I like clothes. Granted, I'm usually more fashion victim than fashion trendsetter (though it's not for lack of trying: sequin saxophone sweater and silver mini skirt with matching granny boots). I was the first kid, ahem, only kid, at my school with beautiful brown wooden clogs reminiscent of the ones the little Dutch boy wore on the paint can. (Please don't ask me questions I can't answer...I don't know why.) They made a lovely, hollow clonking sound as I teetered down the sidewalk each day to lunch. I'm pretty sure I was the first student to break out knee-high suede black boots that laced up the back. I have no doubt I was the only third grader with my own subscription to Vogue magazine; okay, slight exaggeration, it was more like eighth grade but still, my short-haired, blond, permed, Sally Jesse red-framed glasses wearing, awkward, tall, clumsy, nerdy self longed to be fashionable. If I looked like orphan Annie on a good day, the least I could hope for is cute clothing. One of my big dreams in life is to be deemed just tragic enough for a visit from Clinton and Stacey of What Not to Wear fame. Clearly, I need therapy......
Maybe two weeks in the same seven items of clothing is the therapy I need. That's right, count em....seven and shoes count as one item. I am entering the next stage of my 7 experiment. Me, one pair of jeans, one skirt, shoes, and four shirts. Try narrowing down your wardrobe to seven appropriate items during a January in Alabama, where currently it is 70 with tornadoes on the way and tomorrow will top out around 45. Granted, I should have entered it two weeks ago, but I had not yet recovered from my food fast, and I had a dinner party to attend. Well, I did and I didn't think sequin sweater and satin high heels were a good choice for two of my items.....so, already, off to a good start on this particular spiritual journey.
I'm a bit apprehensive to see where God takes me on this journey. I've had a clothing problem most of my life (reserve comment, friends) and not just one of poor choices (who didn't have a short curly home perm in the 80s?). I really like the way shopping for a cute sweater makes me feel. I enjoy a new pair of shoes and cute jeans. I worked until midnight most Sundays at a clothing store for a discount on my children's clothing. I live in the South, friends, where little girls wear eighty dollar smocked dresses on the playground. So, yeah, this may be the toughest part of 7 for me, not because I'm so self-conscious that I can't imagine wearing the same items for 14 days; I'm actually enjoying the simplicity. I get up grab my jeans and sweater off the floor for the fourth day in a row and voila, I'm dressed, but because I'm a bit anxious about what the Holy Spirit is going to reveal. I think this section is going to be a real deep glimpse into why I am so insecure I look for my identity in clothes.
I'm a follower of Christ. I know my identity is found in who I am in Him not who I am in Ann Taylor Loft jeans. Of course, everyone needs clothing. I think they arrest you for walking around naked, but what is motivating me to buy five cardigans and three pair of boots no matter how deep their discount was? It certainly isn't material need; it must be something deeper. The need for acceptance, to fit in, to say, "I'm here; I'm cute; Respect me; Esteem me." The very things I already have because I'm a daughter of the King, the very worldly attitudes I'm told to reject because I'm a daughter of the King.
I have justified every clothing purchase made in my 37 years, well, almost, the wooden clogs and silver granny boots aside, and let me tell you, when I found myself sorting socks on the floor of Gymboree at eleven on the Sabbath and not because we were desperate for money, away from my children for the entire day, so I could buy them cute clothes at a discount, I realized it was time for a reality check. The Holy Spirit started to tug at my heart and discomforted me enough to know a shift in attitude was needed. Then the journey to 7 began with a bible study on Nehemiah and something as seemingly innocuous as shopping revealed the need for repentance and a priority makeover.
As with so much of this recent Spirit-led quest, I've been asking myself repeatedly, "How does your life look any different from anyone who doesn't claim to follow Christ?" How in the world-but-not-of-the-world am I living? Let's just say my closet, while filled with lovely, appropriate, modest clothing doesn't reflect the values of one who truly believes that a woman's beauty is found from within. It doesn't reflect someone who claims to care about the oppressed and justice for the poor, the widowed, the orphaned. It very much reflects a self-absorbed narcissist. Blunt, but real. How often is my first thought when invited to an event, "But what will I wear?" not "Who will I see?" or "Who can I bless?" How many fitting rooms have I fled in tears because I couldn't find jeans that fit? I want to be "clothed in strength and dignity" (Proverbs 31:25) and to "open my arms to the poor, extend my arms to the needy" (Proverbs 31:20). There just aren't a lot of materially needy people perusing the racks at Loft or Crazy 8.
As with every section of 7, I feel the Spirit speaking, gently but firmly. I'm not trying to get all bound up in law vs. freedom here either, but I do feel the leading to reevaluate my priorities for my family and me. While there's nothing wrong with owning cute clothing, there is something inherently amiss with the volume of most American closets, and I haven't even begun to scratch the surface of responsible consumerism. How many sweet little ones are working their fingers to the bone for an unfair wage, so I can support my accessory habit? These are the questions I feel Jesus leading me to ask. So, I will pray, examine, prioritize, and evaluate my attitude toward clothing over the next two weeks. A fast from self-absorption and mindless shopping, All I ask is that you ignore the little Cheetos hand print on my jeans....I haven't had time to wash them yet.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Food for Thought
I spent the first week of 7 in a caffeine and sugar withdrawal-induced haze, which was just as enjoyable as it sounds. The second week I emerged from the fog and discovered an energy surge that rivals Red Bull. Today, my husband and I say good-bye to chicken, spinach, sweet potatoes, and eggs, at least for a little while. (Oh, eggs, I won't miss the way you stick to everything, leaving little flakes on the silverware long after the hot waters of the dishwasher have doused you to no avail.) Today, I ate cantaloupe, blueberries, and oatmeal simmered in cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg, and it was good.
Wait, come again? Didn't you say thirty days? Two weeks is just fourteen days. Yes, yes, I'm aware. I also said I would never leave my job and stay home with my children, that I would never live in the state of Alabama, and that I would never wear Toms (this was before I learned about the company and discovered they made adorable wedges), so there you go. And, did I mention that Jen Hatmaker got paid for her thirty day experiment. I know you're disappointed, but allow me to cease the snarkiness and explain. This was one of the hardest things I've ever done. My husband and I spent seven days ravenous, grumpy, and unpleasant (if you don't believe me ask anyone in my Sunday school class), and since we love each other and our children, we decided it would probably be best to shorten the food portion of our 7 fast to fourteen days. Cheap attempt to ease my conscience: the bible study only recommended seven days, so even Hatmaker foresaw the limitations of this style of fast.
Did I miss the point? Was 14 days long enough to listen for God's voice over the din of the incessant stomach growling and through the throbbing pain of my brain pounding out of my skull? God speaks when we listen, and I truly sought to position myself to hear, so I'll share what I discovered through my 7 experiment with food. First, I'll cover the shallow, surface-y physical lessons then I'll explore the spiritual lessons.
It would appear that caffeine is a drug, and I'm thinking about contacting the FDA about sugar, as well. Hello, caffeine withdrawal....which I expected. I did not expect to ache all over and wish for someone to knock me out until it all passed. I have never struggled with a drug addiction, praise God, but I imagine my experience is similar to what someone going through detox might feel. My body's response to dropping sugar and processed foods cold turkey is not what I expected. I imagined it would throw me a party complete with endless energy, clear skin, and a ten pound weight loss. Let's just say it welcomed me with a large glass of aches, pain, and misery.
Which got me to thinking......what on earth am I feeding my body, and not just my body, what on earth am I feeding my children? Fighting the urge to eat an entire box of peanut butter crackers, I decided to do a little light reading and downloaded a copy of Michael Pollan's In Defense of Food. As Americans, we worry more about what we eat and how many Omega-3's we're consuming than any other culture on the planet, yet our waistlines are expanding at record rates. How depressing to learn that we are becoming a generation not expected to outlive our parents' generation! We believe that Fruit Loops injected with whole grains or whatever other buzzword the media heaps onto our processed plates is healthier than a serving of spinach and squash. For the first time in my life, I began to think seriously about what chemicals I was feeding my family.
7, it seems, is about discomfort, and beyond the obvious physical discomfort, I also stepped out of my own comfort zone. I shopped in an organic grocery store for the first time and felt as if I had entered an alternate universe, where everyone knew my secret: I have no idea how to navigate this place. Yes, I was the lady wandering aimlessly in circles trying to find organic sweet potatoes. I began to think about how my food made it from the garden to the aisles of Publix. How many miles? What percent of the profit did the rice farmers receive? I discovered free trade web sites that provide not only food but also fair wages and real opportunity for the materially impoverished. My husband and I are even talking about planting a garden! 7 is forcing me to burst my safe little bubble and peer into the real world beyond the majestic shores of the United States. And....I love it!
You see, 7 is teaching me so much about my relationship not only with God but also with the world and my responsibility to see those outside my sweet little circle as Christ sees them: with love. He's teaching me to actually see them to understand that it is no longer acceptable to pass by and ignore them.
Throughout this process, I craved foods I loved but had declared off limits. When my stomach growled instead of reaching for a quick fix snack, I waited until the next meal. I felt discomfort, and I was reminded of those who have no choice, who live with the discomfort of real hunger, not the spoiled American girl who decided she could only eat 10 (yeah, another cheat) wholesome, filling foods. I allowed myself to visualize those who sit in the slums of India and long for anything to offer their children and I prayed for them. I cried for them. Annie and I even researched several countries in an attempt to understand what they eat and to learn more about the impoverished of this world because I don't want her to ever ignore the least of these.
We spend so much time working long hours to desperately provide our children the best of everything, but by their birthright, our children already have the best of everything. We sit in an ivory tower doing whatever we can to protect our children from a scraped knee much less a heart that breaks for the least. I'm learning that I can no longer reconcile Christ and the world to merge my American dream with my faith to compartmentalize obedience to Jesus into a safe little box. Yes, Lord, send me, as long as they have indoor plumbing, sweet tea, and hot showers. Don't discomfort me.
I realize I can't save the world, but if my family and I can step out in radical obedience, the kind Jesus expects, and follow his commands to assist wherever we are called, even if it's down the street, then our small acts of obedience could result in big results for the kingdom. Jesus tells us in John we'll face trouble, persecution even. Ask yourself, "Have I ever been ostracized, ridiculed, or even discomforted by my walk with Christ?" Not fitting into a size eight jeans does not qualify as hardship. Being called a "Jesus freak" is not persecution. 7 is teaching me that I've been living just like everyone else. My life isn't looking radically different because of my walk with Christ......and it should. What am I afraid of? Looking weird? Clearly, weird is the least of my worries. My two favorite shows are Duck Dynasty and Downton Abbey....I homeschool my children.....people, I am weird.
I said in a previous post how those in scripture fasted to prepare for a movement of God in their lives. I am beside myself with anticipation and excitement because I feel God moving. Last night, I sat in a meeting at my church about changes our denomination is making in the way of evangelism, and I felt like the authors of this new movement had read Interrupted, 7, and possibly, my mind. I listened to discussion about evangelism and reaching beyond the church doors and meeting people where they are, I fought back tears of gratitude to God for allowing me to be part of this, for preparing my heart for where He is leading, and I began to see it. I began to see the past few months falling into place. Right now, I am shouting Hallelujah, our God is Mighty and Real and Powerful and He allows us to be the hands and feet of Jesus in a hurting world. I can't accurately intimate in words right now how overwhelmed I am by the Spirit, but friends, He is here and He is working and to know the Holy Spirit began moving in me months ago, I began to understand how a fast serves to prepare. What else is there to say but: Praise God from whom all blessings flow, praise Him all creatures here below, praise Him above Thee heavenly host, Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!
Now on to the clothing part of 7. I can't wait to see what God has in store....no pun intended.....
Wait, come again? Didn't you say thirty days? Two weeks is just fourteen days. Yes, yes, I'm aware. I also said I would never leave my job and stay home with my children, that I would never live in the state of Alabama, and that I would never wear Toms (this was before I learned about the company and discovered they made adorable wedges), so there you go. And, did I mention that Jen Hatmaker got paid for her thirty day experiment. I know you're disappointed, but allow me to cease the snarkiness and explain. This was one of the hardest things I've ever done. My husband and I spent seven days ravenous, grumpy, and unpleasant (if you don't believe me ask anyone in my Sunday school class), and since we love each other and our children, we decided it would probably be best to shorten the food portion of our 7 fast to fourteen days. Cheap attempt to ease my conscience: the bible study only recommended seven days, so even Hatmaker foresaw the limitations of this style of fast.
Did I miss the point? Was 14 days long enough to listen for God's voice over the din of the incessant stomach growling and through the throbbing pain of my brain pounding out of my skull? God speaks when we listen, and I truly sought to position myself to hear, so I'll share what I discovered through my 7 experiment with food. First, I'll cover the shallow, surface-y physical lessons then I'll explore the spiritual lessons.
It would appear that caffeine is a drug, and I'm thinking about contacting the FDA about sugar, as well. Hello, caffeine withdrawal....which I expected. I did not expect to ache all over and wish for someone to knock me out until it all passed. I have never struggled with a drug addiction, praise God, but I imagine my experience is similar to what someone going through detox might feel. My body's response to dropping sugar and processed foods cold turkey is not what I expected. I imagined it would throw me a party complete with endless energy, clear skin, and a ten pound weight loss. Let's just say it welcomed me with a large glass of aches, pain, and misery.
Which got me to thinking......what on earth am I feeding my body, and not just my body, what on earth am I feeding my children? Fighting the urge to eat an entire box of peanut butter crackers, I decided to do a little light reading and downloaded a copy of Michael Pollan's In Defense of Food. As Americans, we worry more about what we eat and how many Omega-3's we're consuming than any other culture on the planet, yet our waistlines are expanding at record rates. How depressing to learn that we are becoming a generation not expected to outlive our parents' generation! We believe that Fruit Loops injected with whole grains or whatever other buzzword the media heaps onto our processed plates is healthier than a serving of spinach and squash. For the first time in my life, I began to think seriously about what chemicals I was feeding my family.
7, it seems, is about discomfort, and beyond the obvious physical discomfort, I also stepped out of my own comfort zone. I shopped in an organic grocery store for the first time and felt as if I had entered an alternate universe, where everyone knew my secret: I have no idea how to navigate this place. Yes, I was the lady wandering aimlessly in circles trying to find organic sweet potatoes. I began to think about how my food made it from the garden to the aisles of Publix. How many miles? What percent of the profit did the rice farmers receive? I discovered free trade web sites that provide not only food but also fair wages and real opportunity for the materially impoverished. My husband and I are even talking about planting a garden! 7 is forcing me to burst my safe little bubble and peer into the real world beyond the majestic shores of the United States. And....I love it!
You see, 7 is teaching me so much about my relationship not only with God but also with the world and my responsibility to see those outside my sweet little circle as Christ sees them: with love. He's teaching me to actually see them to understand that it is no longer acceptable to pass by and ignore them.
Throughout this process, I craved foods I loved but had declared off limits. When my stomach growled instead of reaching for a quick fix snack, I waited until the next meal. I felt discomfort, and I was reminded of those who have no choice, who live with the discomfort of real hunger, not the spoiled American girl who decided she could only eat 10 (yeah, another cheat) wholesome, filling foods. I allowed myself to visualize those who sit in the slums of India and long for anything to offer their children and I prayed for them. I cried for them. Annie and I even researched several countries in an attempt to understand what they eat and to learn more about the impoverished of this world because I don't want her to ever ignore the least of these.
We spend so much time working long hours to desperately provide our children the best of everything, but by their birthright, our children already have the best of everything. We sit in an ivory tower doing whatever we can to protect our children from a scraped knee much less a heart that breaks for the least. I'm learning that I can no longer reconcile Christ and the world to merge my American dream with my faith to compartmentalize obedience to Jesus into a safe little box. Yes, Lord, send me, as long as they have indoor plumbing, sweet tea, and hot showers. Don't discomfort me.
I realize I can't save the world, but if my family and I can step out in radical obedience, the kind Jesus expects, and follow his commands to assist wherever we are called, even if it's down the street, then our small acts of obedience could result in big results for the kingdom. Jesus tells us in John we'll face trouble, persecution even. Ask yourself, "Have I ever been ostracized, ridiculed, or even discomforted by my walk with Christ?" Not fitting into a size eight jeans does not qualify as hardship. Being called a "Jesus freak" is not persecution. 7 is teaching me that I've been living just like everyone else. My life isn't looking radically different because of my walk with Christ......and it should. What am I afraid of? Looking weird? Clearly, weird is the least of my worries. My two favorite shows are Duck Dynasty and Downton Abbey....I homeschool my children.....people, I am weird.
I said in a previous post how those in scripture fasted to prepare for a movement of God in their lives. I am beside myself with anticipation and excitement because I feel God moving. Last night, I sat in a meeting at my church about changes our denomination is making in the way of evangelism, and I felt like the authors of this new movement had read Interrupted, 7, and possibly, my mind. I listened to discussion about evangelism and reaching beyond the church doors and meeting people where they are, I fought back tears of gratitude to God for allowing me to be part of this, for preparing my heart for where He is leading, and I began to see it. I began to see the past few months falling into place. Right now, I am shouting Hallelujah, our God is Mighty and Real and Powerful and He allows us to be the hands and feet of Jesus in a hurting world. I can't accurately intimate in words right now how overwhelmed I am by the Spirit, but friends, He is here and He is working and to know the Holy Spirit began moving in me months ago, I began to understand how a fast serves to prepare. What else is there to say but: Praise God from whom all blessings flow, praise Him all creatures here below, praise Him above Thee heavenly host, Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!
Now on to the clothing part of 7. I can't wait to see what God has in store....no pun intended.....
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Enter 7
Change is difficult, it's uncomfortable, it isn't fun. Change may require letting go of some things I enjoy, things I like, things that have become idols in my life and now own me rather than me owning them. But what if through letting go, I discover that I've not even begun to scratch the surface of what God has in store....what if my possessions, my idols, are clouding my eyes from the "hope to which he has called, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe...that same power that he exerted when he raised Christ from the dead." (Ephesians 1:18-20) What if I'm depending on my own strength, my own stuff for power and in essence saying, "no, thank you" to God who offers us the same power he exerted when he raised Jesus? Hello, that might help in overcoming challenges I can't seem to surmount on my own; while I sit and whine, God is saying, "Let go and let me." God predestined us to good works that He planned for us before we were even on this earth. Am I missing my calling because I'm clinging too hard to the American dream and missing God's dream for my life?
Enter 7:Staging Your Own Mutiny Against Excess. I've mentioned before that I have really been struggling with God in certain areas of my life, many which hinge on my simply opening my palm and allowing him to pry from it what I think I need to live fulfilled, yet if I simply trusted Him to replace it with what He has in store, how much more purposeful will this life become and to His glory. I believe I've grown far too comfortable with earning money, spending it on me and my kids, buying stuff because I can, because I want, not because I need. It's brought me to a place of discomfort, robbing me of joy and peace. Who'd have thought more, more, more would leave me empty, empty, empty? While someone dies of hunger every 16 seconds, Americans are drowning in heart disease, obesity, and processed foods. So, I read 7 in November, and I've been sitting uncomfortably on the precipice of letting go of stubborness and falling into obedience ever since. Today, I jump.
7 is based on the idea of biblical fasting and encourages us to conquer one area of our lives each month, letting go of what holds us back, exploring the idea of global justice and mission and our role as Christians in that. It is removing some of the clutter and junk in my life to make room for the Holy Spirit. Why a fast? When Esther was to go before the king to plead for the preservation of her people, she fasted. Daniel fasted and chose to eat what was healthy, shunning the rich cuisine of Babylon. When Christ was readying himself to enter the mission field, he fasted. When God was up to something huge in scripture, His people fasted. I believe God is up to something in my life and in my generation, and I want to be prepared. I love what Hatmaker says about fasting, "fasting is an intentional reduction, a deliberate abstinence to summon God's movement in our lives. A fast creates margin for God to move...A fast is not necessarily something we offer God, but it assists us in offering ourselves" (21) Or, as Bill Bright, founder of Campus Crusade says, "It is exchanging the needs of the physical body for those of the spiritual" (21).
So today, I begin month one, Food. My husband and I will eat the same seven foods for a month. And the winners are: chicken, eggs, (not intended to imply I know which came first), sweet potatoes, spinach, grapes for me, trail mix for Trav, bell peppers, and brown rice. What do I hope will happen? (besides losing a few pounds) I am not going to limit what the Holy Spirit can accomplish in this. For once, I enter into something with no expectation, no preconceived notion; I enter with the prayer that I will make space for Him to move and move He will. My prayer is to let go of what keeps me from Him, from what keeps me from truly surrendering all to Jesus. Am I nervous? Yes. But excited to see what God has in store. I'm ready for the transforming power of Christ to change my family and me into missional followers who think about how our behavior affects others, who are so in love with Jesus that we can't wait to let go of "everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles and runs with perseverance the race marked out for us!" (Hebrews 12:1)
Enter 7:Staging Your Own Mutiny Against Excess. I've mentioned before that I have really been struggling with God in certain areas of my life, many which hinge on my simply opening my palm and allowing him to pry from it what I think I need to live fulfilled, yet if I simply trusted Him to replace it with what He has in store, how much more purposeful will this life become and to His glory. I believe I've grown far too comfortable with earning money, spending it on me and my kids, buying stuff because I can, because I want, not because I need. It's brought me to a place of discomfort, robbing me of joy and peace. Who'd have thought more, more, more would leave me empty, empty, empty? While someone dies of hunger every 16 seconds, Americans are drowning in heart disease, obesity, and processed foods. So, I read 7 in November, and I've been sitting uncomfortably on the precipice of letting go of stubborness and falling into obedience ever since. Today, I jump.
7 is based on the idea of biblical fasting and encourages us to conquer one area of our lives each month, letting go of what holds us back, exploring the idea of global justice and mission and our role as Christians in that. It is removing some of the clutter and junk in my life to make room for the Holy Spirit. Why a fast? When Esther was to go before the king to plead for the preservation of her people, she fasted. Daniel fasted and chose to eat what was healthy, shunning the rich cuisine of Babylon. When Christ was readying himself to enter the mission field, he fasted. When God was up to something huge in scripture, His people fasted. I believe God is up to something in my life and in my generation, and I want to be prepared. I love what Hatmaker says about fasting, "fasting is an intentional reduction, a deliberate abstinence to summon God's movement in our lives. A fast creates margin for God to move...A fast is not necessarily something we offer God, but it assists us in offering ourselves" (21) Or, as Bill Bright, founder of Campus Crusade says, "It is exchanging the needs of the physical body for those of the spiritual" (21).
So today, I begin month one, Food. My husband and I will eat the same seven foods for a month. And the winners are: chicken, eggs, (not intended to imply I know which came first), sweet potatoes, spinach, grapes for me, trail mix for Trav, bell peppers, and brown rice. What do I hope will happen? (besides losing a few pounds) I am not going to limit what the Holy Spirit can accomplish in this. For once, I enter into something with no expectation, no preconceived notion; I enter with the prayer that I will make space for Him to move and move He will. My prayer is to let go of what keeps me from Him, from what keeps me from truly surrendering all to Jesus. Am I nervous? Yes. But excited to see what God has in store. I'm ready for the transforming power of Christ to change my family and me into missional followers who think about how our behavior affects others, who are so in love with Jesus that we can't wait to let go of "everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles and runs with perseverance the race marked out for us!" (Hebrews 12:1)
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
May I Wash Your Feet?
Every now and then, God reveals to me the places where I've taken the focus from Him and placed it firmly on me. Sometimes it is a whisper like a mom humming gently to her toddler as she rocks him after a fall; other times it's a startling shout like the scream of that same mom when her sweet toddler reaches for the hot eye of a stove or decides to chase a ball into the street....not that I speak from experience. It seems I have the kind of personality where selfishness resides comfortably despite my best efforts to oust it, so let's just say, I am probably a bit more familiar with the "hot eye" scream. When I was in high school, I dreamed of becoming an actress, so I could be famous. Just seeing that in print makes me want to crawl under my couch, but that would require moving all the toys I've hidden there. (I'd like to take this time to apologize to my friends who had to put up with me), but alas, it gets worse. I entered broadcasting to become a famous anchor. (I apologize for telling everyone it was because I was such a great writer, which again, seriously, a great writer?) Maybe it was growing up in a tiny town with a fear of drowning in boring anonymity.....just call me George Bailey.
Somewhere along the way, God shifted my career focus away from me to others, and I became a teacher simply because I felt it was where my calling met my true gift and offered the most opportunity to serve. God redirected my focus from me to Him, and I have never looked back in regret. It seems there is no such thing as a proud servant, and Jesus clearly throughout scripture calls us to pattern our lives after his and become humble servants.
Never is Jesus's humble servant attitude more clearly illustrated than in John 13, where after eating with his disciples, "he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples' feet drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him." So often, I think we read this and think, wow, that's nice; Jesus washed his disciples' feet. For me, this story came to life twenty years ago at a rehearsal for my church's youth ensemble Pure Heart. It's one of those memories where certain moments are carved in my mind like stone yet certain details fade into a hazy recollection. What I vividly remember is our director Gloria returning to the choir room after a short absence with a tub of some kind. She then knelt at my chair, removed my shoes, and began to wash my feet. I don't remember what we were singing or what prompted the moment, but I do recall rather than feeling awkward or bewildered, I felt an overwhelming sense of the Holy Spirit and began to weep. While I realize that sweet, yet human, Gloria was the one washing my feet, I felt the presence of Christ like never before and in that moment, whatever Gloria wished to happen, for me, I understood that the King of all Creation had come to serve and it overwhelmed me in a way I cannot explain.
Looking back, I wonder what that was like for her and if I could I ever do that? The idea of washing someone's feet is, let's admit, weird in our society. I find it to be something like knocking on a friend's door and asking, "May I scrub your toilets?" (If any friends would like to offer that service....) In the IVP Bible Background Commentary, Craig Keener explains that washing someone's feet was considered servile and reserved for servants or wives. For Christ to wash his disciples feet was an expression of pure humility. "His act violates cultural status boundaries so thoroughly that Peter finds it unthinkable." Peter, though dense at times, I believe, grasped who Christ truly was. Just glimpse at the description of God's throne room in Revelation for an image of just how holy and awesome He is. He created all out of nothing. I couldn't will my waffles not to burn this morning, yet Jesus was there when the foundations of the earth were laid and He was willing to wash the dirty feet of his disciples and pay the price for the dirty state of our souls. If you aren't wanting to jump up and shout "hallelujah" after reading that.....
Year after year, on this first day of January, I resolve to accomplish something with a fervor that barely makes it to see which teams will even make the Super Bowl. My resolutions are always focused on me: lose ten pounds, get organized (you may stop laughing now), simplify. I resolve to make myself better to improve me. The past few months I believe God has been shouting at me to beware of the stove and again the warning is once again dealing with my selfish tendency to focus on me. I feel closest to my King when I put self aside and focus on others, so this year rather than resolve to lose the same ten pounds that seem to keep sneaking into my life every January, my resolution is to wash more feet. That's it. May this year be the year where I conquer my self-consciousness, self-focus, self-concern, and wash feet in love, no matter how dirty, bruised, or awkward it may be. I close with a poem by Ruth Harms Calkin that beautiully sums up this idea of service. When it all comes down to it, our mission is to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and to love our neighbor as ourselves. With that as my new year focus, I believe everything else will fall beautifully into place.
Somewhere along the way, God shifted my career focus away from me to others, and I became a teacher simply because I felt it was where my calling met my true gift and offered the most opportunity to serve. God redirected my focus from me to Him, and I have never looked back in regret. It seems there is no such thing as a proud servant, and Jesus clearly throughout scripture calls us to pattern our lives after his and become humble servants.
Never is Jesus's humble servant attitude more clearly illustrated than in John 13, where after eating with his disciples, "he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples' feet drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him." So often, I think we read this and think, wow, that's nice; Jesus washed his disciples' feet. For me, this story came to life twenty years ago at a rehearsal for my church's youth ensemble Pure Heart. It's one of those memories where certain moments are carved in my mind like stone yet certain details fade into a hazy recollection. What I vividly remember is our director Gloria returning to the choir room after a short absence with a tub of some kind. She then knelt at my chair, removed my shoes, and began to wash my feet. I don't remember what we were singing or what prompted the moment, but I do recall rather than feeling awkward or bewildered, I felt an overwhelming sense of the Holy Spirit and began to weep. While I realize that sweet, yet human, Gloria was the one washing my feet, I felt the presence of Christ like never before and in that moment, whatever Gloria wished to happen, for me, I understood that the King of all Creation had come to serve and it overwhelmed me in a way I cannot explain.
Looking back, I wonder what that was like for her and if I could I ever do that? The idea of washing someone's feet is, let's admit, weird in our society. I find it to be something like knocking on a friend's door and asking, "May I scrub your toilets?" (If any friends would like to offer that service....) In the IVP Bible Background Commentary, Craig Keener explains that washing someone's feet was considered servile and reserved for servants or wives. For Christ to wash his disciples feet was an expression of pure humility. "His act violates cultural status boundaries so thoroughly that Peter finds it unthinkable." Peter, though dense at times, I believe, grasped who Christ truly was. Just glimpse at the description of God's throne room in Revelation for an image of just how holy and awesome He is. He created all out of nothing. I couldn't will my waffles not to burn this morning, yet Jesus was there when the foundations of the earth were laid and He was willing to wash the dirty feet of his disciples and pay the price for the dirty state of our souls. If you aren't wanting to jump up and shout "hallelujah" after reading that.....
Year after year, on this first day of January, I resolve to accomplish something with a fervor that barely makes it to see which teams will even make the Super Bowl. My resolutions are always focused on me: lose ten pounds, get organized (you may stop laughing now), simplify. I resolve to make myself better to improve me. The past few months I believe God has been shouting at me to beware of the stove and again the warning is once again dealing with my selfish tendency to focus on me. I feel closest to my King when I put self aside and focus on others, so this year rather than resolve to lose the same ten pounds that seem to keep sneaking into my life every January, my resolution is to wash more feet. That's it. May this year be the year where I conquer my self-consciousness, self-focus, self-concern, and wash feet in love, no matter how dirty, bruised, or awkward it may be. I close with a poem by Ruth Harms Calkin that beautiully sums up this idea of service. When it all comes down to it, our mission is to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and to love our neighbor as ourselves. With that as my new year focus, I believe everything else will fall beautifully into place.
I Wonder
You know, Lord, how I serve You
With a great emotional fervor
In the limelight.
You know how eagerly I speak for You
At a woman's club.
You know how I effervesce when I promote
A fellowship group.
You know my genuine enthusiasm
At a Bible study.
But how would I react, I wonder
If you pointed to a basin of water
And asked me to wash the calloused feet
Of a bent and wrinkled old woman
Day after day
Month after month
In a room where nobody saw
And nobody knew.
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