We've all heard that little voice; at least, I hope, we've all heard that little voice. You know the one that urges you to call the friend whose name suddenly jumps into your head, and now, you can't shake the feeling that she needs to talk to someone, but not just anyone, you. Sometimes the voice prods you to take a different running route where you discover a distraught mom outside of her broken-down car frantically pressing the power button on her cell phone, the one that she forgot to charge that morning. Moments that are beyond ordinary coincidences; moments when you know that voice was the sweet sound of the Holy Spirit.
I'm ashamed to admit that I've often ignored that voice or didn't hear it because I was too busy doing something important like checking out the most recent pictures of my friend's children on Facebook. Things that clearly need immediate attention. Lately, I've been prayerfully seeking to really hear and discern what the Holy Spirit has planned for me on a daily basis. Often, I'll sense Him prodding me toward a certain task, one where I stop and ask, "Really? Are you sure?" Usually, the task requires me to step out of my comfort zone and continue running for about 100 miles until I'm no longer in the same area code with said comfort zone. The message will come across loud and clear, and just to be sure, I'll pray about it. "This.....this is what I need to do, Lord?" "Yes." So, I'll pick up my Bible, open it, and pray, "If this is really from you Lord, allow me to receive confirmation."
Take today for instance; I felt the urge to call and offer my unrequested minimal assistance in a small mission opportunity. My first thought was but that person will think I've lost my ever-loving mind. What if they think I'm a weirdo? Apparently, I'm still working on getting over worrying about what people think of me, which is clearly a requirement for true Christian service.....and let's face it I am a weirdo. So I prayed to be sure, and the feeling didn't abate. To make doubly sure, I decided to read one more page in my bible study to see if I received any ground-breaking epiphany of confirmation, which I did, so much so that I got chills from head to toe and paused to put my hands in the air in a moment of praise. Then I decided to dry my hair and pray one more time.....just to be sure. Finally, I grabbed my cell phone and checked my email. Realizing it was now or never, I dialed with shaking fingers and a wildly beating heart, my acquaintance's number and discovered wonderful possibilities for true, meaningful mission work to be done in Haiti. I mean, seriously, what was I really afraid of? It was just so far beyond my comfort zone that I struggled to be obedient.
How many kingdom-building opportunities am I missing because basically I'm afraid of what people might think? Will they think I'm just trying to show how righteous I am? Will they think I'm crazy to think I could pull that off? Insecurity rears its ugly head every time I think I hear the Spirit speak. And, I want to shout to myself: it's not about you!!!! It's about Him! But, I'm trying to focus on listening more intently and obeying because by hearing and obeying, I am rewarded beyond measure with the opportunity to serve Christ in truly tangible ways. That trumps insecurity every time!
Speaking of missional living, perhaps I've mentioned this book I read by Jen Hatmaker called 7? (And just when you thought I was finally going to write a post shorter than 20 paragraphs....) If you like me have never considered what it really means when the tag in your sweater says Made in China, this book is truly eye-opening. One aspect that really spoke to me was the idea of becoming a more aware consumer, especially the concept of fair trade. There are a plethora of opportunities to shop in ways that allow you to participate in both kingdom-building and in empowering men and women across the world to build small businesses that benefit their villages. These artisans create beautiful goods and are offered a fair, sustainable wage for their products. Many of the websites that I will list in a moment are run by churches and Christian organizations that have partnered with villages in developing nations, and many of the profits from sales are used to provide care for orphans. So I encourage you to consider some of these sites when Christmas shopping and to learn more about fair trade and how partnering to build business relationships with artisans in these countries also provides an excellent opportunity to both spread and live the gospel.
http://livefashionable.com
http://www.cometogethertrading.com
http://www.redearthtradingco.com
http://www.furnacehillscoffee.com/index
http://preemptivelove.org
www.noondaycollection.com
http://goodnewsgoods.com
www.theopenarmshop.com
www.meadscorner.com
www.commonthreadz.com
www.Groobs.com
www.globalgirlfriend.com
www.3seams.com
http://www.ravenandlily.com
http://www.numanainc.com
http://www.pyxispath.com
www.tradeasone.com
www.thehungersite.org
www.funkyfishdesigns.com
www.bethejoy.com
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Saturday, November 3, 2012
What Breaks Your Heart?
You can blame what my husband is lovingly donning my mid-life crisis on Kelly Minter and Jen Hatmaker. I don't know these girls personally, and I am sure they are lovely ladies, but their books and suggestions have turned my world on its head. Blame is a strong word...I guess, if anything, I feel they inspired a big movement of the Holy Spirit in my life.
It began as a simple, yet sincere prayer, prompted by Kelly Minter's bible study on Nehemiah. "Lord, break my heart for what breaks Yours." That was it; my offering to the Lord. At first, not much happened. This prayer was followed a few weeks later by a simple question to my Sunday School class, while mediating a study on The Hunger Games (so in an odd way, Suzanne Collins also bears some of the fault for this epiphany). "Why is the church failing to transform our culture, which clearly seems to be crumbling all around us?" A simple, rhetorical question where, like any good teacher, I had no real answer to supply. After Sunday school, a dear friend asked if I had heard of Jen Hatmaker, to which I replied, "Yes, I follow her on Twitter." The next thing I know I'm reading her book Interrupted, and then suddenly, wham, I am on the floor of my room in fetal position, rocking back and forth in a fit of self-condemnation, wondering how I've spent my entire life in the church, 29 years as a Christian, and missed the whole point. Or, to quote Hatmaker, "[God] turned my undiagnosed tension into a full-blown spiritual crisis." I find myself not in a midlife crisis but in a spiritual one, one that reveals that I have sorely neglected my call to love the least of these......
If you're confused, join many of my friends and family and allow me to explain in a completely manic and jumbled way because frankly, that's how I'm feeling right now: jumbled and manic. Interrupted and 7 like, Radical by David Platt, and Crazy Love by Francis Chan, all of which I read soon after reading Hatmaker, examine the church vs. the American Dream. Have we become so complacent pursuing.....stuff.....that we've completely missed the boat on what our Christianity is meant to be? I realized I was using the "Word to defend my life rather than define it" (Hatmaker). It became clear to me that what was breaking God's heart was my lack of obedience to the Word. I mean, if the church is being responsive to the call to love the least of these how can stats like the following even exist:
* Of the 6 billion people on Earth, about 1.2 billion live on $.23 a day.
* Half the world lives on less than $2 a day
* Someone dies of hunger every 16 SECONDS!
* Last year 22 million people died of preventable diseases: 10 million were children
*27 million children and adults are trapped in slavery; more today than ever before!
* More than 143 million children in the world have been orphaned or abandoned
* 40 percent of the world lacks basic water sanitation, resulting in disease, death, and loss of immunity, while Americans consume 26 billion liters of bottled water a DAY
* 40 million people die annually from starvation, disease, and malnutrition, while 65% of American adults are overweight (Hatmaker)
Don't even get me started on the billions of people who have never heard or accepted the gospel; people who are lost. Hello?! Church, where are we? Where am I? I can't tell you the last time I really shared the gospel with someone, and I have family and friends who I know are lost, yet I seem more concerned with my 401K than the fact that someone dies of hunger every 16 seconds.
I felt the Holy Spirit like never before reminding me that faith without works is dead, that Jesus came to serve, not be served, that I must take up the cross and deny self. I asked God to break my heart for what breaks His and for two weeks, I've felt like what Jacob must have felt like wrestling with God about what it truly means to die to self and live for Christ. The Holy Spirit has been revealing that, like the Pharisees, my knowledge of the Scriptures, my self-righteous condemnation of all who just "don't get it" amount to nothing without mercy and justice. You see, I'm embarrassed to say, for years, I read, let my good "works" shine before men so they may see them and glorify God, as my works being "my" goodness, my obedience to legal rules of not drinking to excess, swearing, or being seen in places I shouldn't be seen to attending every bible study in town. For the first time, it hit me, my good works are not about me or my warped sense of self-righteousness, my works are justice, kindness, mercy, and service. The least of these!
During the past few weeks, I feel as though God has begun separating the wheat from the chaff in my life, and I am being shaken all over the threshing floor, knowing that through His grace and mercy what will eventually remain is the good stuff, but the emotional winnowing is leaving me raw emotionally. Just ask my husband who actually had to take over reading the bible for me during Sunday school, so I could sob over my revelation. God has brought me to brokenness, is bringing me to the end of self, so he can recreate me in the mission of Christ. The Holy Spirit is revealing what in me is breaking his heart and breaking mine over it. I can't quite explain the battle that's ensued, but I have found myself in a fit of simultaneous rebellion and surrender. "Yes, Lord, send me." "No, I can't give that up."
Keep in mind, this is my jumbled, raw making sense of the Holy Spirit at work, so I don't want to get into legalism vs. freedom here, but I'm feeling the strong call of Christ to live Matthew 25 and Isaiah 58, not because I have to, but because Jesus told me in John, if I love him I will obey Him. "Having been freed from sin, I am enslaved to righteousness" Romans 6:17 Basically, if Christ is in me then I have been transformed, which means I can't continue to live life as though Christ isn't at work in me. I can no longer live "with an anemic faith and in a church that robs Christ followers of vitality and repels the rest of the world" (Hatmaker) ; it's contrary to the very faith I claim to have. While I feel that I've been a "good" Christian by comfortable American standards, I've not been living radically transformed, and that, I believe, is what the Holy Spirit revealed is breaking His heart, where I'm concerned. Hatmaker writes, "If we've learned anything from the rebellious nation of Israel.....it is this: God is supremely concerned with our motives, and our works only count when they match our intentions. There is no back door into salvation, rerouted around the sacrifice of Christ. Otherwise, the whole earth could gain heaven by good works, and His day on the cross would be pointless." So, yes, I am saved by grace through faith, not by works, but my faith without works is dead. I'm ready to serve in love and because I love the wonderful Savior who sacrificed all for me.
The two greatest commands are to love the Lord my God with all my heart, soul, and mind then to love my neighbor as myself. My neighbor has been the sweet little microcosm of my family, which is important, but there's a big city, a big state, a big world out there that needs serving and saving. It's time to change, which is frightening, but I love what Brandon Hatmaker says in Interrupted, "The good news is that God can be found right in the middle of it as well. God does not change, but He uses change to change us. He sends us on journeys that bring us to the end of ourselves. We often feel out of control, yet if we embrace His leading, we may find ourselves on the ride of our lives."
I'm ready for the ride of my life. I'm tired of being consumed with what everyone else thinks, with what sort of impression I (there's that selfish obsession creeping back in) make. I'm tired of looking to stuff to fill a void that can only be filled by God and service to Him. Seriously, how many pair of boots does one girl need. My daughter has three coats and two zip-hooded fleece....seriously?! I'm tired of giving "just enough." I'm ready to give until it hurts. I'm tired of "demonstrating religiosity without transformation." I'm tired of claiming to be different because of Christ, while keeping one foot firmly planted in the world. Since when do I care so much about fitting in? This is the girl who wore wooden clogs and knee boots in middle school to be different. As Hatmaker points out, "Jesus never fit in. He was never the cool guy." That's something I can embrace; seriously, cool eluded me the minute I put on a sparkly, silver sweater with sequins sewn on (by my sweet mom) in the outline of a saxophone to go to a band dance. Need I say more?
So what does this mean for me, for the Johnsons? I've been overpowered by the Holy Spirit, and I can't describe the rush of love and joy I'm feeling by beginning the process of resurrendering to His call on my life; that it's not about climbing the ladder of success to a wealthy retirement and kids who are set on the same path. It's about loving and serving and teaching my children to love and serve period. What does that look like for us? I don't know, yet, but I can assure you I'm praying for God to reveal what's next. Today and everyday, I'm prayerfully considering how my family and I can serve in His name each day in our everyday lives. I plan to follow this process on the blog, as well as my journey homeschooling, among other things. I want to leave you with the text of Matthew 25 and Isaiah 58 and ask that you will consider asking God to break your heart for what is breaking His and that together we may begin the process of transforming the church to become more missional and thus, transform the world.
Matthew 25: 35-40
Then the king will say to those on his right, "Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me. Then the righteous will answer him, "Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and visit you? And the king will answer them, I tell you the truth, just as you did for one of the least of these brothers or sisters of mine, you did it for me."
Isaiah 58:6-10
No, this is the kind of fast I want. I want you to remove the sinful chains, to tear away the ropes of the burdensome yoke, to set free the oppressed, and to break every burdensome yoke. I want you to share your food with the hungry and to provide shelter for homeless, oppressed people. When you see someone naked, clothe him! Don't turn your back on your own flesh and blood! Then your light will shine like the sunrise, your restoration will quickly arrive; your godly behavior will go before you, and the Lord's splendor will be your rear guard. Then you will call out, and the Lord will respond; you will cry out , and he will reply, "Here I am." You must remove the burdensome yoke from among you and stop pointing fingers and speaking sinfully. You must actively help the hungry and feed the oppressed. Then your light will dispel the darkness, and your darkness will be transformed into noonday.
James 2: 14-18
What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but does not have works? Can this kind of faith save him? If a brother or sister is poorly clothed or lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, "Go in peace, keep warm and eat well," but you do not give them what the body needs, what good is it? So also faith, if it does not have works, is dead being by itself. But someone will say, "You have faith and I have works." Show me your faith without works and I will show you faith by my works.
It began as a simple, yet sincere prayer, prompted by Kelly Minter's bible study on Nehemiah. "Lord, break my heart for what breaks Yours." That was it; my offering to the Lord. At first, not much happened. This prayer was followed a few weeks later by a simple question to my Sunday School class, while mediating a study on The Hunger Games (so in an odd way, Suzanne Collins also bears some of the fault for this epiphany). "Why is the church failing to transform our culture, which clearly seems to be crumbling all around us?" A simple, rhetorical question where, like any good teacher, I had no real answer to supply. After Sunday school, a dear friend asked if I had heard of Jen Hatmaker, to which I replied, "Yes, I follow her on Twitter." The next thing I know I'm reading her book Interrupted, and then suddenly, wham, I am on the floor of my room in fetal position, rocking back and forth in a fit of self-condemnation, wondering how I've spent my entire life in the church, 29 years as a Christian, and missed the whole point. Or, to quote Hatmaker, "[God] turned my undiagnosed tension into a full-blown spiritual crisis." I find myself not in a midlife crisis but in a spiritual one, one that reveals that I have sorely neglected my call to love the least of these......
If you're confused, join many of my friends and family and allow me to explain in a completely manic and jumbled way because frankly, that's how I'm feeling right now: jumbled and manic. Interrupted and 7 like, Radical by David Platt, and Crazy Love by Francis Chan, all of which I read soon after reading Hatmaker, examine the church vs. the American Dream. Have we become so complacent pursuing.....stuff.....that we've completely missed the boat on what our Christianity is meant to be? I realized I was using the "Word to defend my life rather than define it" (Hatmaker). It became clear to me that what was breaking God's heart was my lack of obedience to the Word. I mean, if the church is being responsive to the call to love the least of these how can stats like the following even exist:
* Of the 6 billion people on Earth, about 1.2 billion live on $.23 a day.
* Half the world lives on less than $2 a day
* Someone dies of hunger every 16 SECONDS!
* Last year 22 million people died of preventable diseases: 10 million were children
*27 million children and adults are trapped in slavery; more today than ever before!
* More than 143 million children in the world have been orphaned or abandoned
* 40 percent of the world lacks basic water sanitation, resulting in disease, death, and loss of immunity, while Americans consume 26 billion liters of bottled water a DAY
* 40 million people die annually from starvation, disease, and malnutrition, while 65% of American adults are overweight (Hatmaker)
Don't even get me started on the billions of people who have never heard or accepted the gospel; people who are lost. Hello?! Church, where are we? Where am I? I can't tell you the last time I really shared the gospel with someone, and I have family and friends who I know are lost, yet I seem more concerned with my 401K than the fact that someone dies of hunger every 16 seconds.
I felt the Holy Spirit like never before reminding me that faith without works is dead, that Jesus came to serve, not be served, that I must take up the cross and deny self. I asked God to break my heart for what breaks His and for two weeks, I've felt like what Jacob must have felt like wrestling with God about what it truly means to die to self and live for Christ. The Holy Spirit has been revealing that, like the Pharisees, my knowledge of the Scriptures, my self-righteous condemnation of all who just "don't get it" amount to nothing without mercy and justice. You see, I'm embarrassed to say, for years, I read, let my good "works" shine before men so they may see them and glorify God, as my works being "my" goodness, my obedience to legal rules of not drinking to excess, swearing, or being seen in places I shouldn't be seen to attending every bible study in town. For the first time, it hit me, my good works are not about me or my warped sense of self-righteousness, my works are justice, kindness, mercy, and service. The least of these!
During the past few weeks, I feel as though God has begun separating the wheat from the chaff in my life, and I am being shaken all over the threshing floor, knowing that through His grace and mercy what will eventually remain is the good stuff, but the emotional winnowing is leaving me raw emotionally. Just ask my husband who actually had to take over reading the bible for me during Sunday school, so I could sob over my revelation. God has brought me to brokenness, is bringing me to the end of self, so he can recreate me in the mission of Christ. The Holy Spirit is revealing what in me is breaking his heart and breaking mine over it. I can't quite explain the battle that's ensued, but I have found myself in a fit of simultaneous rebellion and surrender. "Yes, Lord, send me." "No, I can't give that up."
Keep in mind, this is my jumbled, raw making sense of the Holy Spirit at work, so I don't want to get into legalism vs. freedom here, but I'm feeling the strong call of Christ to live Matthew 25 and Isaiah 58, not because I have to, but because Jesus told me in John, if I love him I will obey Him. "Having been freed from sin, I am enslaved to righteousness" Romans 6:17 Basically, if Christ is in me then I have been transformed, which means I can't continue to live life as though Christ isn't at work in me. I can no longer live "with an anemic faith and in a church that robs Christ followers of vitality and repels the rest of the world" (Hatmaker) ; it's contrary to the very faith I claim to have. While I feel that I've been a "good" Christian by comfortable American standards, I've not been living radically transformed, and that, I believe, is what the Holy Spirit revealed is breaking His heart, where I'm concerned. Hatmaker writes, "If we've learned anything from the rebellious nation of Israel.....it is this: God is supremely concerned with our motives, and our works only count when they match our intentions. There is no back door into salvation, rerouted around the sacrifice of Christ. Otherwise, the whole earth could gain heaven by good works, and His day on the cross would be pointless." So, yes, I am saved by grace through faith, not by works, but my faith without works is dead. I'm ready to serve in love and because I love the wonderful Savior who sacrificed all for me.
The two greatest commands are to love the Lord my God with all my heart, soul, and mind then to love my neighbor as myself. My neighbor has been the sweet little microcosm of my family, which is important, but there's a big city, a big state, a big world out there that needs serving and saving. It's time to change, which is frightening, but I love what Brandon Hatmaker says in Interrupted, "The good news is that God can be found right in the middle of it as well. God does not change, but He uses change to change us. He sends us on journeys that bring us to the end of ourselves. We often feel out of control, yet if we embrace His leading, we may find ourselves on the ride of our lives."
I'm ready for the ride of my life. I'm tired of being consumed with what everyone else thinks, with what sort of impression I (there's that selfish obsession creeping back in) make. I'm tired of looking to stuff to fill a void that can only be filled by God and service to Him. Seriously, how many pair of boots does one girl need. My daughter has three coats and two zip-hooded fleece....seriously?! I'm tired of giving "just enough." I'm ready to give until it hurts. I'm tired of "demonstrating religiosity without transformation." I'm tired of claiming to be different because of Christ, while keeping one foot firmly planted in the world. Since when do I care so much about fitting in? This is the girl who wore wooden clogs and knee boots in middle school to be different. As Hatmaker points out, "Jesus never fit in. He was never the cool guy." That's something I can embrace; seriously, cool eluded me the minute I put on a sparkly, silver sweater with sequins sewn on (by my sweet mom) in the outline of a saxophone to go to a band dance. Need I say more?
So what does this mean for me, for the Johnsons? I've been overpowered by the Holy Spirit, and I can't describe the rush of love and joy I'm feeling by beginning the process of resurrendering to His call on my life; that it's not about climbing the ladder of success to a wealthy retirement and kids who are set on the same path. It's about loving and serving and teaching my children to love and serve period. What does that look like for us? I don't know, yet, but I can assure you I'm praying for God to reveal what's next. Today and everyday, I'm prayerfully considering how my family and I can serve in His name each day in our everyday lives. I plan to follow this process on the blog, as well as my journey homeschooling, among other things. I want to leave you with the text of Matthew 25 and Isaiah 58 and ask that you will consider asking God to break your heart for what is breaking His and that together we may begin the process of transforming the church to become more missional and thus, transform the world.
Matthew 25: 35-40
Then the king will say to those on his right, "Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me. Then the righteous will answer him, "Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and visit you? And the king will answer them, I tell you the truth, just as you did for one of the least of these brothers or sisters of mine, you did it for me."
Isaiah 58:6-10
No, this is the kind of fast I want. I want you to remove the sinful chains, to tear away the ropes of the burdensome yoke, to set free the oppressed, and to break every burdensome yoke. I want you to share your food with the hungry and to provide shelter for homeless, oppressed people. When you see someone naked, clothe him! Don't turn your back on your own flesh and blood! Then your light will shine like the sunrise, your restoration will quickly arrive; your godly behavior will go before you, and the Lord's splendor will be your rear guard. Then you will call out, and the Lord will respond; you will cry out , and he will reply, "Here I am." You must remove the burdensome yoke from among you and stop pointing fingers and speaking sinfully. You must actively help the hungry and feed the oppressed. Then your light will dispel the darkness, and your darkness will be transformed into noonday.
James 2: 14-18
What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but does not have works? Can this kind of faith save him? If a brother or sister is poorly clothed or lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, "Go in peace, keep warm and eat well," but you do not give them what the body needs, what good is it? So also faith, if it does not have works, is dead being by itself. But someone will say, "You have faith and I have works." Show me your faith without works and I will show you faith by my works.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
The Next Martha.....
I blame Parents magazine, really, for planting false seeds of creativity in my mind. Their captions cajole, "It's So Easy; Projects to Do With Your Kids; Fun and Memorable." If I remember correctly, the caption under our jack-o-lantern project of choice read, "so easy to make, it's scary." The only thing scarier was manuvering the hot glue gun, while watching my preschooler cut poster board with safety scissors on my carpet. What better way to spend an October afternoon following a morning of homeschooling than on a pumpkin project?!
After gaining a dose of confidence for so easily navigating the aisles of our local craft store, I came home full of optimism and even said to my children as I lugged our pumpkin into the house, "Take that, Martha." This, of course, was greeted by questioning looks of who's Martha? Martha, I'd like to take this moment to apologize for my vain outburst of pride. To the other Martha-wannabes who were born with my inability to do something as simple as tastefully decorate a Christmas tree, allow me to share some of the lessons I learned, so you, too, don't think that following the large, clearly marked aisles at Hobby Lobby also make you a craft expert.
1. Two months of preschool does not make your son an expert in using scissors. On a project that should have taken twenty minutes start to finish, I spent forty of those minutes cleaning up tiny slivers of green streamers and poster board shavings, yes, shavings.
2. The adjective, hot, in hot glue gun is a descriptive term. Just ask the large blister on my forefinger.
3. If your parenting magazine of choice says a project is "kid friendly" have a good chuckle and be prepared to say, "Don't do that." "Don't touch that." "Yes, the glittery craft foam is for the pumpkin; that's why we bought it. No, I don't think there will be any left because Mommy used forty square inches trying to cut a hole in the middle of a square for the belt buckle." "Yes! The glue gun is hot." "Those are Mommy scissors not little boy scissors." and so on.....
4. Your three-year-old son's idea of neat and your idea of neat reside in separate, distant universes.
5. Your six-year-old daughter will grow bored with watching you attempt to glue streamers and a flat hat to the top of your very round pumpkin.
6. Repeat after me, "I am not Martha Stewart, I am not Martha Stewart." Don't be disappointed if despite your best efforts, your witch pumpkin looks just like your kids constructed it.
Actually, when all was said and done, the kids and I had a great time, and our witch pumpkin looks, well, like a witch pumpkin; granted in the time it took us to build ours, Martha could have whipped up pumpkin witches for the entire state of Connecticut. But, perfection was never the goal; it was to enjoy the afternoon with my sweet little ones.
After gaining a dose of confidence for so easily navigating the aisles of our local craft store, I came home full of optimism and even said to my children as I lugged our pumpkin into the house, "Take that, Martha." This, of course, was greeted by questioning looks of who's Martha? Martha, I'd like to take this moment to apologize for my vain outburst of pride. To the other Martha-wannabes who were born with my inability to do something as simple as tastefully decorate a Christmas tree, allow me to share some of the lessons I learned, so you, too, don't think that following the large, clearly marked aisles at Hobby Lobby also make you a craft expert.
1. Two months of preschool does not make your son an expert in using scissors. On a project that should have taken twenty minutes start to finish, I spent forty of those minutes cleaning up tiny slivers of green streamers and poster board shavings, yes, shavings.
2. The adjective, hot, in hot glue gun is a descriptive term. Just ask the large blister on my forefinger.
3. If your parenting magazine of choice says a project is "kid friendly" have a good chuckle and be prepared to say, "Don't do that." "Don't touch that." "Yes, the glittery craft foam is for the pumpkin; that's why we bought it. No, I don't think there will be any left because Mommy used forty square inches trying to cut a hole in the middle of a square for the belt buckle." "Yes! The glue gun is hot." "Those are Mommy scissors not little boy scissors." and so on.....
4. Your three-year-old son's idea of neat and your idea of neat reside in separate, distant universes.
5. Your six-year-old daughter will grow bored with watching you attempt to glue streamers and a flat hat to the top of your very round pumpkin.
6. Repeat after me, "I am not Martha Stewart, I am not Martha Stewart." Don't be disappointed if despite your best efforts, your witch pumpkin looks just like your kids constructed it.
Actually, when all was said and done, the kids and I had a great time, and our witch pumpkin looks, well, like a witch pumpkin; granted in the time it took us to build ours, Martha could have whipped up pumpkin witches for the entire state of Connecticut. But, perfection was never the goal; it was to enjoy the afternoon with my sweet little ones.
Friday, September 7, 2012
"Southern" Belle
I sit under an umbrella, feet digging into the sand, watching my children frolic in the white-capping surf of the Gulf of Mexico. I sit and read the one publication, outside the Bible, that should be mandatory in all homes this side of the Mason Dixon, Southern Living. I don't know if it's the lounging lazily in the humidity reading my favorite periodical or if it's the languid cadence of the turquoise expanse pounding hypnotically before me, but I sit here, yup, still sitting, and ponder why I love this warm, friendly, inviting, mysterious, religious, complicated, beautiful piece of heaven also, usually lovingly, yet sometimes resentfully, known as the South. While it certainly bears the shame of its share of sins, the South has also been graced with a haunting beauty and mystery that sends many I know spending half of their lives figuring out how to escape the slow rhythm of a quiet, rural landscape for the cosmopolitan promise of success in the North or out West and the other half figuring out how to return to the inescapable, inexplicable fetter that sooner or later beckons them home. A disclaimer: I've never escaped the tie that binds me to the South. Sure, I've moved to big, southern cities like Atlanta and even blazoned trails out west to Dallas, and while I've visited New York and even California, I've never lived anywhere outside of this region. I've threatened to leave, but some esoteric force has always held me captive, and today, I created a list of reasons I believe explain why. So here are the reasons I love the South:
1. The Gulf of Mexico
Although Mexico claimed the naming rights, this body of water remains uniquely Southern. It kisses the shores of Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, and Texas, all deeply Southern. While I prefer to visit the Gulf in Alabama or Florida, I'm sure its charms extend to the other states, as well. There is nothing that compares to the white, sandy shores, dotted by a symphony of colorful umbrellas and tents all proudly displaying their owners' SEC allegiances. Palm trees mingle with giant arching oaks draped with Spanish moss. Fishing boats drift lazily by seafood dives that have graced the shores of the Gulf for generations, where gumbo and fried shrimp headline menus that have survived hurricanes and tropical storms.
2. Southern Writers
Every good reader knows all good writers are from the South....all except Hemingway, and I'm sure he wished he were from here; after all, he claimed Key West as his home, at least part of the time. From Welty to Faulkner to O'Connor to Lee to Williams to Capote to Bragg....my hands are getting tired..... Writers who artfully capture the tumultous past and uncertain future of a region haunted by past sins, a region seeking redemption from generations of individuals marred by the stubborn refusal to relinquish an archaic, injudicious ideology. Where even your great aunt is a master storyteller. How do you not love a culture that begins a tale with, "You know Maudie, yes, you know Maudie, your grandmother's cousin's best friend's boyfriend's aunt....anyway, she never could leave well enough alone." And after five minutes of your aunt's captivating yarn, you know Maudie and Herb and Floyd and anyone else who happens to dance into the narrative that has been spun so effortlessly you don't care that most of it probably never happened.....or maybe it did and that's what makes it so captivating. After any story told by a favorite relative, it's clear that Harper Lee did indeed write To Kill A Mockingbird because she writes it in the same language that all good Southern storytellers speak.
3. SEC Football, Swimming, Baseball, Basketball, well, all SEC sports because who doesn't love NCAA title winners
I'm an Alabamian, the crystal trophy has become so cozy here that it's building a permanent residence, or so I hear, based on Alabama's performance against Michigan last weekend. I'm also a huge UK fan, and if Calipari's team last year is any indication, I'm pretty sure a repeat performance is also in his future, too. As a southerner, I also know it isn't polite to brag, so I'll leave it at that, which brings me to reason number 4....
4. Southern Manners
We Southerners are a polite bunch. I've been to, er, other parts of the country, so I speak from experience. Even my Yankee friends (is it okay to say Yankee? since, I say this begrudgingly, the best baseball team in history proudly wears the banner, I'll assume yes) comment on how friendly we are here in this part of the country. Children are taught from birth to say "yes, ma'am" and "yes, sir." Even when we are hurling an insult, it sounds kind. I mean, bless your heart, don't you know you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.
5. Southern Cooking
If you've never indulged in Southern cuisine, well, I say it again, bless your heart. Biscuits, cornbread, gravy (with sausage), sweet tea, fried chicken, gumbo, fried okra, fried green tomatoes, grits, shrimp and grits, black eyed peas, barbecue, did I mention sweet tea? Sure, it isn't the healthiest fare in the land, but wow, southerners can cook.
6. Faith
I know, I know, the South doesn't corner the market on faith, not even close, but I 've never been anywhere where offering to pray for someone is as natural as breathing, and as expected. While football seems to be a religion, it is clear that true Religion still tempers the culture in a way nothing else can. It isn't a matter of "do you go to church?" The question usually begins "where?" I love that I live in a culture that still expects a healthy fear of the Lord and understands that faith in Christ is paramount to many of its citizens. I see no shame in being labeled the "Bible belt" even when spoken with a sneer. For me, it's this openness of faith that makes the South uniquely polite and charitable in a way no other region in the country is. When disaster strikes, neighbors eagerly grab whatever tool is handy and run to help anyone in need, regardless of faith, race, or creed, while whoever lacks the strength to help physically is rummaging through a box trying to find their grandmother's casserole recipe. When calamity struck the Gulf coast in the form of Hurricane Katrina and tornadoes ripped homes from foundations on April 27th, the South came together in a way that was awe inspiring. Is that only in the South? Of course not, but our willingness to forego self and lift up our neighbor even when our own home may be destroyed is something I know, without a doubt, is a way of life here.
Still sitting, still watching my children frolic, still browsing the tailgate section of Southern Living for recipes for next week's Auburn game, I know why the lure of Spanish moss covered oaks, master storytellers, and great food is too great to escape and why I'll always call the South home.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Moment of Clarity
Running down 30-A, somewhere between Santa Rosa and Grayton Beach, it hits me, I've got a problem. No, I hadn't torn an achilles or pulled a hamstring; the soothing salty air and sound of the pounding surf, along with a fresh dose of running endorphins, had provided a moment of clarity. Lost in thought, I realize I am a people pleaser. Not earth-shattering news for those who know me best. What is groundbreaking about this particular epiphany is the realization that my particular personality quirk is responsbile for the last year of my over-stressed, over-worked, overwhelmed schedule and subsequent sense of angst. People pleasing is costing me my peace of mind.It isn't just an inability to say no to another ministry opportunity, to a student who needs help with preparing for the ACT, to a job opportunity that seems too good to pass up. It is that my idea of being a "good" Christian has long been defined by saying yes to every need that may arise, where I have the opportunity to offer a solution or at the very least a helping hand. For years, I've believed the more I give of my time, my expertise, my self, the more Christ-like I am becoming. Let's say for instance I have a full-load of regular students who need tutoring plus 20 ACT students I'm helping for the big day, a daughter who needs help with her homeschooling lessons, a husband who'd like dinner that didn't come from the freezer, a son who wants Mommy to help put together a space puzzle, a lesson that needs to be planned for the classes I teach at the homeschool co-op, a house that has dust bunnies that could be confused with our Golden Retriever, and one more student calls desperate for ACT help at the last minute (because that happens about once a week). What do I do? I find two hours in my schedule at 9:00 pm and hope that Starbucks is still open until 11:00 p.m. because that's what Jesus would do, right? Isn't giving of self until there's nothing left to give the essence of Christian service? And isn't that what people expect? After all, what would everyone think if I said no?
Although I may not truly "believe" this deep down, it's the way I've lived my life for the past two years, so if I don't believe it, I am certainly living as I do. Perhaps it is the relaxing pace of a beach vacation, perhaps it is because today is the first time I've found a moment for exercise in the past month, or perhaps it is the first time I've quieted my mind long enough to listen, but the Holy Spirit spoke to me on my run, gently but firmly. He reminded me that Jesus did not run aimlessly in circles throughout Jerusalem holding up his hand to volunteer for every need that might arise. Jesus was deliberate in his mission. He also found time to be alone for prayer and restoration. After feeding the five thousand, "[Jesus] made his disciples get into the boat and go ahead of him to the other side of Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd. After He said good-bye to them, He went away to the mountain to pray. When evening came, the boat was in the middle of the sea, and He was alone on land." Mark 6: 45-47. After a long day of ministry, Jesus took time to be alone with God to pray and to rest.
The Holy Spirit also reminded me that God, too, rested after creating the earth, even though as the all-powerful Almighty He didn't need to rest. His act serves as an example for us, an example so powerful that ultimately God declared the Sabbath as a Holy day of rest to be strictly followed by the Jews as part of the Levitical law. It was so important that anyone not observing the Sabbath could be put to death. Granted, we are no longer bound by the law, the Sabbath example serves as a reminder that in God's plan for our life is included a day for renewal. The past two years, there have been times I've worked 40+ days in a row, not a very good example to my children when I ultimately try to explaining to them the importance of the Sabbath.
As I continue my run, I reflect on my mood and my state of mind for the past two years and realize a burned-out Mommy does not make a very good servant no matter how well-intentioned the service may be. It creates a stressed, short-tempered, distracted, sometimes weepy Mommy who reflects more of an aimless wanderer than a woman living and modeling for my children the abundant life.
I also came to what may be the biggest epiphany of my run: that my service to others isn't always simply grounded in selfless service; often, it is motivated by what other people might think of me if I don't say yes. What will everyone think if I am not superwoman? The Holy Spirit also took a moment in my run, yes, it was a long run, to remind me that Jesus didn't particularly care what others thought. The people you'd think He would have wanted to impress the most, the leaders of the church, were the ones He seemed to impress the least. But, that's just it, as One who came to serve, not be served, Jesus served from pure motives, not because He was trying to win favor or look good. He tells us in John 8:29, "The One who sent Me is with Me. He has not left Me alone, because I always do what pleases Him." Jesus was here to please God not man, and I realize that my race has not been the one Paul refers to in 1 Corinthians; mine resembles a hamster on a wheel not really progressing in any direction, pleasing no one, serving few, yet constantly in desperate motion. Jesus later tells his disciples in that same chapter that "You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free."
On a beautiful covered bridge in Santa Rosa, Florida, God spoke the truth, and I came to see that Jesus and I need to do this more often because He had a lot of truth to deliver, some uncomfortable, unflattering, and unsettling, yet profound, loving, and necessary. We also need to do this more often because I am sorely out of shape both physically and spiritually. The truth is I need to stop burning the candle at both ends simply to please man and need to reorder my priorities and eliminate all that isn't part of His plan for my abundant life. This vacation is serving as an opportunity to reflect and reevaluate what that means for my family as I relinquish several work responsibilities and begin a new chapter that includes beginning our homeschooling adventure.
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