my future husband.  Ryan loves kids and when I married him, I figured kids might be a part of a package deal.  They were.  God has a sense of humor or he likes to teach us lessons, or both.  I found out our oldest was on the way just shy of our second anniversary, and about 3 years earlier than I had planned for.  To top it off he was a premie by 5 weeks - I was robbed of 5 entire weeks of non-motherhood!

I did mothering by the book.  Really, by the book.  "What to expect when you are expecting" got replaced on the shelf by "what to expect in the first year..." I read it faithfully, but my heart was rarely in the game.  I felt like this little guy had stolen me from myself and replaced me with a milk factory and a nanny-housekeeper.  I loved him and cared for him, but deep down and sometimes very openly would talk about the "light at the end of the tunnel."  The day I would send him off to school or that he would fly from the nest and let me be..

When boy 2 arrived on the scene two and a half years later, I still had not quite gotten the "mommy" thing down.  Boy 2 had cholic.  He was intense and sensitive and cried a LOT.  If I was merely bored at this point of playing on the playground and pushing cars around with my two year old, the boredom was now quickly replaced by despair and borderline insanity.  But this too shall pass, I thought.  I received two pieces of advice on a regular basis - one - that this crazy baby-toddler-diaper-food on the ceiling stage would go quickly and before I know it life will be easier!  The light at the end of the tunnel...  The other advice I received was that it would go quickly, therefore I should slow down and enjoy my kids while they are little and not wish their littleness away...I didn't really believe or take either completely to heart.

Boy 3 (Benny) changed all that for me.  It is sad to admit but I think I wasn't 100% mom to all three of our boys until the day Ben was born.  Ian was nearly five and Isaac was 7.  I held Ben in my arms (he was also premature and lived in NICU for 21 days) and realized that the other two were no longer babies.  It donned on me finally, that time keeps moving forward and the boys will never grow younger.  I enjoyed every stage that Ben went through.  When he was one, Ian started kindergarten, and that began five years of me and Ben at home while the other two were in school.  I became very involved in the boy's school that year and took personal interest in each of them.  I began praying daily that I would see the passions and talents of each boy and help to cultivate those in them.  Even though sometimes exhausted and bored, and occasionally wondering about that elusive "light," I also stopped seeing motherhood as a "time-out" from my real life that would somehow resume once the kids were out of the house.  I embraced it as the life that God has given me and the charge I have to nurture and love these boys.

I write today, because tomorrow Benny starts full day kindergarten.  This is the day, the one I have been waiting for - 13 1/2 years of waiting!  It is supposed to be my light at the end of the tunnel.  The pay-off for all that hard mommy work.  I joked today that I was heading straight to the store tomorrow to buy bon-bons (if that is outdated then Ben and Jerry's!) and then taking a nap.  Okay, I really might do that.  But one thing has hit me hard this week.  My kids were all born early.  And I think my light at the end of the tunnel also came early for me.  I think it came 6 years ago, when Benny came into this world. I began to really see my boys.  Loud and whiny, rock throwing and dog hugging, wrestling and wall climbing, homework frustration and Christmas morning anticipation, legos on the stairs, and the toilet seat up, the army guy frozen in a cup of water in the freezer..teen angst, slammed doors, RV trips and fishing for hours, kissing boo boos and pulling my hair out in frustration...always something funny to post on facebook...This is the good life - even the annoying and tiring parts of it.

 I wish we could all figure that out the day our first child comes home.  Some do, but I know I did not.  This post isn't about how I am JUST now getting it, because despite my posts about wanting to sell our children, they are in jest (mostly) and I have spent the last 6 years enjoying them.  Tomorrow isn't the light, but it also isn't the end.  This train just keeps moving and I will hopefully appreciate all the scenery along the way!  (Benny good luck tomorrow - I love you sweetie. )

Hedonism for the Introvert

I am an extreme introvert, which could also just be my physiological and psychological excuse for being an anti-social recluse-monestary-living wannabe who is afraid of public failure and would prefer to keep her nose in a book at all times.  But I really think it is just that God created me to be an introvert.  As an introvert, every time I interact with people, it has to make sense.  It has to have a purpose or else it is sucking me dry of all my energy for no good reason.  As an introverted pastor's wife, I won't lie...it can be a challenge.  I often make a bee-line for the ladies room as soon as service is over.  One, because coffee before church equals the need to make a beeline for the ladies room.  Two, because I can hide for a few minutes and pull myself together before going out to "mingle" with people.

I will write more about this later, as I happen to be reading an excellent book titled "Introverts in the Church" lent to me by a fellow introvert.

Today I want to write a bit about the last two days and my Introverted Recovery and Detox.  You see, I also have low blood sugar.  If any of you have low blood sugar issues you know that when your blood sugar dips, you get jittery, anxious, spacey and may possibly lose some coherency and some social skills to boot.  An introvert on people-overload looks a lot like someone with low blood sugar.  And there are times when it gets extreme.  Ryan was out of the country for two weeks and when he returned and went back to work, our kids went on Spring Break.  I was on stimulus Overdose.  Sometimes I calmly ask for an hour or two "time-out" in my room or to go on a walk...other times I demand that they all leave town.  Thankfully God gave me three boys so I can suggest "wouldn't a boy's weekend be fun?"  But usually I have lost all social skills when it gets really bad and I can't utter a complete sentence therefore it comes out more like..."go.now.must. sleep..."

So I sent them away for two days.  And this is what I did:  Yesterday I ate Ben and Jerry's chocolate brownie ice cream while looking at a facebook post about how nobody ever regrets eating healthy.  This was at breakfast.  I chain-watched movies on netflix until I found a new TV series to chain-watch on netflix.  I wore my pajamas all day.  I ate carrots out of a bag and crackers with my favorite dip for lunch and dinner.  I didn't do dishes or laundry or vacuum or run errands or talk on the phone or even email.  I did whatever I wanted.  Whatever felt good at the time.  As an introvert I felt better and better as yesterday went by and had no human interaction.  From time to time the thought hit me that Ryan is preaching on Hedonism this Sunday - the pursuit of pleasure over all else.  I sort of laughed about the irony while eating my chips and salsa and drinking coffee at 10 pm last night.  By 2 am I finally willed my slightly addictive-personality self to turn off the computer and admit that I cannot watch 100 episodes of this show in one night...I woke up to a silent house.  And it was really nice.

As an introvert I need those times of recovery and the permission to do nothing.  By this morning, while I was tired from staying up all night, I was also refreshed.  I walked around the house, opening windows.  I turned on itunes to my favorite worship music and started making french macarons (which if you know anything about french macarons you know this is NOT hedonism but more a form of masochism...trust me they are harder than they look).

My rested ears, which had not listened to kids or teachers or neighbors or anyone else for 24 hours was struck by the phrase "avalanche of grace..." in the song that was playing.  I sat down heavily and for the next hour listened to God's voice speaking to me and filling the hollowness of my soul.  Sound cheesy?  I doubt any honest person would say they don't know what I mean.  A day of living completely for myself left me feeling empty.

I still feel I need that alone time.  And truth be told, my hand is held up to God sometimes too..."wait...please...let me sit in silence" I say to Him.  I felt His grace this  morning - as if he was just sitting in the corner watching me do my thing.  And then when all the noise was cleared out, when I was no longer the overwhelmed introvert with no capacity to let anything else in, then He joined me.

It felt good yesterday to empty myself out.  And then it also felt good to know I am not the center of all things and my life and pleasures is not all there is.  I don't think my relationship with God is as rich when I don't pull back at times.  A little **hedonism can go a long way.

(ps I am using the term very lightly here...not a theology or psych paper or an endorsement...) :)

Traveller's Tree: the yearly tradition of hanging our ornaments

When I was a kid, I collected teddy bears.  Once family got wind of it, I was the lucky recipient of stuffed teddy bears, teddy bear blankets, teddy bear figurines, teddy bear mugs.  When I left for college I had a lot of bears to pack up.  I think I gave most of them away, save for a few select bears that are stored away for my grandkids.

In High School, I collected Goofy (from Disney) items.  Goofy baseball hat, Goofy t-shirt, Goofy slippers, Goofy telephone.  I still have the slippers.

Collections can be fun, they can give a person a sort of "mission" in which they are always on the hunt for something to add.  They can also be expensive, take up too much room, and give too many well-meaning relatives a reason to add less-desirable items to your shelves.

As a family who like to travel, we notice a lot of traveller collector items.  Early in our marriage, Ryan and I needed to make the important decision..."what do we collect on our travels?"  In every airport and gift shop in the world, there are plenty of options - sweatshirts, hats, silver spoons, snow globes, and little figures.  There is local handiwork, wines, jewelry, patches, pins, foodstuffs.  And of course, the shot glass.  What to do?  After retiring my bear and Goofy collections for good, I really wasn't ready for anything big or clutter-adding.  So we came up with the idea of collecting Christmas tree ornaments.

This has become one of my most favorite traditions of the season.  Ornaments are small, get packed up for eleven months a year, and serve a very practical purpose for the month of December.  Everyone needs something to hang on their tree, and these ornaments provide a large amount of nostalgia to go with their practicality.

Every year, as we decorate our tree, Ryan, the boys and I talk about the stories that go along with each ornament we hang.

We have an ornament from San Francisco Ry and I got on our first anniversary trip.  We have Yellowstone, and the Grand Tetons, one from a lodge we stayed at in Washington State.  Leavenworth, the Grand Canyon, Washington DC, Durango, and the Redwood Forest.  We have a glass bell from Petra, Jordan and a beautiful camel ornament from Cairo.  Florida was ba-humbug the year we were there, so we have a giant sand-dollar we found on the beach, tied up with ribbon and hung on the tree each year.

When Ryan travels alone he brings home ornaments so we can somehow relive his memories with him.  Places like Sweden, Norway, South Africa, Uganda, Tanzania, Venezuela, and Bosnia.  In Greece, the first time there we couldn't find an ornament so we bought a little clay pot to hang.  Our second time, we were there in November and found a hand-painted ornament to add to our collection.  Of course we have our olive wood ornaments bought in Bethlehem (we love cliches in our family).

No town or trip is too small or too big for us.  We pick up ornaments on road trips as well as missions trips, anniversary trips, and bigger family vacations (like Maui).  We are a blessed family to be sure.  Ryan and I made the decision early on to value travel and experience over stuff, and we have been lucky enough to have those experiences on a fairly modest income (by US standards, large by the rest of the world).

Christmas is such a fun time to celebrate memories and traditions.  Some of our ornaments are not from our travels, but are still meaningful - the photo ornaments of the kids with Santa over the years, the ornament Ryan gave me on one of our first ever "dates" back in college.  The first year of marriage ornaments and the "baby's first Christmas" ornaments.  No one can ever accuse me of NOT being sentimental.  Every December we get to remember the experiences and the places we have been blessed to see and to experience.  In a little collection of memories, snapshots of times and places, all hung on our tree.  I look forward to future travels and opportunities to add to our collection (Lord willing!).

In a dark field I wait

Living in the land of Jesus's birth, life, death and resurrection can spoil a person.  It can ruin one's perspective and make living out the Christian life anywhere else seem a bit mundane at times.  It can also change a person, and create memories and experiences that will stay with them forever.

On Christmas Eve 2007, our family of five spent time across the Separation Wall, on the West Bank of Israel, singing songs about Jesus and praying for peace with other believers.  We did not go to where the party was, in Bethlehem, where the light first dawned and Jesus was first placed in an animal's trough.  We were in Beit Sahour, or "Shepherd's Field," where it was believed the nomadic sheepherders tended their sheep.

From where we stood, singing in Hebrew, in Arabic and in English, we could see the lights of Bethlehem, but we stood nearly completely in the dark, excepting one fire, in the middle of our little circle.

There are people who happily embrace God's grace and forgiveness.  Who are easily able to shed the "sinner" and walk as a "saint" made possible of course only by God.  I don't mean self-righteous people, I just mean those lucky people who see God's outstretched hand and gift and say "hey, cool..thanks!"    I, on the other hand, have a hard time with the free gift of God's love and grace.  I see myself as fallen, and imperfect, and it pains me.  I know I can never earn God's favor, and there are days when I struggle to accept it.  I know I cannot walk into heaven on my own two feet, but only on the back of the one who bore my sin on a cross.  But that humbles me to my knees and if God were to come today I wonder if I wouldn't hide from Him.  This is my confession.

In the days that God became man and dwelt among His people, shepherds were a despised profession.  In the caste system of the day, they were considered right "up" there with tax collectors and dung sweepers.  They were called "untrustworthy" and unclean.  The bottom of the heap.  They were not allowed into the temple to pray.  Today I thought of Shepherd's Field, and thought "this is where I belong."  This is where we all deserve to be - outside of Bethlehem, looking in.

On Friday, 20 small children, most of them 6 years old, were brutally killed.  In Sudan, and in Syria, in many regions in our world, parents watch their children suffer and die.  Children watch as their parents are murdered.  There is war, famine, child soldiers, genocide, school shootings, domestic violence.  It is heartbreaking, sickening, horrifying.  This world has a lot of darkness and pain, none of it is easy to accept or to explain.  What amazes me is that the bible says that Jesus came not despite the darkness here, but because of it.  He sees those of us, like me, who some days want to sit in the dark where we feel we belong, and God says "no."

He sent a host of angels to reveal to the outcasts of society, those shepherds in the darkness, that God was here.  That He was born to us, to save us from ourselves.  He said "come to Bethlehem and see for yourselves!"  He invited them to join in the party and to rejoice and find hope. I wouldn't have traded that time in Beit Sahour for anything, and modern-day Bethlehem on December 24 resembles Mardi Gras more than the simple, first celebration of a baby's birth.  However, this season I want to accept the fact that though we don't deserve it, though we humans are all unclean, we are all outcasts, God has announced His presence to us.  He invites us into the story, to come to Him.  Although I put my trust in God 20 years ago, I still have days when I wake up and have to say, "I will go and see.  I will accept that You love more than I can fathom. "  How long will we wait in the field before we go down to Bethlehem?

Merry Macgyver Christmas: the yearly tradition of making something from nothing

I adore the Christmas season.  I love the softer, more golden shade of sunlight in the afternoon, cool nights (I live in So Cal after all), carols playing on pandora radio, balsam scented candles burning and peppermint tea in my favorite mug.  As a believer in Christ the season is a great celebration of "God with us" or God coming down to meet us here on earth and to walk with us.  I love all the traditions that come with the season as well.  Decorating the tree with ornaments we have picked up on all our travels, remembering each trip as we hang them.  Putting my churches on top of the bookcase, hanging our stockings and setting out our olivewood nativity, purchased in Jerusalem while we were living there.

We decorate fairly simply, but every year I want to join in the thousands of men and women who dust off their crafting skills and make something cool.  Now that there is pinterest, we can share ideas online and it has most likely spurred a sort of craft "revival" even for those who might have not ventured into those uncharted waters before.  I laugh at some of the ideas that really take a whole lot of money to accomplish even with a stash of online Michael's 50% off coupons and maybe a friend who owns a lumber mill.  Of course I still like those ideas, I just don't have a budget for them and am secretly (or not so secretly) jealous that they have a friend who owns a lumber mill.

That said, there are many, many inexpensive ideas out there for someone like me on a tight budget.  When I was a kid, I loved to watch "Macgyver" on TV (no not a flat screen, no not on netflix).  The guy could take the simplest more random things and turn them into something amazing.  He makes Jason Bourne, and 007 look a little un-creative if you ask me.  Just two examples I found online: In the first ever episode, he plugs a sufuric acid leak with chocolate.  Later, he builds bombs out of swamp gas, bamboo shoots, and mud.  I am not saying I do, or do not condone bombs, but this guy is seriously cool.

Back to the point - the holidays seem to bring the Macgyver out of people, and definitely out of me.  I dig in the bottom of my Christmas bins to find broken berries, bits of string, and scraps of fabric and can decorate my lamp shade.  I can hang old dollar store ornaments from the chandalier and use a "seen better years" tablecloth as my tree skirt.  I love to hear about other people's resourcefulness and how they can create something cozy, beautiful and magical with very, very little.  My favorite "Macgyver Christmas" craft ever?  The following wreath, made from the simplest of items -

An ugly bush (really, really ugly)

A metal hanger...

Taken and pulled and squished and molded into a sort-of circle

Cut branches overlapped thick end under the thin end and tied with simple twine

See?

= a wreath to hang!

Here it is in our livingroom

A better look - also some more of that bush made it's way into a vase wrapped in old ribbon

I love projects like these because they are easy enough even for an impatient and low budget gal like myself.  And they are so versatile - you could use any greenery you have in your backyard or in the greenbelt or in your neighbor's backyard (rosemary, holly, cyprus tree...hey those have to be good for something other than being a tall, unsightly 70's-esque filler tree).  And if you don't have twine, use wire, or cut strips of fabric, or yarn.  I hereby decree that everyone needs to make this wreath.  Yes, I am excited about this project.  And don't even get me started on what you can do with a 3 dollar can of chalkboard paint.  Pretty much anything can be turned into something cool if there is chalkboard paint on it (unless you are my five year old...or my favorite shirt).  I hope to hear of many more Macgyver Christmas projects this year - I guess words like "reclaimed" and "repurposed" would be the more cool hipster/pinterest/good blogger way to phrase it.  So, devoted reader (Mom? Grandma?)...do you have some good Macgyver Christmas stories to share?

Short Stanley:just your run of the mill 7th grade day plus one bully

My oldest son is a very nice kid.  In the fourth grade he was bullied.  The kids were sorting out the pecking order and anyone willing to pick on someone else was safe.  If someone refused to turn and be a pick-ee, then they remained a picked-on.  It was a terrible year for our family and I was heartbroken and angry at the same time.   After that year things settled down but he never really developed close friendships with anyone at his school.

This year, our move to San Diego County from the OC has been wonderful for him.  A fresh start that we were all praying for.  He has really great buddies from school and from church.  The boy has more than made up for his lackluster social life leading up to now.  We are thrilled for him.

But today he came home and told me that a kid at school threw him up against a fence and punched him in the stomach.  What???!

The story goes like this:  Kid borrows money from Isaac.  Kid doesn't pay Isaac back.  Isaac continues to ask for his money back.  Isaac gives Kid "the eye" and rubs his fingers together (symbolizing "you owe me money").  Kid says repeatedly that he will not pay Isaac back.  Turns out Kid borrows from everyone at the school and doesn't pay anyone back.  He cusses and isn't very nice.

Today the Kid finally got mad at Isaac for asking for his money back.  Kid pushed and punched Isaac.

Here was my mom response:  Isaac you have no idea what hurts are going through Kid's mind and in his life that make him mean.  Maybe Kid is poor and needs that two dollars he spent on a poweraid more than you need it.  Maybe Kid's mother doesn't love him like your mother loves you.   Just let it go and try to be nice to Kid because he is hurting inside.

This was my pastor husband's response:  Punch Kid in the nose if he ever pushes you again.  He won't expect it and he will get a reputation for being the kid who got punched in the nose and will never be a bully again.  And he deserves it.

  Okay....

This is what happened...Isaac said to Kid..."you better leave me alone or I will get my 8th grade friends to back me up." Eighth grade friends (Isaac is the only 7th grader in an 8th grade class) start walking towards Kid.  The shortest 8th grader (let's call him Stanley) makes threatening hand in fist gesture and says "you just messed with the wrong 7th grader..."  Another 8th grader tells short 8th grader, "You are sooo not intimidating, Stanley (again, the name has been changed to protect Stanley)." Kid runs away and later in the day Isaac is giving Kid the eye again. (You'd think he would be afraid of the guy).

 He was laughing while he told me the story today in the car.  Whether this happens again, or if he punches the kid in the nose or prays for him or becomes best friends with him, I am just so happy he is not feeling beat down by it.  I am not even going to make this profound...I just want to visualize short 8th grade Stanley (shorter than most 7th graders according to my son) doing the fist in hand motion..."you messed with the wrong 7th grader, Kid..."  

1 Corinthians 1:25

Worship in the front row

It takes a certain type of person to sit in the front row at church.  Usually you need to have a good amount of self-confidence to sit up front.  Or you need to be a part of a bigger group of friends that all sit in the front, so you can still feel like you are not in the front row.  Maybe you are a more mature member of the church who knows that no one likes to sit in the front, so you sit there to open up room in the back.  Or maybe you never show up late to church or have your cell phone ring or have to sneak out early to take your kid to a sport's event.  So the front row makes good sense.     Or maybe you are friends with the pastor or you think you should be friends with the pastor.  Because everyone knows that the pastor sits in the front row.

In fact, if you are new to a church and wonder who the pastor is...just look in the front row. He's (or she's) probably there. 

Ryan sits in the front left row of our church.  If I wasn't married to him I think I would sit in the back row.  It would be so much easier for me to relax.  Namely, because I figure people are paying way more attention to me that they really are.  And I am a goofball clutz that embarrassing things happen to, and in the back row those things are less noticeable.  

While sitting or standing in the front row of church, these are the general types of things that go through my head... "is my bra strap showing? " "Is my skirt tucked into my tights? " "Is my tag sticking out?"  Will my chair break? (this has happened)  "will people notice that I am not putting something into the offering basket?" There is also always the hazard of getting spit on or having the pastor make eye contact with you...which of course if your spouse is the teaching pastor for the day you have to just grin and bear that one...(or you can throw a spit wad...which only very immature pastor's wives or front-row sitters would ever do).

Last week I came in a few minutes late due to some unforeseen drama with the boys that morning.  I came in, walked up to the front, turned off my cell phone, set down my purse and water, then knocked my water and purse over, spilling out my collections of gum wrappers, to-do lists, pens and wadded up dollar bills that I keep in my not-so tidy purse.  Disruptive maybe?  Then I realized that I didn't have a bulletin and I always take notes so I excused myself to go to the back again to grab a bulletin.  Once the sermon started, someone came to sit by me and whisper that they thought Ryan's truck lights were on.  I left again to go check.  It was another white, giant hemi-engined man-truck (ok that is sexist...but that is how I see it) with it's lights on...not Ryan's.  So I had to go back to the front row again.  All the while I am wondering if people are asking "can't she just sit still?"

This week, during musical worship, I struggled again.  In the back row I feel the freedom to sing and praise God without thinking about anyone else other than me and God.  If I need to let things go, I may lift my hands up.  If I am happy I might clap or move with the music in my white-girl way.  I might sit if I feel the need to posture myself in a show of humility.  In the back row, I might even kneel.  In the front row I wonder...if I stand while most everyone is sitting what will others think?  People often watch the pastor to see what he is up to - if he sits, they sit, if he claps, they clap.  If he stands, they stand.  I personally don't like that practice because I think it is important for people to do what they feel led to do during that time.  Worship isn't a choreographed sing-along.  Worship (in music)  is one way believers express to God their gratitude and praise.  It is often done in a large group setting, but it is the heart God is hearing and not the outward expression that matters.  

Do I do my best in the front row to do back-row worship?  Yes I try.  But my request to worship leaders and to pastors is this - please teach those of us in every row what worship needs to be.  Remind us that we can express ourselves however we feel we need to - without judgement or ridicule (although if you dance around the church we might giggle a tiny bit...).  

I know I will continue to sit in the front row (except for those days Ryan is out of town...). I know I need to learn once again in one more way that I don't live my life for those around me, but rather for the God who made me. Today I sat when others were standing.  I felt like that made the most sense but it was hard for me to do.  After church someone came to me and said "I really wanted to sit before God during worship but no one was sitting...I saw you sitting and it gave me the courage to sit."  It sounds so silly but if you are a part of church you probably know what I am talking about.  It was a good reminder to me once again to let God dictate what I do and not the opinion of others.  

Fear Behind the Mask:How the church handles honesty

Today I found Ben hiding behind the couch with his flip flops and a roll of tape.  He was taping the sandals back together and it was obvious he had cut them.  Of course, in my mother way I simply asked, "Ben, did you cut your sandals?"

He said no.  I asked again, and he reminded me how Ian's sandals had broken once without being cut.  I showed him on the sandal where the seam was and how the straight cut didn't match up.  I asked again.  "Ben, did you cut this sandal?"

Instead of saying yes, Ben started to sob.  He ran back behind the couch to hide, and I had a choice to make.

I could yell at him for cutting his sandal and do exactly the thing that he feared enough to lie in the first place.  Or I could go to him, hug him and let him know I love him and I am disappointed when he lies to me.  I did the latter.  Of course I made sure to explain that cutting flip flops is not a good idea because now he doesn't have any.

As Christians we are terrified of honesty.  Even though God may know our hearts we still lie to Him, to ourselves, and to everyone else.  We are much more afraid of the consequences of our mistakes than we are of hiding them.  People who confess of hating their spouse, stealing from their work, or skipping quiet time for years at a time are rarely met with a "good job!  thanks for being honest!"  Those of us in leadership talk about Integrity and taking off our masks and being vulnerable.  We tell people that God wants us to be honest and to confess our sins "and he is faithful and just and will forgive us."  We tell people that if they have an issue with another believer that they need to go to that person and deal with it in order to have a richer worship experience.

What is wrong with us that we just can't tell the truth?  For one, the church says with its lips that we are all sinners, but real sinners are uncomfortable and we don't know how to deal with them.  What if the truth is that someone confesses a sin and says "I don't have the strength to stop it?"  What then do we do?  If they pretend to be alright and repentant and they do all the right things, then there is a better chance the church can handle them. (I also believe people can be honestly doing and saying the "right" things as well..)  But if they continue to be honest in their struggles, then the church can't seem to come to a consensus on how to walk with honest people, pray with honest people and help to restore honest people.

Truth is, we should not be so shocked when it comes out that people have blown it big time.  God promises us that we are fallen, that we are sinful, and that we will mess up.  Even the heroes of the faith in the bible mess up often and sometimes big time.

One thing that God consistently takes issue with in the bible is lying.  He calls the pharasees "white-washed tombs" meaning they look clean and perfect on the outside but they are full of decay and death on the inside.  He gets angry at those who did all sorts of great things on the outside for God, but on the inside their hearts were far from Him.  In fact He even at one point tells those people "I don't know you."


Honesty in church seems rare.  We tell people to tell the truth but do we mean it?  We ask people to confess their sins but will we confess ours?  The man hanging next to Jesus on the cross, condemned for a grievous crime, found himself in heaven that very night and yet those who pretended to be so good and yet were so far, were cast away from Him.  I am not saying we need to do away with consequences, but those will come on their own.  I am saying that I believe we need to remember that fake righteousness (lying) should make us more afraid than admitting our failures.  We may never know when someone is lying - they may live out a beautifully godly life all their days but on the inside, be far from God.  But we can sometimes know when someone is being honest and we need to treat them with at the very least, as much respect and care that we treat those who hide from the truth.   

You know you are a mom of boys when...

In case you aren't sure whether you fit into this category, I am referring to mothers of ALL boys although some of the list may pertain to mothers with at least one boy.  Not sure.  I wouldn't know.

1.  You know that a nut cup is not something caterers use to display holiday chestnuts, walnuts and hazelnuts.

2.  You never yell at anyone in your house for leaving the toilet seat up.  In fact, after going pee, you yourself put the toilet seat up.  Otherwise, one of your boys will inevitably pee without lifting the seat and you will have sticky pee all over the seat.  It is just easier that way.

3. You often find yourself cleaning footprints off the wall at eye-height and hand prints off the ceiling.

4. You have a special camaraderie with other mothers with only boys.  People may think you are exclusive...but that's just how it is.  You need to feel you are special in some way because your boys and husband usually just think you are weird.

5.  No one uses plates on pizza night because it makes more sense to eat off of the box.  Boys are very efficient that way.

6.  I never understood the term "hoover" your food until I had all three boys at the table.  It's like magic the way they make the food disappear.

7.  You realize that the concept that a mom of all boys is like the "princess" in the family is a complete fallacy.  No one will treat you like a princess or see you that way because they don't know what a princess is, nor do they care.

8.  You spend more time cleaning urine off the floor than you do having tea parties.

9.  Boys without sisters don't see anything wrong with throwing snowballs at girl's faces or flashing their butts in public.

10.  Your children are honestly surprised when you mention to them to use soap in the shower and to change their clothes or at the very least, their boxers.

11.  If you can make it one week without someone breaking a bone, setting a fire, getting a black eye or getting a bloody nose sliding head first down the stairs on a piece of cardboard, it is a good week.

12.  If you can make it one week without any body slamming, double dipping, running in the house naked, ball-throwing, grunting, inappropriate gas-passing or burping, drinking out of the milk carton (again boys are efficient), or roll-down-the-window body oder...

Well...I wonder if you really have boys at all.

Let me know what I missed!

The Halloween Party

Yesterday my husband posted on why we celebrate Halloween.  You can read his excellent post on the subject here and just know it receives a hearty "amen" from me.

Yesterday was one of those really fun days when I am happy that we are not seclusive Christians on Halloween night.  Ryan and I both believe that the best way to share the love of Jesus with the world is not by being one of the only darkened porches on the street with a sign that says "Jesus Loves You."

And so, we threw a party instead.

In the bible, the kingdom of heaven is described as a party (banquet) with lots of food.  




All day the boys and I prepared for the party - we made homemade salsa and carnitas, mummy cakepops and my favorite caramel apples.  First, we had to go foraging in the woods (or the empty lot behind the old abandoned bank down the street) for sticks.  I get giddy when I think about a party and as an introvert...I won't lie; the anticipation and preparation is my favorite part.

Jesus tells us...I will go and prepare a place for you...

We set out the food, lit some pumpkin spice candles, stuck some beer on ice, opened the door and in came our Halloween revelers.  First, it was some Junior High boys from my oldest's school.  They are new friends of his and are just learning about Jesus from my very verbal and not-ashamed son.  One was a vampire and one was a Civil War Veteran.  Next came the neighbors - every one of the houses we invited showed up as well as two extra families who don't even live on our street.  They were friends of neighbors.  Next came our friends from church.  We only invited one family from church because we wanted to really get to know the families on our street.

God invites everyone from every street corner.  

I love that our understanding of God not only allows, but compels us as a family to open our doors to anyone who will come.  And we don't invite people to convert them.  We invite them so we can know them and so they can know us.  It's a fun way to live.

Prayer and stoplights and parking spaces

This past week I had two different "opportunities" to talk about prayer with people.  I was the substitute bible study leader for our regular leader who was on a trip.  The topic: Prayer.  Later in the week I was helping Ryan teach a discipleship group at our church and this week happened to be on prayer as well.

I felt very unqualified to teach on prayer.

I talk to God a lot and I have heard from God a lot.  But I just don't have all the answers in regards to prayer.  I am not one of those "faith pray-ers" who claims the promises of God's word and banishes Satan from the room, and says Amen and Halleluiah a lot.  I love those people, but that is not me.  I also struggle with praying with the faith of a child.  I completely trust that God CAN do whatever he wants but it is hard for me to pray and trust that God WILL do what I am praying for.  I have friends who have complete trust in the goodness of God and pray knowing He will answer because He loves them.  I just can't do that.  I think I am a bit jaded.  

I do pray for the parking space sometimes...but I fully believe that God will answer me with a big fat NO because He cares more about my character than about my getting what I ask for.  And a parking space shouldn't be important to me when I live in this amazing country and I have food on my table each night.  But I have friends who see those little prayers as a way for God to bless and to gift you when you really don't deserve it.  I admit, when I pray what I consider to be a dumb and trivial or selfish prayer, and it actually is fulfilled in a "yes" from God, I feel pretty cared about.  And then humbled.  And often silly for asking but so happy that God heard.

 In fact, just this past weekend I was driving home and my car started breaking down.  Thinking of this blog post, I started to pray.  I asked God to "get me safely home."  And then I clarified..."home, meaning the house, not to heaven."  Then I prayed "and please get the car home, but not in a tow truck, rather on it's own wheels."  It was ridiculous and I was totally serious but also thinking God must seriously be rolling his eyes at me.  But then I got off the freeway, and for 10 stoplights in a row...the light was red, and just as my creaking and lurching car would come within a few feet of the light, it would turn green.  No kidding.  Every light from the freeway to my house.  Is that because I was clear with God?  I highly doubt it.  

A lady came up to me a while ago and told me a story of how she overheard me saying something to someone else at church, and she took it to heart.  She said it really impacted and challenged her.  Now, what she had recounted to me was a quick off-handed comment I made to someone and had not put any thought into whatsoever.  I laughed and said, "Gosh you shouldn't listen to everything I say!" And she replied "Yes I do...you are the pastor's wife."  Yikes!!  

Because of occasional conversations like that, I am very sensitive to the things that I don't have answers to.  Of course, I don't think I have entire answers for anything.  The bible says we will see "dimly" in this world but will one day see God "face to face."  I will strive to know God and His word each day, but my understanding of Him will be dim, at best.  I feel that my understanding of prayer is that way as well.  

People sometimes come to me and ask me how to pray.  There are so many examples of prayer in the Bible and they don't follow a perfect outline.  Yes the PRAY method is good: Praise God, Repent of your sins, Ask for what is on your heart, Yield to God's ultimate answer.  Yes the Lord's Prayer is a good model to follow.  And sometimes people yell at God, sometimes they sing to Him, praise Him, thank Him, sometimes they whine to God, sometimes they use simple words and the Bible even says that sometimes we can't come up with any words at all and the Holy Spirit in us will pray on our behalf.  Sometimes people hear from God in an audible voice, sometimes in the wind, sometimes a stirring in the heart, sometimes through a "prophet" and sometimes through the awesome-ness of Nature.  

I have to believe that prayer is as diverse as the people who pray and that God will listen, regardless of how pious, or how goofy, or how angry those prayers may be.  And in looking for, and listening for His response, I hope ultimately what we can come to believe is that God is saying "I am here."

The Wall: and when to cease praying.

I had a vision.

Yes, one of those crazy-christian-lady (as I like to call myself on occasion) visions.

I was standing in front of a wall, holding a piece of paper.  I was turning the piece of paper over and over, staring at it, worrying over it, thinking about it.  God said, "stick the paper in the wall, and walk away."  So I did.

This happened to me last week when I was very upset about something.  Heartbroken, in fact.  And I was doing just what the Bible tells me to do..I was praying without ceasing.  Yep, when I woke up and I thought about this burden on my heart, I would pray.  And then all day that burden was on my heart and I would pray some more.  And then as I was getting ready for bed, that burden was on my heart some more and I would pray.  In fact, at church last week we forced (ahem, gave the opportunity to...) our discipleship class to pray for 30 minutes on their own, in silence, without writing one grocery list or checking their fb status on their phones (not that I have ever done this at church..).  I took my 30 minutes and prayed without ceasing for this same burden that was on my heart.

In that 30 minutes, we were also supposed to listen for God to speak to us.  We made it clear that this was not a forced exercise and no one fails if they don't happen to hear God speak.  That's silly.  But I was praying so fervently without ceasing, that I doubt I gave God the chance to get in a word edgewise.  But literally, God threw one of those 11th hour, hail-mary (is God allowed to do that?) type God-is-speaking-now passes my way the very last minute of our 30 minutes.

And it was in a vision.

I was in front of the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem.  Which I have been there before many times.  The wailing wall is part of the ancient temple that once stood in Jerusalem, which was destroyed almost entirely by the Romans in AD 70.  The temple housed the "Holy of Holies" or basically, this is where God lived, where He was present.  The wall today stands as a reminder to the Jewish people that one day the temple will be rebuilt, but it also is the closest thing they have to coming into God's presence.  It is a Holy place for them.

I was holding a piece of paper.  Pilgrims come from all over to the wailing wall and bring their prayers, written on paper.  They roll the paper up into little wads and stuff them into the cracks of the wall.  It's as close as one can get to sticking a prayer into the hand of God.

I was turning the paper over and over.  I was praying without ceasing.  But I wasn't actually putting my concerns into God's hands.  And that is what He wanted me to do.

God's voice in my vision wasn't a gentle one.  It was an admonishment.  It was a bit annoyed.  (of course, that might have just been my take on it).  "Sara, stick the paper in the wall, and walk away."

So, in the vision I saw myself do just that.  I put my prayer into the hands of God and therefore put it out of my hands.  Then I turned and walked away, trusting that He cares more than me and is far more capable than me.  

The real me (not the vision-me) let go of my burden right then.  And I walked away from it.  Every once in a while I can look over at the wall just to check..."you still got this, right God?"  And He does.


1 Peter 5:7 "Give all your worries and cares to God, for He cares for you."

Momnesia

Momnesia is a real thing.  I thought I was clever when I came up with the title of this post, but then decided to google it.  There are definitions online, books, blogs and even a USA Today article on Momnesia.  The basic premise of course, is that a mother, shortly after childbirth, suffers from a sort of mental "fuzziness." I didn't read much on the term, since I already had in my head what I thought it meant and I prefer to live in my bubble and use the term for my own devices.  Also, I am a bit annoyed that I am not as clever as I thought I was.


I always think of mommy amnesia as the condition that wipes away the true memory of childbearing so that we have more kids later.  I won't go into the gory details, but giving birth to my first-born was not pretty. And between the three kids, there was 6 weeks of bedrest, 31 days in NICU, 10 years of cholic (I won't name names), an emergency C-section and 150 pounds of weight gain.  Yet somehow I managed to forget each difficult experience and go for another round.

Other signs of Momnesia might be things like putting your purse in the fridge, leaving your bible on top of the car (I literally went through one bible per baby), forgetting your child's name, leaving your keys in the bathroom at McDonalds, becoming clutzy and bumping into things (I might have been born with Momnesia now that I think of it).

Here is where I have been hit the hardest though - I have these ideas in my head of what an idyllic family outing will look like.  Or what Christmas morning will look like.  Or for instance, what a nice family bike ride on the beach for my birthday will look like.  We all love each other, we laugh, we smile.  We are wearing normal, clean clothes and we are polite to all those around us.  We are grateful for life and for whatever experience we may be having together.  So lovely.  There are the ideas in my head, and then there is what is true.  Usually after an outing together or a family holiday, I am making plans to sell my children to the zoo.  And yet, I forget all this, and the very next week, am doing it all over again.  Momnesia.  


This past Friday we went to the Bates Nut Farm Pumpkin Patch.  I was so excited to stroll the fields, watch the boys laugh and play, smell the cold, crisp fall air of...Escondido.  I knew right away that there was going to be trouble when we picked up my oldest from school and immediately the punching began.  And then they got along for five minutes because I told them the name of the pumpkin patch...Nut Farm.  And I have three boys, so they loved the idea of going to a nut farm, and giggled about going to get nuts for a good five minutes.  And then the punching resumed.  And Ben wiped boogers on Isaac's face.  And Ian threw a red rubber ball at Ben's face.  And then we got stuck in traffic.

At the pumpkin patch, the weather was significantly warmer than it had been at our house which is closer to the coast.  The boys were too hot.  They were hungry.  Could they get a giant pumpkin?  They picked up rotten pumpkins.  They made faces for the camera.  They grumbled.  And punched.  They found a poor fake mannequin cowboy sitting on a bench and picked his nose, pulled his ears and tickled his feet to make sure he was really fake.  Getting them to all three sit still for more than 20 seconds to get a photo of our day was like pulling teeth.  I told them that I was leaving them at the nut farm and they would have to forage for food and raise themselves.  Ben the five year old actually thought that sounded like a great idea.  Sigh.

This morning, I went for a run without the children.  It was cold and grey.  I had a thought in my head as I neared the house... "maybe they will all have cleaned the house for me while I was away.  Maybe the house will be cozy, clean and smelling of pumpkin candles and fresh-brewed coffee."  Momnesia.

What throws me off however, is that today, as I entered the house, it was clean and the boys were upstairs playing quietly (they were drawing all over their faces...but they were quiet) and the house smelled of pumpkin and coffee.  Sometimes they actually surprise me and live up to my hopes for them.  And it makes my Momnesia feel justified.  Sometimes I want to sell them to the zoo, but I look back on those moments fondly.  Momnesia.  

peaceful pumpkin patch

Brother love