I don't mean to beat a dead horse. But the topic of suffering keeps coming up in my life right now. And not because I am suffering, but because I am studying 1 Peter. Phew! It's definitely not the most "feel good" book of the Bible. Yet...the underlying message is actually the greatest news we could ever hear, especially in the midst of suffering. Why? It offers hope. It promises a future where there will be NO suffering, no hurt, no loss. But until then, we will have hard times. It's the plain, unsugar-coated truth.
What's funny is that as I study 1 Peter, I actually feel like I'm in one of the best spots of my life. Well, I mean, in the sense of being happy and content. I'm loving life. I'm loving being a wife and a mom. I'm loving our neighborhood, where I am surrounded by good friends who know me and love me well. I'm loving that I get to stay at home and do things like attend a weekly women's Bible study on Wednesday mornings to refresh my soul. It's a good place to be.
But as I study 1 Peter 4 and learn that we should not "be surprised at the painful trial we are suffering, as though something strange were happening to us," I am reminded that we WILL suffer. That it is a normal part of life. That we should EXPECT it. Because this world is sinful and broken, there will be suffering.
And I admit, that scares me to death. Every time I read that, I think, "Oh, Lord, what are you going to send my way? And will I be able to handle it?"
What I fear more than anything is losing someone close to me, like my husband, my son, or my mom. In a freak accident. Where they are just suddenly gone. With no warning. And beyond that, I'm afraid of how I will handle it if it happens. What if I become a total basketcase? What if I lose my faith, and just completely fall apart, for everyone to see?
That's when I have to remember that "God does not give us more than we can handle." That in the midst of suffering, He will be there. To comfort us. To love us. To remind us that He is good. He will even send people our way who know just how to encourage us, maybe people who've gone through the very thing we're going through.
In my Wednesday morning Bible study today, we discussed suffering and shared some of our own trials. I was shocked as I heard personal stories from the women in the room. Each one had her own share of suffering. Infertility. Losing a grandson in a car accident. Having a brother that was severely burned in a fire. Losing a baby in utero. A family member battling cancer. Everyone had a story.
As I listened, I felt that same, familiar fear creep up within me, challenging me, saying "Could YOU really handle one of those trials?"
But I realize I already have. In my case, I lost my father in a plane crash. I was four years old, my brother was two. I have very few memories of him and even those I confuse with pictures and stories people have told me. I know that loss has a direct impact on the fear I have today of losing those closest to me.
But even through that, God has been faithful. He has even used that loss, that suffering for good. For one, not having an earthly father for many years actually helped me to turn to my "heavenly father" at a young age. I drew near to God because of that fatherly absence in my life. Later, when my mom remarried, we were blessed with a father figure in our lives who is a godly man and wonderful influence on all of us. So yes, God was able to use that suffering for good.
The verse that ministered most to me through the 1 Peter 4 passage was verse 19, which says, "So then, those who suffer according to God's will should commit themselves to their faithful Creator and continue to do good."
There are many truths to glean from that insight, but here are just a few:
1) Suffering is God's will - as hard as that is to swallow, God allows suffering in this world. He is truly in control. He is not an evil ogre who wants to cause pain, yet He ALLOWS suffering in our sinful, broken world not only as a consequence for sin, but also as a way to refine our faith. As a form of discipline. Not because He is a mean, evil God. But like a father, He disciplines us, because He loves us.
2) We are called to "commit ourselves to our faithful Creator" - that verb "commit" is the same verb that Jesus uses when He is dying on the cross and says, "Father, unto thee I commit my spirit." It is a whole-hearted giving of ourselves. Even in the midst of suffering. We have to come to a point to fully surrender, to fully give of ourselves.
3) God is faithful. He is our Creator. He knows how many hairs we have on our head. He knows when the tiniest sparrow falls to the ground and dies. He knows all things. Therefore, we can TRUST him. He is faithful. He will use our suffering for good. He loves us. He will be there for us, no matter what we have to go through.
4) We are to continue to do good, even in the midst of suffering. This is hard to swallow, especially since suffering often causes us to isolate ourselves, to withdraw, to wallow in our grief. But we are to continue to do good. To serve. To step out, to share our story. And by doing so, by being faithful, perhaps God has hidden blessings in store.
While I am not in a hard, suffering spot in my life right now, I know this is a good lesson for me to ponder. Perhaps God is having me study 1 Peter and the topic of suffering right now to prepare me for the future. But I don't want to fear what is to come. Instead, my prayer is, "Lord, help me, when suffering comes my way, to accept it as your will, to commit myself to You as my Faithful Creator, and to continue do good."
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
More Thoughts on Suffering
I gained a new perspective on suffering today as I studied 1 Peter 4.
"Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed." 1 Peter 4:12-14
That last phrase "so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed" was key for me.
A few weeks ago, I wrote about suffering in relation to my son Marshall, fearing something bad might happen to him. As I read what God's word says about how to endure suffering, I kept seeing references to having an eternal perspective, to set our hopes on Christ and the glories that will be revealed, knowing that the testing of our faith produces perserverance, character, hope, and believing that suffering refines our faith, believing that it IS worth it.
Well, easy to say. Harder to do.
But when I read verse 13 this week, I recognized that maybe I had it reversed. That instead of trying to gear up, with my own strength, that ability to "think eternally" in order to not completely become a basketcase when suffering comes my way...that perhaps God is allowing suffering in my life SO THAT I will gain an eternal perspective.
Let me explain. I know that in the past, when I've gone through difficult times, in the midst of my pain, I am reminded that this world is BROKEN. The people are BROKEN. I am BROKEN. That doesn't mean there aren't still wonderful, beautiful things in this world. Not at all. I see the immense blessings of marriage, family, friends, children, and even God's creation. But, within those, there is still BROKENNESS. Think about it. In marriage, you see the refusal of the wife to submit to her husband's leadership. You see jealousy, selfishness, envy, unforgiveness, bitterness, and anger. The same goes for family relationships and friendships. Even with children, you see that defiant little willful self expressed...sometimes as early as 9 months! In parenting, you see the need to control...sometimes for the child's good, but often times, for the parents' own selfish desires. In nature, you see beautiful mountain ranges, vast oceans and lush rain forests, but you also see catastrophic floods, earthquakes, famine, drought and global warming. While there are wonderful, beautiful things in this world, even within those, there is BROKENNESS.
To experience suffering, then, actually helps remind me of that brokenness. It reminds me that this is not what God intends, that God has a perfect, unbroken world waiting for us, where there is no pain, no tears, no disease, no death. Going through the pain of my suffering helps me remember that this wasn't what I was made for, that I'm not where I truly belong, that I'm not living out my life to the fullest potential...but that someday, I will.
Knowing that there is a place where I truly belong and can truly become all that I am meant to be helps me to LONG for that place. By experiencing pain and loss, I am reminded that one day, I will be in a place where there is no pain and loss.
Even then, it's hard to wrap my little human mind around a place like that. C.S. Lewis paints the picture much better than I can. In his book, "The Great Divorce" he describes a group of people taking a bus trip to heaven, just for the day, just to see what it's like. When they get there, one of the first things they see is the grass. The grass is so brilliant, so emerald green, so piercingly beautiful, that they can't look at it. It is painful to stare at because it is so blindingly brilliant. They even try to walk on it, but because each little shoot is so sharp, so perfect and straight and upright, that it cuts their feet. And that's just the grass. They didn't even get to experience God's presence.
C.S. Lewis is not saying God's presence will be painful. Instead, he's saying that because we are broken, because we live in a broken world, we can't even fathom what beauty and perfection look like. We have no idea what awaits us.
So the next time I experience suffering, I won't try to muscle up the ability to gain an eternal perspective on my own. No, I will accept it from God and allow Him to use it in my life as a reminder of what's to come, a reminder that this place is broken, this place is full of pain and loss and grief and death. This place is not my home. But one day, I will go home...to a place where even the grass is so brilliantly green, I can barely look at it.
"Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed." 1 Peter 4:12-14
That last phrase "so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed" was key for me.
A few weeks ago, I wrote about suffering in relation to my son Marshall, fearing something bad might happen to him. As I read what God's word says about how to endure suffering, I kept seeing references to having an eternal perspective, to set our hopes on Christ and the glories that will be revealed, knowing that the testing of our faith produces perserverance, character, hope, and believing that suffering refines our faith, believing that it IS worth it.
Well, easy to say. Harder to do.
But when I read verse 13 this week, I recognized that maybe I had it reversed. That instead of trying to gear up, with my own strength, that ability to "think eternally" in order to not completely become a basketcase when suffering comes my way...that perhaps God is allowing suffering in my life SO THAT I will gain an eternal perspective.
Let me explain. I know that in the past, when I've gone through difficult times, in the midst of my pain, I am reminded that this world is BROKEN. The people are BROKEN. I am BROKEN. That doesn't mean there aren't still wonderful, beautiful things in this world. Not at all. I see the immense blessings of marriage, family, friends, children, and even God's creation. But, within those, there is still BROKENNESS. Think about it. In marriage, you see the refusal of the wife to submit to her husband's leadership. You see jealousy, selfishness, envy, unforgiveness, bitterness, and anger. The same goes for family relationships and friendships. Even with children, you see that defiant little willful self expressed...sometimes as early as 9 months! In parenting, you see the need to control...sometimes for the child's good, but often times, for the parents' own selfish desires. In nature, you see beautiful mountain ranges, vast oceans and lush rain forests, but you also see catastrophic floods, earthquakes, famine, drought and global warming. While there are wonderful, beautiful things in this world, even within those, there is BROKENNESS.
To experience suffering, then, actually helps remind me of that brokenness. It reminds me that this is not what God intends, that God has a perfect, unbroken world waiting for us, where there is no pain, no tears, no disease, no death. Going through the pain of my suffering helps me remember that this wasn't what I was made for, that I'm not where I truly belong, that I'm not living out my life to the fullest potential...but that someday, I will.
Knowing that there is a place where I truly belong and can truly become all that I am meant to be helps me to LONG for that place. By experiencing pain and loss, I am reminded that one day, I will be in a place where there is no pain and loss.
Even then, it's hard to wrap my little human mind around a place like that. C.S. Lewis paints the picture much better than I can. In his book, "The Great Divorce" he describes a group of people taking a bus trip to heaven, just for the day, just to see what it's like. When they get there, one of the first things they see is the grass. The grass is so brilliant, so emerald green, so piercingly beautiful, that they can't look at it. It is painful to stare at because it is so blindingly brilliant. They even try to walk on it, but because each little shoot is so sharp, so perfect and straight and upright, that it cuts their feet. And that's just the grass. They didn't even get to experience God's presence.
C.S. Lewis is not saying God's presence will be painful. Instead, he's saying that because we are broken, because we live in a broken world, we can't even fathom what beauty and perfection look like. We have no idea what awaits us.
So the next time I experience suffering, I won't try to muscle up the ability to gain an eternal perspective on my own. No, I will accept it from God and allow Him to use it in my life as a reminder of what's to come, a reminder that this place is broken, this place is full of pain and loss and grief and death. This place is not my home. But one day, I will go home...to a place where even the grass is so brilliantly green, I can barely look at it.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Words that Build Up, not Tear Down
I was reflecting on Ephesians 4:29 this morning, which says, "Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen."
Yikes, that verse always challenges me. What's the area that's sometimes the hardest to control? Our mouth! I can think of so many things that come out of my mouth that don't please God. Gossip, cursing, slander, lies, flattery, boasting, mocking, etc. The list is long.
If I am truly a follower of Jesus and He is Lord of my life, that should mean He is Lord of my mouth! But how often is that not the case?
I was especially convicted of this truth as I've come to realize a few ways my mouth can be hurtful to others.
1) Teasing - There are a few girlfriends in my neighborhood who I've known for many years. We are very close and have a long history together. Therefore, we know each other quite well...which means, we know each other's weaknesses, quirks, habits, tendencies, etc. That can make teasing a very easy thing to do, especially to get a laugh from others in our group of friends, who know each other quite well. But I have come to realize that as fun as it is to tease and pick on one of my good friend's personality quirks...how does it build her up? How does it encourage her, edify her, help her be more like Jesus? It doesn't. So I'm realizing...while it may be fun to get a reaction and make a little "innocent jab" to say "I know you too well"...if it's not helping my sweet friend be encouraged and built up in the body, it's not worth opening my mouth. Help me, Lord, to speak only words that edify!
2) Flattery - this is an area God has recently convicted me of. It may be something seemingly innocent, like telling someone you like their haircut or their cooking when you really don't. A little white lie. But other times, it might be something deeper, like when they share an issue with you and they want your advice, but you know they don't want to hear the Jesus-centered answer, so instead, you give them worldly advice. "Do what's best for you" or "I'm glad you got to express your opinion so directly" or "If it makes you happy, then go for it." That's what the world says. But if I truly love my friends, I want to give them advice from the only source that I believe is truly powerful and that truly heals: God's word. And it's not always a "feel good" answer. But I don't want to be one of those friends that tells you what you want to hear. I want to be someone my friends can go to and know they are getting a biblical, gospel-centered, grace-filled answer, an answer that truly heals and gives hope. And in return, I want them to do the same for me!
3) Cursing - this is just a plain bad habit of mine. yikes! Whether it's waiting in traffic, stubbing my toe, or realizing Marshall is pooping on me in the middle of a diaper change...it's hard not to utter a few curse words every now and then. In the moment, nothing feels better to express frustration. But God's word calls us to speak words that edify, not tear down, and reminds us that our mouth is a "holy temple" that should reflect God's glory and that it should be used to speak beautiful, gracious, lovely things, not curse words. Lord, give me the self-control not to utter profanity every time I get frustrated!'
My prayer today is that we will speak words that encourage, heal, love, give hope, speak truth and build up...not tear down.
Yikes, that verse always challenges me. What's the area that's sometimes the hardest to control? Our mouth! I can think of so many things that come out of my mouth that don't please God. Gossip, cursing, slander, lies, flattery, boasting, mocking, etc. The list is long.
If I am truly a follower of Jesus and He is Lord of my life, that should mean He is Lord of my mouth! But how often is that not the case?
I was especially convicted of this truth as I've come to realize a few ways my mouth can be hurtful to others.
1) Teasing - There are a few girlfriends in my neighborhood who I've known for many years. We are very close and have a long history together. Therefore, we know each other quite well...which means, we know each other's weaknesses, quirks, habits, tendencies, etc. That can make teasing a very easy thing to do, especially to get a laugh from others in our group of friends, who know each other quite well. But I have come to realize that as fun as it is to tease and pick on one of my good friend's personality quirks...how does it build her up? How does it encourage her, edify her, help her be more like Jesus? It doesn't. So I'm realizing...while it may be fun to get a reaction and make a little "innocent jab" to say "I know you too well"...if it's not helping my sweet friend be encouraged and built up in the body, it's not worth opening my mouth. Help me, Lord, to speak only words that edify!
2) Flattery - this is an area God has recently convicted me of. It may be something seemingly innocent, like telling someone you like their haircut or their cooking when you really don't. A little white lie. But other times, it might be something deeper, like when they share an issue with you and they want your advice, but you know they don't want to hear the Jesus-centered answer, so instead, you give them worldly advice. "Do what's best for you" or "I'm glad you got to express your opinion so directly" or "If it makes you happy, then go for it." That's what the world says. But if I truly love my friends, I want to give them advice from the only source that I believe is truly powerful and that truly heals: God's word. And it's not always a "feel good" answer. But I don't want to be one of those friends that tells you what you want to hear. I want to be someone my friends can go to and know they are getting a biblical, gospel-centered, grace-filled answer, an answer that truly heals and gives hope. And in return, I want them to do the same for me!
3) Cursing - this is just a plain bad habit of mine. yikes! Whether it's waiting in traffic, stubbing my toe, or realizing Marshall is pooping on me in the middle of a diaper change...it's hard not to utter a few curse words every now and then. In the moment, nothing feels better to express frustration. But God's word calls us to speak words that edify, not tear down, and reminds us that our mouth is a "holy temple" that should reflect God's glory and that it should be used to speak beautiful, gracious, lovely things, not curse words. Lord, give me the self-control not to utter profanity every time I get frustrated!'
My prayer today is that we will speak words that encourage, heal, love, give hope, speak truth and build up...not tear down.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Blog Envy
So I'm just going to be totally honest. (Isn't that what a blog is - raw, honest thoughts like reading a page from someone's diary?)
I have blog envy. It's a new struggle for me. Only about a month old. Ever since I started blogging. My husband likes to tease me about my late arrival to this world by saying, "welcome to the 90s honey." But yes, now that I'm here, I've been introduced to a whole new world. I had NO idea how many talented, beautiful writers there were out there, especially in the mommy blogging realm, since that's mainly what I read these days...who are so incredibly gifted with their words, photography, layout and design. Most of them are stay at home moms (you go, girl!) who may have hundreds, even thousands of followers. I am in awe...and with that, a little envious. Maybe a lot.
When I'm at playgroup or at the park with a bunch of moms, there's often a plug for someone's blog. You know how it goes, "Oh my gosh, have you read such and such blog? You've got to check it out! Her pictures, her stories, her writing, etc., etc., is awesome." Then I go check it out for myself, agree that it is just as they said and start thinking thoughts like, "wow, I wish I could write like that" or "if only I could take such artistic pictures of my children" or "if only I knew how to add gadgets like that at that place on the page" and especially, "how does she have 4,000 followers?"
Once I'm finished admiring, ogling, and drooling over their blog, I return to my own, which suddenly looks plain jane, elementary, and inadequate...like going from a Picasso masterpiece to a kindergartner's fingerpainting.
Why is it an issue for me? Well, perhaps I've always wanted to be identified as a writer. I want people to approve of me, to think I'm smart, to think I have a witty, honest style that is endearing and fun to read. My dream has always been to write a novel that makes it on the NY Times Bestseller list.
Writing is part of my identity. And that's where the issue lies.
As always, God is using this opportunity to teach me. Just today, as I felt these ugly, envious feelings, He reminded me that whether it's a blog, the size of my house, whether I have wood floors or stainless steel appliances, the way I decorate, how stylishly I dress, how well and how often I host playgroup, the way I parent, the way my children behave, the way I entertain, the amount of activities I am involved in, the number of friends I keep in touch with, how I cook, etc....whatever that THING is, there is always going to be someone who does it better. And therefore, there is always room for envy.
It's been that way since the beginning of time. Satan wanting God's job. Eve wanting "knowledge" from the Tree of Life. Cain wanting to be better than Abel. David wanting Bathsheeba. Saul wanting David's popularity. Pharaoh wanting the worship of all people, including the Israelites.
So what's the lesson? It goes back to the issue of identity. The verse that spoke to me last week comes to mind, "In your hearts set apart Christ as Lord." If I truly am setting apart Christ as Lord of my heart, as the ultimate love, ruler and authority of my life, than my identity is in Him....and in who I am in relation to Him.
So who am I? I am a daughter of Christ. I am loved, I am cherished, I am forgiven, I am free to live and love like Jesus. I have no guilt, I have no shame because it has all been paid for on the cross. I am accepted. I am full of joy. I have no fear, because I know this is not my home. My home awaits me in heaven, where I will one day rejoice in the glorious presence of my Savior, in a place where I will feel pure joy, no pain, no suffering, no tears...no envy.
So whether I have one follower or thousands, it doesn't matter. Why? Because my identity is not set on how many blog followers I have. It's set on the fact that I am a loved and precious daughter of Christ, who approves of me, who is proud of me, who loves me. Nothing can separate me from His love.
Knowing that, clinging to that truth, is the only way I can move past my blog envy. Or any kind of envy. So I may not have an amazing blog. I may not have thousands of followers. I may sound preachy or rambly or boring. But who am I writing for? For my Lord. Writing is something that gives me pleasure and I do it out of joy and I want to do it in a way that pleases my Lord, not anyone else. Because His approval is the only one I need!
So the next time I go blog browsing, the next time I come across blogs that are more beautiful, better written, more artistic, etc...I will remind myself: my writing does not define me. Jesus defines me. He approves of me. He loves me. He is proud of me. And that's all that matters!
I have blog envy. It's a new struggle for me. Only about a month old. Ever since I started blogging. My husband likes to tease me about my late arrival to this world by saying, "welcome to the 90s honey." But yes, now that I'm here, I've been introduced to a whole new world. I had NO idea how many talented, beautiful writers there were out there, especially in the mommy blogging realm, since that's mainly what I read these days...who are so incredibly gifted with their words, photography, layout and design. Most of them are stay at home moms (you go, girl!) who may have hundreds, even thousands of followers. I am in awe...and with that, a little envious. Maybe a lot.
When I'm at playgroup or at the park with a bunch of moms, there's often a plug for someone's blog. You know how it goes, "Oh my gosh, have you read such and such blog? You've got to check it out! Her pictures, her stories, her writing, etc., etc., is awesome." Then I go check it out for myself, agree that it is just as they said and start thinking thoughts like, "wow, I wish I could write like that" or "if only I could take such artistic pictures of my children" or "if only I knew how to add gadgets like that at that place on the page" and especially, "how does she have 4,000 followers?"
Once I'm finished admiring, ogling, and drooling over their blog, I return to my own, which suddenly looks plain jane, elementary, and inadequate...like going from a Picasso masterpiece to a kindergartner's fingerpainting.
Why is it an issue for me? Well, perhaps I've always wanted to be identified as a writer. I want people to approve of me, to think I'm smart, to think I have a witty, honest style that is endearing and fun to read. My dream has always been to write a novel that makes it on the NY Times Bestseller list.
Writing is part of my identity. And that's where the issue lies.
As always, God is using this opportunity to teach me. Just today, as I felt these ugly, envious feelings, He reminded me that whether it's a blog, the size of my house, whether I have wood floors or stainless steel appliances, the way I decorate, how stylishly I dress, how well and how often I host playgroup, the way I parent, the way my children behave, the way I entertain, the amount of activities I am involved in, the number of friends I keep in touch with, how I cook, etc....whatever that THING is, there is always going to be someone who does it better. And therefore, there is always room for envy.
It's been that way since the beginning of time. Satan wanting God's job. Eve wanting "knowledge" from the Tree of Life. Cain wanting to be better than Abel. David wanting Bathsheeba. Saul wanting David's popularity. Pharaoh wanting the worship of all people, including the Israelites.
So what's the lesson? It goes back to the issue of identity. The verse that spoke to me last week comes to mind, "In your hearts set apart Christ as Lord." If I truly am setting apart Christ as Lord of my heart, as the ultimate love, ruler and authority of my life, than my identity is in Him....and in who I am in relation to Him.
So who am I? I am a daughter of Christ. I am loved, I am cherished, I am forgiven, I am free to live and love like Jesus. I have no guilt, I have no shame because it has all been paid for on the cross. I am accepted. I am full of joy. I have no fear, because I know this is not my home. My home awaits me in heaven, where I will one day rejoice in the glorious presence of my Savior, in a place where I will feel pure joy, no pain, no suffering, no tears...no envy.
So whether I have one follower or thousands, it doesn't matter. Why? Because my identity is not set on how many blog followers I have. It's set on the fact that I am a loved and precious daughter of Christ, who approves of me, who is proud of me, who loves me. Nothing can separate me from His love.
Knowing that, clinging to that truth, is the only way I can move past my blog envy. Or any kind of envy. So I may not have an amazing blog. I may not have thousands of followers. I may sound preachy or rambly or boring. But who am I writing for? For my Lord. Writing is something that gives me pleasure and I do it out of joy and I want to do it in a way that pleases my Lord, not anyone else. Because His approval is the only one I need!
So the next time I go blog browsing, the next time I come across blogs that are more beautiful, better written, more artistic, etc...I will remind myself: my writing does not define me. Jesus defines me. He approves of me. He loves me. He is proud of me. And that's all that matters!
Monday, October 11, 2010
Who is Lord of My Heart?
I was back in 1 Peter this morning and gleaned rich, new insight from God's word. I love how His word is truly living and active!
The verse that spoke to me was 1 Peter 3:15, "In your hearts, set apart Christ as Lord."
What does it mean to set apart Christ as Lord in our hearts?
Well, first let's explore the meaning of the term "Lord." In this context, it's referring to Christ as the ultimate ruler, king, and authority. So to set apart Christ as Lord in our hearts, means to allow him to be the ultimate authority of all that we desire, dream about, and hope for.
So what are areas in my heart, I began to ponder, where I'm not allowing Christ to be Lord?
Two immediate answers came to mind: money and time.
First, money. Do I really allow Jesus to be Lord over how I spend my money? Do I consult him before I purchase things? The majority of the time, I don't. And perhaps for a tall half-caf Americano at Starbucks, it's not something I need to pray about. But if it's becoming more important than Jesus, perhaps it is. The easiest litmus test for figuring out when something is becoming lord of my heart instead of Jesus is to look at my motives.
Let me give a specific example. My husband and I are hosting a Halloween costume party for the neighborhood kids and families. The purpose is to have a fun evening and get to know our neighbors better. For the past three weeks, every free moment I've had (usually when Marshall is in Mother's Day Out), I've made trips to Target, Hobby Lobby, or HEB to buy fall decorations for our house. At first, it was just a few fun things to freshen up. But now, I know I've gone overboard on spending money.
Jim finally sat me down one night and gently asked, "Honey, why are you buying all of this? Is it because you truly enjoy decorating and want to make the home beautiful? Or is it to impress our neighbors, to make the house look good so you will gain their approval?"
Ouch. He hit the nail on the head. He called out my motive. I knew that I was not just decorating to freshen up. If there was no Halloween party, I would not be buying all that stuff. I could care less. So there it was, plain and clear. I was not allowing Jesus to be Lord over my heart. If I was, I could pray about it and ask, "Lord, will You help me make the house look beautiful without spending a lot of money?" And I know He will answer because He is faithful to hear us.
The second area of my heart where I rarely set apart Christ as Lord is my time. My time is precious. I want to decide how I'm going to spend it, who I'm going to spend it with, when I need "down time", when I want "social time" and when I want "hubby time." This has been an area of my heart where God has been working over the years. I went from full-time work, to a full-time grad student, to full-time ministry and now, to a full-time mom. And I'm realizing that time, especially since being a mom, is no longer my own. I treasure the few precious hours I have alone when Marshall naps. But even then, I want to start praying, "Lord, how do YOU want me to spend this time?" Should it be to relax and watch a fun show? Should I spend it writing a blog post? Should I call a friend I haven't talked to in awhile? Should I pray and spend time in Your word? Basically, the key is to ASK, not demand my rights. Even on the weekends, when Jim and I just want to veg out and watch TV, I want us to pray, "Lord, how would You like us to spend our weekend?" Should we invite a couple over for dinner we haven't seen in awhile? Should we find a way to serve one of our elderly neighbors? Or is this a time to just be still and quiet and alone with one another to refresh us and our marriage? Once again, the key is to ask with a open heart, not a demanding one.
I will continue to pray this for myself and for my readers....that God would show us areas in our hearts where we aren't setting apart Christ as Lord. We all have them. Some are more obvious than others. But I am realizing that when God helps us identify them and helps us release those areas to Him, we are actually freed up to love better and live better because Jesus reigns in us and there is nothing more joyful, wonderful and satisfying.
The verse that spoke to me was 1 Peter 3:15, "In your hearts, set apart Christ as Lord."
What does it mean to set apart Christ as Lord in our hearts?
Well, first let's explore the meaning of the term "Lord." In this context, it's referring to Christ as the ultimate ruler, king, and authority. So to set apart Christ as Lord in our hearts, means to allow him to be the ultimate authority of all that we desire, dream about, and hope for.
So what are areas in my heart, I began to ponder, where I'm not allowing Christ to be Lord?
Two immediate answers came to mind: money and time.
First, money. Do I really allow Jesus to be Lord over how I spend my money? Do I consult him before I purchase things? The majority of the time, I don't. And perhaps for a tall half-caf Americano at Starbucks, it's not something I need to pray about. But if it's becoming more important than Jesus, perhaps it is. The easiest litmus test for figuring out when something is becoming lord of my heart instead of Jesus is to look at my motives.
Let me give a specific example. My husband and I are hosting a Halloween costume party for the neighborhood kids and families. The purpose is to have a fun evening and get to know our neighbors better. For the past three weeks, every free moment I've had (usually when Marshall is in Mother's Day Out), I've made trips to Target, Hobby Lobby, or HEB to buy fall decorations for our house. At first, it was just a few fun things to freshen up. But now, I know I've gone overboard on spending money.
Jim finally sat me down one night and gently asked, "Honey, why are you buying all of this? Is it because you truly enjoy decorating and want to make the home beautiful? Or is it to impress our neighbors, to make the house look good so you will gain their approval?"
Ouch. He hit the nail on the head. He called out my motive. I knew that I was not just decorating to freshen up. If there was no Halloween party, I would not be buying all that stuff. I could care less. So there it was, plain and clear. I was not allowing Jesus to be Lord over my heart. If I was, I could pray about it and ask, "Lord, will You help me make the house look beautiful without spending a lot of money?" And I know He will answer because He is faithful to hear us.
The second area of my heart where I rarely set apart Christ as Lord is my time. My time is precious. I want to decide how I'm going to spend it, who I'm going to spend it with, when I need "down time", when I want "social time" and when I want "hubby time." This has been an area of my heart where God has been working over the years. I went from full-time work, to a full-time grad student, to full-time ministry and now, to a full-time mom. And I'm realizing that time, especially since being a mom, is no longer my own. I treasure the few precious hours I have alone when Marshall naps. But even then, I want to start praying, "Lord, how do YOU want me to spend this time?" Should it be to relax and watch a fun show? Should I spend it writing a blog post? Should I call a friend I haven't talked to in awhile? Should I pray and spend time in Your word? Basically, the key is to ASK, not demand my rights. Even on the weekends, when Jim and I just want to veg out and watch TV, I want us to pray, "Lord, how would You like us to spend our weekend?" Should we invite a couple over for dinner we haven't seen in awhile? Should we find a way to serve one of our elderly neighbors? Or is this a time to just be still and quiet and alone with one another to refresh us and our marriage? Once again, the key is to ask with a open heart, not a demanding one.
I will continue to pray this for myself and for my readers....that God would show us areas in our hearts where we aren't setting apart Christ as Lord. We all have them. Some are more obvious than others. But I am realizing that when God helps us identify them and helps us release those areas to Him, we are actually freed up to love better and live better because Jesus reigns in us and there is nothing more joyful, wonderful and satisfying.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Submission
Submission. It's a word many of us dread, if not downright despise. But it's scattered throughout the pages of God's word, and therefore, not meant for us to ignore.
This morning, as I sat at the patio table on our back deck where gnarled oak trees arched gracefully above me, after finishing up a plate of eggs, toast and a steaming mug of coffee, I opened my Bible to 1 Peter 3.
"Wives, in the same way be submissive to your husbands so that, if any of them do not believe the word, they may be won over without words by the behavior of their wives, when they see the purity and reverence of your lives. Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight. For this is the way the holy women of the past who put their hope in God used to make themselves beautiful. They were submissive to their own husbands, like Sarah, who obeyed Abraham and called him her master. You are her daughters if you do what is right and do not give way to fear."
Okay God, I prayed, what do you want to teach me today about submission? I pondered what it would be like to be married to a man who did not know Jesus. How hard it must be, to have such a passion for following Jesus, but not be able to share that with her own husband. Not being able to pray together, to worship together, to read and study God's word together. But instead of encouraging divorce, God calls women to "win them over without words" and by the example of "purity and reverence" in their lives. What a tough battle that would be!
But then I thought about my own marriage and realized how rarely do I try to "win him over without words." My husband is a follower of Christ, which I am oh so grateful for, but that doesn't mean he is perfect (nor am I, for that matter!).
There are times when I REALLY want something, whether it is something insignificant, like an iPod touch or more meaningful, like inviting a couple over for dinner who is struggling in their marriage. Whatever it is, my tendency is to keep repeating my desire for that "thing" until he caves in and lets me get my way.
With the iPod touch example, I kept nagging him about it, talking about how great it was, explaining the reasons I needed it, joking about how I couldn't live without it...when little did I know, he had planned on getting one for me for my "push prize" (after delivering our son, Marshall). When he gave it to me early (thanks to my incessant nagging!), I realized that I had put a damper on the actual enjoyment and excitement of receiving the gift, since it felt more like a concession on his part, rather than an actual desire to give because he wanted to give. The same goes for inviting our couple friends for dinner. I kept nagging him about it, in the midst of a couple of weeks when he was legimitately swamped at work and a bit stressed by his lack of down time. When he finally did concede, it wasn't as enjoyable for either of us, since it felt forced, preventing either of us from being fully present with the couple.
So what does a gentle and quiet spirit look like? In my case, and I think many of us can relate, it means silencing our mouths. Stop the nagging. And that's hard to do, especially when we really want something or we want them to do something that we've asked them to do a thousand times. What if, instead of nagging and begging and dropping little hints throughout the day, we just shut our mouths and prayed? It's a powerless feeling, to give it to the Lord and realize we're not in control of the outcome. But isn't that where God wants us to be? Powerless, allowing Him to work?
And you might say, well, isn't that a manipulative way to use prayer, just asking God to give you what you want? But it's funny how little credit we give God. He knows our hearts. He knows our desires. He knows that prayer changes US, often more than it changes the other person.
So my challenge to all of us wives for today is to close our mouths and pray. Stop nagging, stop hinting, stop asking and pray. Even for the little things, like iPod touches. Perhaps God won't give us what we want. Perhaps it will come much later. Perhaps He will answer in a way that is so much better than the outcome we expected that we are humbled by His answer. But whatever the outcome, we are called to "win them over without words" and love them with a "gentle and quiet spirit."
This morning, as I sat at the patio table on our back deck where gnarled oak trees arched gracefully above me, after finishing up a plate of eggs, toast and a steaming mug of coffee, I opened my Bible to 1 Peter 3.
"Wives, in the same way be submissive to your husbands so that, if any of them do not believe the word, they may be won over without words by the behavior of their wives, when they see the purity and reverence of your lives. Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight. For this is the way the holy women of the past who put their hope in God used to make themselves beautiful. They were submissive to their own husbands, like Sarah, who obeyed Abraham and called him her master. You are her daughters if you do what is right and do not give way to fear."
Okay God, I prayed, what do you want to teach me today about submission? I pondered what it would be like to be married to a man who did not know Jesus. How hard it must be, to have such a passion for following Jesus, but not be able to share that with her own husband. Not being able to pray together, to worship together, to read and study God's word together. But instead of encouraging divorce, God calls women to "win them over without words" and by the example of "purity and reverence" in their lives. What a tough battle that would be!
But then I thought about my own marriage and realized how rarely do I try to "win him over without words." My husband is a follower of Christ, which I am oh so grateful for, but that doesn't mean he is perfect (nor am I, for that matter!).
There are times when I REALLY want something, whether it is something insignificant, like an iPod touch or more meaningful, like inviting a couple over for dinner who is struggling in their marriage. Whatever it is, my tendency is to keep repeating my desire for that "thing" until he caves in and lets me get my way.
With the iPod touch example, I kept nagging him about it, talking about how great it was, explaining the reasons I needed it, joking about how I couldn't live without it...when little did I know, he had planned on getting one for me for my "push prize" (after delivering our son, Marshall). When he gave it to me early (thanks to my incessant nagging!), I realized that I had put a damper on the actual enjoyment and excitement of receiving the gift, since it felt more like a concession on his part, rather than an actual desire to give because he wanted to give. The same goes for inviting our couple friends for dinner. I kept nagging him about it, in the midst of a couple of weeks when he was legimitately swamped at work and a bit stressed by his lack of down time. When he finally did concede, it wasn't as enjoyable for either of us, since it felt forced, preventing either of us from being fully present with the couple.
So what does a gentle and quiet spirit look like? In my case, and I think many of us can relate, it means silencing our mouths. Stop the nagging. And that's hard to do, especially when we really want something or we want them to do something that we've asked them to do a thousand times. What if, instead of nagging and begging and dropping little hints throughout the day, we just shut our mouths and prayed? It's a powerless feeling, to give it to the Lord and realize we're not in control of the outcome. But isn't that where God wants us to be? Powerless, allowing Him to work?
And you might say, well, isn't that a manipulative way to use prayer, just asking God to give you what you want? But it's funny how little credit we give God. He knows our hearts. He knows our desires. He knows that prayer changes US, often more than it changes the other person.
So my challenge to all of us wives for today is to close our mouths and pray. Stop nagging, stop hinting, stop asking and pray. Even for the little things, like iPod touches. Perhaps God won't give us what we want. Perhaps it will come much later. Perhaps He will answer in a way that is so much better than the outcome we expected that we are humbled by His answer. But whatever the outcome, we are called to "win them over without words" and love them with a "gentle and quiet spirit."
Friday, October 8, 2010
Date Night
My hubby is great about scheduling date nights for the two of us, even since Marshall was born. At first, it was hard for me to be away from Marshall, feeling guilty and worried whether he would take a bottle and go to sleep with a babysitter. But after doing it a few times, I began to feel more comfortable and now I CRAVE those evenings, enjoying a nice, quiet dinner together, being able to talk without interruptions, not having to be "on" and think about who's going to get Marshall when he cries, just being able to listen, laugh, and enjoy each other over a glass of wine. I highly recommend date nights, especially for new parents! We had to make a pact, however, that we could not talk about Marshall the entire time, but focus on our relatonship or other topics, just to allow us that mental and physical break away from our precious son.
Last Saturday, Jim got creative with date night. It was a surprise. He knows I love surprises and he enjoys planning fun things for us to do, so that makes it enjoyable for both of us. Throughout the week, he left me clues. I'd find signs hidden throughout the house saying things like "Friday night will have you going in circles" or "It'll be dark, but you'll still have light." On Friday, he revealed the attire: sporty.
Okay, I thought, we're going up to Mt. Bonnell or some other romantic spot to watch the sunset and have a picnic dinner. But the clue about going in circles made me think we could also be going ice skating. Who knew.
That evening, Jim comes home from work, our babysitter arrives, I give her brief instructions about Marshall, then we head off in our "sporty attire." Later, I was wishing I'd dressed to go to the gym instead of a hike (since that was my guess). Oh goodness.
We get in the car and drive a few streets over to our friends' house, the Luckes. My heart sinks. No offense to the Luckes, but I was hoping it would just be the two of us.
So I said, "Oh, are we going to hang out with the Luckes in their backyard by the firepit?"
The disappointment in my voice must've been obvious because he replied, "No sweetie. This is date night, remember?" He just smiled and pulled open their garage door. I followed his gaze toward the back of the garage, where two road bikes were mounted on the wall.
Ohhhh. A bike ride. Going in circles. Dark, but there will be light. Got it.
He looked at me to gage my excitement. My face was probably skeptical. He quickly pulled out a map to show me the route. The plan was to ride south to UT campus, eat at a fun restaurant around campus, explore UT, ride back up north to the Triangle to get frozen yogurt, then ride home. Ummm...basically, that was a pretty long ride. Maybe not for a Saturday morning workout, but for date night, yeah.
Now, I knew how much planning and thought he'd put into this, knowing that 1) Thanks to my spinning classes and triathlon days, I love cycling and 2) As a UT grad, I love going back to campus to explore all my old haunts. He'd even snuck my spin shoes in a bag, brought helmets, bought lights for the bikes, and brought a bike lock so we could secure them outside while we ate dinner. Very well-planned.
There were just a few minor problems: 1) I hadn't been on a bike since I was pregnant with Marshall (which means a year and a half of not riding!!!), 2) I was wearing hiking shorts, not cycling shorts, which meant MAJOR FRONT WEDGIE and 3) we were borrowing bikes from our TALLEST friends, which meant the seats were too high, the pedals too low and the handlebars too far out and 4) Did I mention that's a long freaking ride?
But hey - I'm "adventure girl" so I smiled and did a mental re-set of expectations: this would not be a relaxing hike up Mt. Bonnell to watch the sunset, followed by a pinic dinner and a cool glass of Chardonnay. No, this would be a challenging, sweaty workout, wearing the wrong shorts and riding the wrong sized bike. But hey, I was gonna roll with it and have a blast! If only that mental re-set had worked!
So off we go, pedaling away, sucking in the cool, crisp October evening air, down Shoal Creek. And I must say, for the first 10 minutes, it was lovely. Quiet, peaceful, such an exhilarating freedom to sail down the pavement, hearing nothing but the whir of the wheels and the pedals.
But then Shoal Creek came to an end and we reached 35th street. Let's just say, 35th isn't exactly biker friendly. There is no bike lane. Not to mention, as soon as we turned onto 35th, it was all uphill. So here we were, two obnoxious bikers, with our red blinking tail lights, slowly chugging up 35th on a Friday night, as cars swerved around us. I could just imagine them, cursing us inside their cars, you @#*(# bikers! We're already late for our dinner reservation/play/movie/fill in the blank. Oh goodness. During that 10 minute span of time, I had never pedaled so hard and fast. I just wanted to get off the freaking street. And I kept praying, "Lord, have mercy on us. Please don't let us get hit by a car. We have a baby!"
When we finally turned on Guadalupe, we decided to hop up on the sidewalk (disobeying bike rules), because it felt much safer. As we slowly rode down the sidewalk, past a multitude of students who were glaring angrily at us, probably because we were hogging the sidewalk, we reached an alleyway. Jim crossed it and I was about to do the same, when a car came out of the alley and roared past me. I came to a halting stop and had to quickly clip out of my pedals. I started wobbling, so to counterbalance myself, I had no choice but to actually put my hand on the car (which had come to a stop, waiting to pull out onto Guadalupe) and lean against it. The lady threw her hands up in the air, like, "what the hell?" and roared off. Luckily, just as the car moved, I was able to readjust myself and clip into my pedals. Jim was further down the sidewalk and didn't even see it, but another biker saw the whole thing. He just happened to be one of those shaven, cut, Lance Armstrong-looking types who totally knew what he was doing. He gave me this condescending look, like "and...why are you on a bike?" In prideful defense, I quickly cycled past him and mumbled, "I'm never borrowing my friend's bike again. It's way too tall for me." Oh, I'm sure that made me look a lot better.
We chose Madam Mam's for dinner. We've been there a thousand times. There's nothing special about it. But it was right in front of us, we were tired, hungry and cranky. We scarfed down our dinner and barely spoke to one another, not so much out of frustration at this point, just complete fatigue. That's when the soreness set in. After 20 minutes of rest and rejuvenation by food, we decided to skip the UT campus tour and head to the Triangle.
I thought my husband was brilliant when he said, "I think we should go a different way going back." Hallelujah!
We went down Speedway, which was a nice jaunt through campus and frat parties, and much less trafficked. It would've actually been an enjoyable ride and if it wasn't for the burning sensation that had begun to emanate from my crotch. I knew this was most likely due to a combination of the hiking shorts and a bike seat that was too tall. I don't even know if a burning sensation is the right word. It was more like a constant ramming into my pubic bone. Every time my foot went down to the bottom of the pedal stroke, my crotch rammed into the pointed part of the seat. And at this point, it was sheer pain. So from Speedway on, I had to stand up in my pedals. No more sitting in the saddle. Nope. All the way home, I stood in my pedals. Luckily, we took a less hilly route going back. But what it meant was that I had to: pedal, pedal, pedal, coast. Then once again, pedal, pedal, pedal, coast...all while standing. It was like taking an advanced spin class. I was pouring sweat and starting to feel angry and resentful as I watched my hubby way ahead of me, just relaxed, comfortably seated on his bike, pedaling in the lowest gear and enjoying the lovely evening. Errrgh.
We still made it to the Triangle for yogurt. I don't remember much. That's when the complaining began. All I could think about was my burning crotch. Jim mentioned that his shoulders were hurting from his bike being too tall for him. But I kept thinking, you have no idea what kind of pain I'm talking about. And let me just say, I'm considering natural child birth for my second baby, just because I loved the labor process so much. I can honestly say this was a pain that was comparable to labor (possibly worse, just because I wasn't mentally prepared for it!).
After yogurt, we were headed back on the home stretch of Shoal Creek. At this point, I'm fighting back tears and cursing date night under my breath. I kept thinking, if only we had done a romantic hike up to Mt. Bonnell. What was HE thinking? That was in my worst moment, of course. He even tried to ride up next to me and encourage me, saying, "Honey, we're almost home. I'm so sorry, I know you're hurting." Silence. I didn't want his sympathy. I didn't want to talk to him. I wanted to punish him for planning such a painful adventure.
Well, we finally made it home. I erupted into tears (after the babysitter left, of course) and we had a bit of a tiff as he didn't feel appreciated and I was pissed at him for feeling so much pain. But somehow, as he always does, by the end of the night, he was able to get me to laugh about it. He even knew how to tease me, saying, "Well, I'm sorry, I just thought you were tougher and more adventurous than that." He knew that would get me, since I like to claim I'm those very things!
He still jokes that he can't wait to take me on another bike ride. We are able to laugh it off as a funny memory. And my burning crotch was better after a couple of days. It was definitely a date night to remember!
Last Saturday, Jim got creative with date night. It was a surprise. He knows I love surprises and he enjoys planning fun things for us to do, so that makes it enjoyable for both of us. Throughout the week, he left me clues. I'd find signs hidden throughout the house saying things like "Friday night will have you going in circles" or "It'll be dark, but you'll still have light." On Friday, he revealed the attire: sporty.
Okay, I thought, we're going up to Mt. Bonnell or some other romantic spot to watch the sunset and have a picnic dinner. But the clue about going in circles made me think we could also be going ice skating. Who knew.
That evening, Jim comes home from work, our babysitter arrives, I give her brief instructions about Marshall, then we head off in our "sporty attire." Later, I was wishing I'd dressed to go to the gym instead of a hike (since that was my guess). Oh goodness.
We get in the car and drive a few streets over to our friends' house, the Luckes. My heart sinks. No offense to the Luckes, but I was hoping it would just be the two of us.
So I said, "Oh, are we going to hang out with the Luckes in their backyard by the firepit?"
The disappointment in my voice must've been obvious because he replied, "No sweetie. This is date night, remember?" He just smiled and pulled open their garage door. I followed his gaze toward the back of the garage, where two road bikes were mounted on the wall.
Ohhhh. A bike ride. Going in circles. Dark, but there will be light. Got it.
He looked at me to gage my excitement. My face was probably skeptical. He quickly pulled out a map to show me the route. The plan was to ride south to UT campus, eat at a fun restaurant around campus, explore UT, ride back up north to the Triangle to get frozen yogurt, then ride home. Ummm...basically, that was a pretty long ride. Maybe not for a Saturday morning workout, but for date night, yeah.
Now, I knew how much planning and thought he'd put into this, knowing that 1) Thanks to my spinning classes and triathlon days, I love cycling and 2) As a UT grad, I love going back to campus to explore all my old haunts. He'd even snuck my spin shoes in a bag, brought helmets, bought lights for the bikes, and brought a bike lock so we could secure them outside while we ate dinner. Very well-planned.
There were just a few minor problems: 1) I hadn't been on a bike since I was pregnant with Marshall (which means a year and a half of not riding!!!), 2) I was wearing hiking shorts, not cycling shorts, which meant MAJOR FRONT WEDGIE and 3) we were borrowing bikes from our TALLEST friends, which meant the seats were too high, the pedals too low and the handlebars too far out and 4) Did I mention that's a long freaking ride?
But hey - I'm "adventure girl" so I smiled and did a mental re-set of expectations: this would not be a relaxing hike up Mt. Bonnell to watch the sunset, followed by a pinic dinner and a cool glass of Chardonnay. No, this would be a challenging, sweaty workout, wearing the wrong shorts and riding the wrong sized bike. But hey, I was gonna roll with it and have a blast! If only that mental re-set had worked!
So off we go, pedaling away, sucking in the cool, crisp October evening air, down Shoal Creek. And I must say, for the first 10 minutes, it was lovely. Quiet, peaceful, such an exhilarating freedom to sail down the pavement, hearing nothing but the whir of the wheels and the pedals.
But then Shoal Creek came to an end and we reached 35th street. Let's just say, 35th isn't exactly biker friendly. There is no bike lane. Not to mention, as soon as we turned onto 35th, it was all uphill. So here we were, two obnoxious bikers, with our red blinking tail lights, slowly chugging up 35th on a Friday night, as cars swerved around us. I could just imagine them, cursing us inside their cars, you @#*(# bikers! We're already late for our dinner reservation/play/movie/fill in the blank. Oh goodness. During that 10 minute span of time, I had never pedaled so hard and fast. I just wanted to get off the freaking street. And I kept praying, "Lord, have mercy on us. Please don't let us get hit by a car. We have a baby!"
When we finally turned on Guadalupe, we decided to hop up on the sidewalk (disobeying bike rules), because it felt much safer. As we slowly rode down the sidewalk, past a multitude of students who were glaring angrily at us, probably because we were hogging the sidewalk, we reached an alleyway. Jim crossed it and I was about to do the same, when a car came out of the alley and roared past me. I came to a halting stop and had to quickly clip out of my pedals. I started wobbling, so to counterbalance myself, I had no choice but to actually put my hand on the car (which had come to a stop, waiting to pull out onto Guadalupe) and lean against it. The lady threw her hands up in the air, like, "what the hell?" and roared off. Luckily, just as the car moved, I was able to readjust myself and clip into my pedals. Jim was further down the sidewalk and didn't even see it, but another biker saw the whole thing. He just happened to be one of those shaven, cut, Lance Armstrong-looking types who totally knew what he was doing. He gave me this condescending look, like "and...why are you on a bike?" In prideful defense, I quickly cycled past him and mumbled, "I'm never borrowing my friend's bike again. It's way too tall for me." Oh, I'm sure that made me look a lot better.
We chose Madam Mam's for dinner. We've been there a thousand times. There's nothing special about it. But it was right in front of us, we were tired, hungry and cranky. We scarfed down our dinner and barely spoke to one another, not so much out of frustration at this point, just complete fatigue. That's when the soreness set in. After 20 minutes of rest and rejuvenation by food, we decided to skip the UT campus tour and head to the Triangle.
I thought my husband was brilliant when he said, "I think we should go a different way going back." Hallelujah!
We went down Speedway, which was a nice jaunt through campus and frat parties, and much less trafficked. It would've actually been an enjoyable ride and if it wasn't for the burning sensation that had begun to emanate from my crotch. I knew this was most likely due to a combination of the hiking shorts and a bike seat that was too tall. I don't even know if a burning sensation is the right word. It was more like a constant ramming into my pubic bone. Every time my foot went down to the bottom of the pedal stroke, my crotch rammed into the pointed part of the seat. And at this point, it was sheer pain. So from Speedway on, I had to stand up in my pedals. No more sitting in the saddle. Nope. All the way home, I stood in my pedals. Luckily, we took a less hilly route going back. But what it meant was that I had to: pedal, pedal, pedal, coast. Then once again, pedal, pedal, pedal, coast...all while standing. It was like taking an advanced spin class. I was pouring sweat and starting to feel angry and resentful as I watched my hubby way ahead of me, just relaxed, comfortably seated on his bike, pedaling in the lowest gear and enjoying the lovely evening. Errrgh.
We still made it to the Triangle for yogurt. I don't remember much. That's when the complaining began. All I could think about was my burning crotch. Jim mentioned that his shoulders were hurting from his bike being too tall for him. But I kept thinking, you have no idea what kind of pain I'm talking about. And let me just say, I'm considering natural child birth for my second baby, just because I loved the labor process so much. I can honestly say this was a pain that was comparable to labor (possibly worse, just because I wasn't mentally prepared for it!).
After yogurt, we were headed back on the home stretch of Shoal Creek. At this point, I'm fighting back tears and cursing date night under my breath. I kept thinking, if only we had done a romantic hike up to Mt. Bonnell. What was HE thinking? That was in my worst moment, of course. He even tried to ride up next to me and encourage me, saying, "Honey, we're almost home. I'm so sorry, I know you're hurting." Silence. I didn't want his sympathy. I didn't want to talk to him. I wanted to punish him for planning such a painful adventure.
Well, we finally made it home. I erupted into tears (after the babysitter left, of course) and we had a bit of a tiff as he didn't feel appreciated and I was pissed at him for feeling so much pain. But somehow, as he always does, by the end of the night, he was able to get me to laugh about it. He even knew how to tease me, saying, "Well, I'm sorry, I just thought you were tougher and more adventurous than that." He knew that would get me, since I like to claim I'm those very things!
He still jokes that he can't wait to take me on another bike ride. We are able to laugh it off as a funny memory. And my burning crotch was better after a couple of days. It was definitely a date night to remember!
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Thankful for Community
Today is Thursday, which, in my small stay-at-home-mommy world...means it's PLAYGROUP DAY! woo hoo! Marshall and I love the opportunity to get out of the house (unless we're hosting that week), play with the other kids, and enjoy some adult conversation, even though it's sporadic and interrupted (we typically have about 5 different conversation strands going by the end of playgroup and rarely finish them).
We had a blast hanging out with our buddies today from the neigborhood, who happen to all have kids under 2! So they're not really "playing together" at this stage. But heck, it's an excuse to get out of the house!
I was just thinking about how wonderful it is to have a group of moms, all about the same age, all with kids about the same age, within walking distance of our home. I could literally think of about 10 families in the neigborhood that I could call up at anytime of day and say, "Hey, you feel like meeting at the park?" What a blessing!
Before I left work to stay home, I was told by several moms that one of the biggest challenges of staying home is the feeling of isolation and lack of adult interaction throughout the day. Perhaps knowing this in advance, I made an intentional effort to get to know other moms around me. The park has been a fantastic place to meet them, as the kids are swinging next to each other or going down the slide together, it's easy to strike up a conversation and learn that you are four houses down from one another.
I am so grateful how God has provided these friendships. It's so sweet to watch our kids grow up together, knowing they will most likely be attending the same school, possibly the same grade and even in the same class! It makes me want to really put roots down with these families, knowing this is a long-term investment, where we are committed to loving one another and loving each other's kids, as they come over for snacks after school or spend the night parties or just a quick "do you mind watching them for an hour while I run an errand?"
I can just imagine the teenage years when we're having to play the 007 role and call each other up and say, "Okay, Marshall said he's spending the night with Levi tonight. Is that the truth?" Then we have to make the walk down to the park together, busting them when we see they've got a sixpack of beer and a pack of cigarettes. Please Lord, be gracious to us as parents! We know you don't give us more than we can handle!
Seriously, I couldn't be more grateful for community. I'm excited to see how the Lord leads us and teaches us through one another and our kids in the years ahead.
We had a blast hanging out with our buddies today from the neigborhood, who happen to all have kids under 2! So they're not really "playing together" at this stage. But heck, it's an excuse to get out of the house!
I was just thinking about how wonderful it is to have a group of moms, all about the same age, all with kids about the same age, within walking distance of our home. I could literally think of about 10 families in the neigborhood that I could call up at anytime of day and say, "Hey, you feel like meeting at the park?" What a blessing!
Before I left work to stay home, I was told by several moms that one of the biggest challenges of staying home is the feeling of isolation and lack of adult interaction throughout the day. Perhaps knowing this in advance, I made an intentional effort to get to know other moms around me. The park has been a fantastic place to meet them, as the kids are swinging next to each other or going down the slide together, it's easy to strike up a conversation and learn that you are four houses down from one another.
I am so grateful how God has provided these friendships. It's so sweet to watch our kids grow up together, knowing they will most likely be attending the same school, possibly the same grade and even in the same class! It makes me want to really put roots down with these families, knowing this is a long-term investment, where we are committed to loving one another and loving each other's kids, as they come over for snacks after school or spend the night parties or just a quick "do you mind watching them for an hour while I run an errand?"
I can just imagine the teenage years when we're having to play the 007 role and call each other up and say, "Okay, Marshall said he's spending the night with Levi tonight. Is that the truth?" Then we have to make the walk down to the park together, busting them when we see they've got a sixpack of beer and a pack of cigarettes. Please Lord, be gracious to us as parents! We know you don't give us more than we can handle!
Seriously, I couldn't be more grateful for community. I'm excited to see how the Lord leads us and teaches us through one another and our kids in the years ahead.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Hang out Time in the Crib
This is a more of a question than a blog post for today, but for all you moms out there, what is the maximum amount of time you will let your little onejust hang out in his crib? Marshall decided to skip his afternoon nap (AND morning one, I might add), so I've decided that playtime in the crib is on the agenda for today. But how long should I keep him in there?
It's been 30 minutes, but I'm thinking atleast an hour would be good (for my own sanity!!!). It's been one of those days and I just need a little bit of alone time to blog, clean the house, etc. He's been quite content, just throwing his animals around, but I can hear him starting to go from babble to fussy. Oh goodness. We'll see how long I can hold out.
You never know what one day will bring!
But I am learning...each day is only a DAY. And "God's mercies are new each morning." So we'll chalk this one up to a fussy day and start over tomorrow!
It's been 30 minutes, but I'm thinking atleast an hour would be good (for my own sanity!!!). It's been one of those days and I just need a little bit of alone time to blog, clean the house, etc. He's been quite content, just throwing his animals around, but I can hear him starting to go from babble to fussy. Oh goodness. We'll see how long I can hold out.
You never know what one day will bring!
But I am learning...each day is only a DAY. And "God's mercies are new each morning." So we'll chalk this one up to a fussy day and start over tomorrow!
Deeds of darkness
After successfully putting Marshall down for his morning nap (well, after a 15 minute protest period where he defiantly stood up in his crib, holding onto the railing with one hand, staring up at the video monitor and swinging his dog lovie around with the other), I finally was able to sit down to a warm mug of hazlenut coffee and a bowl of cereal at my kitchen table to begin my quiet time with the Lord.
As mentioned in previous posts, I recently started a women's bible study on 1 Peter. I have ben using their curriculum to guide my time with the Lord. On a side note - moms, being in a women's Bible study has been SO helpful for getting me back in the Word. I didn't have any structure to my quiet time before and therefore, often wouldn't know where to go in Scripture and then get distracted by other tasks. Now that I am in a Bible study, I have something to guide my time and it's manageable - only 20 minutes or so to complete the daily lessons. This is my plug for any women's Bible study!!!
Anyways, one of the cross references for the 1 Peter passage led me to Romans 13. Verse 12 caught my attention that morning.
"The night is nearly over; the day is almost here. So let us put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light."
I began to pray, "Lord, what does it mean to put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light" in my life?
As someone who has grown up in the church, it is very easy to identify the ways I can "put on the armor of light." Doing things like: reading and memorizing Scripture, praying, regularly attending a worship service, being part of a community of believers who will speak truth into my life, being involved in a Bible study, etc...all of these things are wonderful things to help draw me closer to God and "put on the armor of light" in my life. They are NOT, however, things I do to earn my salvation. It is by grace through faith alone! But they are things that help me "set my mind on things above."
On the flip side of that coin, as someone who's grown up in the church, what does it mean to "put aside the deeds of darkness?" It's easy to identify the "big sins" - the things not to do as a follower of Jesus. But then I prayed, "Lord, what are the subtle sins, the small areas in my life where I am not putting aside deeds of darkness?"
Three things came to mind:
1. Money - do I spend my money in a God-honoring way? Am I buying things for myself, our house, or Marshall with a materialistic need to impress, need to possess attitude?
2. TV - As much as I love reality shows, many of them are not God-honoring shows. The messages they promote do nothing to edify and encourage my relationship with God or my family.
3. Music - I am a runner and I need peppy music to keep me going, so I usually listen to the latest rap/hip-hop/pop artists when I run. I tell myself that I tune out the lyrics and mainly just enjoy the beat, but that's impossible to do! The other day, God must have been convicting me because I noticed the lyrics that day and had to forward through 10 songs before I came to one that was not all about sex, sung about in a non-God honoring way.
So my prayer for today and my challenge to other moms is...what are the "deeds of darkness" in our lives - even subtle ones - that the Lord may be convicting us of and how can we "put them aside"?
As mentioned in previous posts, I recently started a women's bible study on 1 Peter. I have ben using their curriculum to guide my time with the Lord. On a side note - moms, being in a women's Bible study has been SO helpful for getting me back in the Word. I didn't have any structure to my quiet time before and therefore, often wouldn't know where to go in Scripture and then get distracted by other tasks. Now that I am in a Bible study, I have something to guide my time and it's manageable - only 20 minutes or so to complete the daily lessons. This is my plug for any women's Bible study!!!
Anyways, one of the cross references for the 1 Peter passage led me to Romans 13. Verse 12 caught my attention that morning.
"The night is nearly over; the day is almost here. So let us put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light."
I began to pray, "Lord, what does it mean to put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light" in my life?
As someone who has grown up in the church, it is very easy to identify the ways I can "put on the armor of light." Doing things like: reading and memorizing Scripture, praying, regularly attending a worship service, being part of a community of believers who will speak truth into my life, being involved in a Bible study, etc...all of these things are wonderful things to help draw me closer to God and "put on the armor of light" in my life. They are NOT, however, things I do to earn my salvation. It is by grace through faith alone! But they are things that help me "set my mind on things above."
On the flip side of that coin, as someone who's grown up in the church, what does it mean to "put aside the deeds of darkness?" It's easy to identify the "big sins" - the things not to do as a follower of Jesus. But then I prayed, "Lord, what are the subtle sins, the small areas in my life where I am not putting aside deeds of darkness?"
Three things came to mind:
1. Money - do I spend my money in a God-honoring way? Am I buying things for myself, our house, or Marshall with a materialistic need to impress, need to possess attitude?
2. TV - As much as I love reality shows, many of them are not God-honoring shows. The messages they promote do nothing to edify and encourage my relationship with God or my family.
3. Music - I am a runner and I need peppy music to keep me going, so I usually listen to the latest rap/hip-hop/pop artists when I run. I tell myself that I tune out the lyrics and mainly just enjoy the beat, but that's impossible to do! The other day, God must have been convicting me because I noticed the lyrics that day and had to forward through 10 songs before I came to one that was not all about sex, sung about in a non-God honoring way.
So my prayer for today and my challenge to other moms is...what are the "deeds of darkness" in our lives - even subtle ones - that the Lord may be convicting us of and how can we "put them aside"?
To Fully Live
Yesterday afternoon a few of us mommy friends and kids hung out at our neighborhood park. It was an absolutely gorgeous day, full of sunshine, with a slight hint of incoming fall. We let our kiddos explore the playground and "play" with each other, as much as they really know how to play at this age (most of them are 2 or younger).
Marshall is unfortunately still at that stage where he wants to put everything into his mouth. The playground area is made up of little bitty rocks (as opposed to sand). Not ideal for an eight month old.
I was trying to chat with my mommy friends while simultaneously watching Marshall, constantly taking rocks out of his hands as he tried to put them into his mouth. It was a bit nerve-racking.
I tried different places on the playground to distract him from the rocks, which worked temporarily, but he seemed to understand that rocks in the mouth were off-limits, so he kept going back to them. The little willful self coming out already!
Several of us eventually congregated in one corner of the playground near the swingset. Marshall and his buddies were seated on the ground, with a few of us right there beside them. Before I could catch him, Marshall popped a rock into his mouth. He started coughing, and then, the worst sign for a mom...silence and a fearful expression on his face. He was choking. I PANICKED. I grabbed him, did a finger sweep, and could actually feel the rock lodged in his throat. I must've pushed it down because a few seconds later, he was crying. My friend Jenn was right there beside me during the incident and remained calm and reassuring. She even lifted both his arms into the air to help dislodge the rock. Throughout the incident and for a while afterwards, I was shaken up. What if I couldn't have dislodged the rock? In those few horrible seconds, I felt so helpless.
A few hours after the incident, I was still shaken up. The fear and panic was still quite fresh in my mind. Marshall was asleep safe and secure in his crib, but I felt afraid for what was to come.
I know there will probably be worse things then rocks down his throat in the future. How can I protect him from all the horrible things that could happen to him?
The next morning, as I was praying to the Lord about this fear, He reminded me that I CAN'T protect Him from everything. But He can. He is Marshall's maker. He knew him while he was in my womb. He knows the number of hairs on his head. He knows what every day, every minute of Marshall's life will look like. And he knows the number of days Marshall has on this earth. He has given me the blessing of being his mom, but Marshall belongs to Him.
That's when I have to trust Him. I have to remember that 1) God is in control and 2) God is good. I CAN trust him. He's not some horrible ogre that is willing Marshall to get hurt. No, God has a plan for him, "plans to prosper him, not to harm him, plans to give [him] hope and a future."
I know that as a mom, there is that struggle of finding a balance between trying to protect our children from harm, but not overprotecting by preventing them the freedom to explore, to fall down, to get hurt, to be kids. That's when prayer comes in. I have to depend on the Lord for finding that balance and when those fears come again (and I know they will!), I have to say, "Okay God, He is yours. Help me to trust you. Show me how to be a good mom, show me to how to love him and protect him, but allow him the freedom to discover, to love, to fully live.
Marshall is unfortunately still at that stage where he wants to put everything into his mouth. The playground area is made up of little bitty rocks (as opposed to sand). Not ideal for an eight month old.
I was trying to chat with my mommy friends while simultaneously watching Marshall, constantly taking rocks out of his hands as he tried to put them into his mouth. It was a bit nerve-racking.
I tried different places on the playground to distract him from the rocks, which worked temporarily, but he seemed to understand that rocks in the mouth were off-limits, so he kept going back to them. The little willful self coming out already!
Several of us eventually congregated in one corner of the playground near the swingset. Marshall and his buddies were seated on the ground, with a few of us right there beside them. Before I could catch him, Marshall popped a rock into his mouth. He started coughing, and then, the worst sign for a mom...silence and a fearful expression on his face. He was choking. I PANICKED. I grabbed him, did a finger sweep, and could actually feel the rock lodged in his throat. I must've pushed it down because a few seconds later, he was crying. My friend Jenn was right there beside me during the incident and remained calm and reassuring. She even lifted both his arms into the air to help dislodge the rock. Throughout the incident and for a while afterwards, I was shaken up. What if I couldn't have dislodged the rock? In those few horrible seconds, I felt so helpless.
A few hours after the incident, I was still shaken up. The fear and panic was still quite fresh in my mind. Marshall was asleep safe and secure in his crib, but I felt afraid for what was to come.
I know there will probably be worse things then rocks down his throat in the future. How can I protect him from all the horrible things that could happen to him?
The next morning, as I was praying to the Lord about this fear, He reminded me that I CAN'T protect Him from everything. But He can. He is Marshall's maker. He knew him while he was in my womb. He knows the number of hairs on his head. He knows what every day, every minute of Marshall's life will look like. And he knows the number of days Marshall has on this earth. He has given me the blessing of being his mom, but Marshall belongs to Him.
That's when I have to trust Him. I have to remember that 1) God is in control and 2) God is good. I CAN trust him. He's not some horrible ogre that is willing Marshall to get hurt. No, God has a plan for him, "plans to prosper him, not to harm him, plans to give [him] hope and a future."
I know that as a mom, there is that struggle of finding a balance between trying to protect our children from harm, but not overprotecting by preventing them the freedom to explore, to fall down, to get hurt, to be kids. That's when prayer comes in. I have to depend on the Lord for finding that balance and when those fears come again (and I know they will!), I have to say, "Okay God, He is yours. Help me to trust you. Show me how to be a good mom, show me to how to love him and protect him, but allow him the freedom to discover, to love, to fully live.
Fear on UT campus
Today is Mother's Day Out for Marshall. When I arrived at the church to drop him off, my keycode to get into the building wouldn't work. A few minutes passed, then a sweet lady appeared behind the glass doors and poked her head out. She probed gently, "Are you here for Mother's Day Out?"
I said yes and gave her my name. She then informed me that the church was in lockdown mode because a few blocks away, on UT campus, there was a shooter, possibly two of them. As a security precaution, they were strictly monitoring traffic coming and going from the building.
After I dropped my son off and left, I quickly tuned into the radio to hear what was going on. I was shocked when I learned that the shooter was in the PCL (Perry Castenada Library), where I had spent many hours both as an undergrad, and more recently, as a grad student. I listened as reports came in from students on Twitter and Facebook about the shooter. It didn't sound like he killed anyone but himself, but the very news of a shooter made me shudder.
Once again...fear washed over me. What if Marshall was a college student when that happened? What about parents who had kids at UT at that moment? Lord, how do we trust You in times like these? If something awful happened, how do we continue worshipping and following You, without getting angry, bitter or full of despair?
I have to bring every thought captive and remember what I had reflected on earlier. We are "strangers" here on earth, in this foreign place where there is real evil, sadness and tragedy. But we look forward to the "hope that is to be revealed." Until then, we groan, longing eagerly for our home in heaven.
Easy to say, harder to put in practice. But I'm trying. Daily.
Lord, keep my mind on things above and trust in Your provision.
No Gifts, Please
Okay, so Marshall's 1 year birthday is still 4 months away...but I have to admit, I'm already planning! I didn't think I would be this excited about it, but I can't help myself. I'm excited to celebrate surviving one year, enjoying one year, a little sad that a year has already gone by, but also REJOICING that I got through what I thought was one of the hardest years of my life. It's so crazy to think that my little boy is already turning 1!
So I'm thinking about a cowboy theme...and I'm not talking about going over the top or anything, just some fun decorations. There are SO many cute things on Etsy.com. It's been a great place to go just to get ideas!
But I'm not writing about party themes or decorations today...I'm writing about gifts. While I absolutely love the idea of throwing a birthday party and celebrating Marshall turning one, something in me doesn't feel right about making a huge focus on birthday gifts. First of all, he has plenty of toys and entertainment and he doesn't really NEED anything. Second of all, as a follower of Jesus, I want to encourage godly principles, not worldly ones. And showering him with gifts every year just isn't a message I want to send him. So how do I do this without offending family or friends who want to give him things?
Well, I think for starters, I'm going to make it clear on the invitation: "No gifts, please." Most people, honestly, I think will be relieved they don't have to go figure out what a one year old boy wants and go buy it. I know there will be family and friends who will want to buy him something and I am okay with that, but I don't want it presented at his birthday party, in front of a huge crowd, making a big production of it. There are plenty of birthdays where that is the norm and that's fine, it's just not what I want our family to be about. Gifts can be simple things, like a toy that's been in the closet for awhile and hasn't been used. Or even better, finding a way to serve someone else, like clearing their plate from the table or giving them a hug. I just don't think buying a lot of "things" is what I want to encourage.
My vision and ability to articulate this still hasn't even really fully developed, so I'm sure there will be more to come...especially around Christmas time. But for now...my only thought is, I'd like to include a request on the invite that says "No gifts, please." We'll see how that goes!
Okay, so Marshall's 1 year birthday is still 4 months away...but I have to admit, I'm already planning! I didn't think I would be this excited about it, but I can't help myself. I'm excited to celebrate surviving one year, enjoying one year, a little sad that a year has already gone by, but also REJOICING that I got through what I thought was one of the hardest years of my life. It's so crazy to think that my little boy is already turning 1!
So I'm thinking about a cowboy theme...and I'm not talking about going over the top or anything, just some fun decorations. There are SO many cute things on Etsy.com. It's been a great place to go just to get ideas!
But I'm not writing about party themes or decorations today...I'm writing about gifts. While I absolutely love the idea of throwing a birthday party and celebrating Marshall turning one, something in me doesn't feel right about making a huge focus on birthday gifts. First of all, he has plenty of toys and entertainment and he doesn't really NEED anything. Second of all, as a follower of Jesus, I want to encourage godly principles, not worldly ones. And showering him with gifts every year just isn't a message I want to send him. So how do I do this without offending family or friends who want to give him things?
Well, I think for starters, I'm going to make it clear on the invitation: "No gifts, please." Most people, honestly, I think will be relieved they don't have to go figure out what a one year old boy wants and go buy it. I know there will be family and friends who will want to buy him something and I am okay with that, but I don't want it presented at his birthday party, in front of a huge crowd, making a big production of it. There are plenty of birthdays where that is the norm and that's fine, it's just not what I want our family to be about. Gifts can be simple things, like a toy that's been in the closet for awhile and hasn't been used. Or even better, finding a way to serve someone else, like clearing their plate from the table or giving them a hug. I just don't think buying a lot of "things" is what I want to encourage.
My vision and ability to articulate this still hasn't even really fully developed, so I'm sure there will be more to come...especially around Christmas time. But for now...my only thought is, I'd like to include a request on the invite that says "No gifts, please." We'll see how that goes!
To Be Busy at Home
I've been reading a simple, yet challenging book called "Feminine Appeal" on the roles of women. It is based on Titus 2:4-5 that calls for young women to "love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled and pure, to be busy at home, to be kind and to be subject to their husbands so that no one will malign the word of God."
There's a whole bunch of stuff in that passage that might make a few of us uncomfortable. I'll save the "be subject to our husbands" discussion for another day. I was actually curious, as a SAHM (stay at home mom), to know the meaning of the phrase "to be busy at home." After studying this passage, with the help of commentary from "Feminine Appeal," I learned that as women, we are called to make the home a beautiful, warm and inviting place where our husbands and children feel safe and loved. We have been created as women to fulfill this role and enjoy it. That didn't sound as confining or derogatory as I expected. It actually sounded like a wonderful outlet for creativity.
But in order to make the home a warm and inviting place where our husband, children and own selves can feel loved, restful and safe, we must make the home a priority. This means that other activities, like lunches and coffees with friends, playgroups, music class, work (for those working moms!), exercise, shopping, parties, or whatever activities fill your calendar...must take a backseat to the home. I'm not saying these activities are bad things...by no means, we need them! But in order to make the home a warm and inviting place for my husband and children, the home must come before those other things.
I found it helpful to ask the following question before making any commitment:
* How will this benefit my husband and children?
For example, 0n a good day, exercise will make me feel energized and upbeat, which is great for my husband and my son. But on a day when I haven't had much sleep or am just feeling lethargic, though exercise may be something I feel I should do to stay trim and look good, I know I will be exhausted by the time my husband comes home, with little energy to give him or my son. In the latter case, exercise is a selfish choice, where I put my needs first and that negatively affects my husband and son.
So maybe not all of you are exercise-aholics like myself and can't relate to that example. Let's try another: TV. I LOVE the Food Network, HGTV, and an occasional show like The Biggest Loser. :) During one of Marshall's nap times, I sometimes watch one of my favorite shows to relax and "veg out." Let's ask: how will this benefit my husband and son? On one day, lying on the sofa and watching a 30 minute show may actually refresh me before my hubby gets home. But on another day, when I haven't had my devotional time with God or planned dinner for that night, I will actually just feel stressed about dinner and guilt-ridden that I didn't have a devo time after watching the show. You see what I mean?
I get that this can easily become legalistic. But the goal here is to prioritize your commitments around your home and your family. They must come before friends, extended family, exercise, shopping, playdates, etc. As a SAHM, it's easy to fill our days with activities just to get us out of the house and interact with other adults. And that is usually a healthy need. But I've often found myself booking my week so full of social activities (or busy-body errands) that by the time Jim gets home, I'm irritable, tired and don't feel like talking to anyone, even my sweet hubby. Titus 2 has challenged me to realize that being "busy at home" means making my family and my home first priority.
There's a whole bunch of stuff in that passage that might make a few of us uncomfortable. I'll save the "be subject to our husbands" discussion for another day. I was actually curious, as a SAHM (stay at home mom), to know the meaning of the phrase "to be busy at home." After studying this passage, with the help of commentary from "Feminine Appeal," I learned that as women, we are called to make the home a beautiful, warm and inviting place where our husbands and children feel safe and loved. We have been created as women to fulfill this role and enjoy it. That didn't sound as confining or derogatory as I expected. It actually sounded like a wonderful outlet for creativity.
But in order to make the home a warm and inviting place where our husband, children and own selves can feel loved, restful and safe, we must make the home a priority. This means that other activities, like lunches and coffees with friends, playgroups, music class, work (for those working moms!), exercise, shopping, parties, or whatever activities fill your calendar...must take a backseat to the home. I'm not saying these activities are bad things...by no means, we need them! But in order to make the home a warm and inviting place for my husband and children, the home must come before those other things.
I found it helpful to ask the following question before making any commitment:
* How will this benefit my husband and children?
For example, 0n a good day, exercise will make me feel energized and upbeat, which is great for my husband and my son. But on a day when I haven't had much sleep or am just feeling lethargic, though exercise may be something I feel I should do to stay trim and look good, I know I will be exhausted by the time my husband comes home, with little energy to give him or my son. In the latter case, exercise is a selfish choice, where I put my needs first and that negatively affects my husband and son.
So maybe not all of you are exercise-aholics like myself and can't relate to that example. Let's try another: TV. I LOVE the Food Network, HGTV, and an occasional show like The Biggest Loser. :) During one of Marshall's nap times, I sometimes watch one of my favorite shows to relax and "veg out." Let's ask: how will this benefit my husband and son? On one day, lying on the sofa and watching a 30 minute show may actually refresh me before my hubby gets home. But on another day, when I haven't had my devotional time with God or planned dinner for that night, I will actually just feel stressed about dinner and guilt-ridden that I didn't have a devo time after watching the show. You see what I mean?
I get that this can easily become legalistic. But the goal here is to prioritize your commitments around your home and your family. They must come before friends, extended family, exercise, shopping, playdates, etc. As a SAHM, it's easy to fill our days with activities just to get us out of the house and interact with other adults. And that is usually a healthy need. But I've often found myself booking my week so full of social activities (or busy-body errands) that by the time Jim gets home, I'm irritable, tired and don't feel like talking to anyone, even my sweet hubby. Titus 2 has challenged me to realize that being "busy at home" means making my family and my home first priority.
Is suffering really worth it?
So God must've really wanted to bring 1 Peter 1:6-7 to my attention this week because not only was it my homework for my women's Bible study, but it was also what our pastor preached on Sunday morning. Coincidence? I think not.
Let's look at it again:
"In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith - of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire - may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed."
Last week, I was struggling with a fear of suffering, specifically that it might mean losing Marshall. This week, after a few rough nights of 3am feedings followed by 4:30 am wake-ups (yes, he was wide awake, ready to begin his day at 4am!!!), I began to think of my "suffering" in a different light. My hubby helped point out that perhaps Marshall, as much as we adore him, is also a "trial" God has given us.
As we listened to the pastor preach on suffering this week, he made an interesting point about what it means to "rejoice in suffering." It does not mean that we should rejoice in the trial itself, because that's not logical. But it means that we are to rejoice in the RESULT of the trial. And what is that result? That "our faith - of greater worth than gold...may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed."
Similarly, James 1:2-4 says, "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything."
Through trials, our faith is being tested, we are being refined like gold, held out over a hot flame, allowing the impurities in our life to burn away. In the midst of the trial, it hurts, it's painful, and we want to flee from it. Yet this refining process, this testing of our faith IS necessary. It shapes us, it purifies it, it makes us more like Jesus.
For me, this week especially, as I've felt exhausted and irritable from several nights in a row of poor sleep, there is a part of me that wants to get angry and demand my rights. Last night, when Marshall began to wail for the third night in a row at 3am, I thought to myself, "This is ridiculous! I deserve some freaking sleep!"
Yes, I know, he's only a baby and it's just a temporary phase, any mom will tell you. But you moms also know what it feels like to be in that very moment, when you feel like you are going to lose it, you're just so darn tired and ticked off.
Perhaps these past 8 months of poor sleep have been part of a"trial" that God's chosen to send my way. Perhaps I've needed to be brought to my knees and experience such physical and emotional exhaustion that it's hard to get through the day. Perhaps in my weakness, God is teaching me that I can't do it alone, that I must depend on Him. It is hard to love my husband well on little sleep. It is hard to be kind and tender and think of someone else's needs above your own when you're grouchy. It's hard not to think, "if only you knew what it felt like to do this job everyday!" It's hard to not have a sense of entitlement, or self-pity, or to keep score of who did what.
But Jesus is calling us to so much more. Jesus is calling us to love our husbands well, even when we're tired. He's calling us to love and serve and forgive, even when we don't feel like it. And the only way we're going to be able to do that is through God's gracious hand upon us, which I am realizing...can sometimes come in the form of suffering.
So in the midst of our trials, we really CAN rejoice, knowing that the result of our suffering is to test our faith, to produce perseverance, and ultimately, to make us more like Jesus. And that IS worth it.
You Know You are a Stay at Home Mom When....
1. You forget what day it is
2. You are in SHOCK when your baby naps long enough that you actually get all the laundry and housecleaning done and STILL have time to take a shower and get dressed
3. You get TICKED when someone asks, "So what do you do all day?" Really???
4. You are in your pajamas past noon (and to answer #3, we are NOT lying on the couch and eating bon bons all day!)
5. You freak out when the UPS delivery guy rings the doorbell right when your baby has gone down for a nap
6. You feel good about yourself when you are able to get out of the house and run more than 1 errand
7. You had NO idea how many solicitors come by during the day
8. You love going to the grocery at 10:30 on a Tuesday when nobody is there!
9. You struggle with feeling "nap locked" at home (thanks Elizabeth Gunter, for sharing this term with me!) because you only have a short window of time before you have to be back home for the next nap
10. On a really bad day (sick baby, sick mommy, teething or just plain fussy), Signing Time and Baby Einstein DVD's are your BEST FRIEND.
11. When your husband comes home and asks, "So how was your day?" you find yourself downloading the minute details of diapers, naps, meals, and funny moments.
12. When your husband comes home, you are SO ready to hand off your child, but have learned to graciously allow him a few minutes of "unwind time" (I have to ignore the voice that says: what about MY unwind time?!?)
13. On a bad day, you feel envious of your working mom friends because you think they've got it easy (and working moms, I KNOW that's not the case, it's just a grass is greener mentality!)
14. Highlights of your day include: watching a new funny face, feeding them a new food, listening to them make a funny sound or letting them discover something like how to open a cabinet (uh oh!)
15. You realize that, despite how exhausted you are by the end of the day, there is no other job in the world that you'd want to be doing because they are SO worth it!!!
Strangers in the World
So I recently joined a women's Bible study on Wednesday mornings. I'm really enjoying it, especally since as a new mom, taking time to study God's word seems like an impossibility with an eight month old who wants my contant attention. And it turns out...most of the women in my group are tenured moms or grandmothers, so I feel like I am surrounded by fountains of wisdom!!! God knew I needed this study!
We are studying 1 Peter. As I was doing my lesson for the week, sitting on a plane next to my husband, flying back from Seattle after a much-appreciated 4 day weekend get-away, just the two of us, without our precious little boy (my mom watched Marshall-GO MOM!), I came to this passage on suffering and actually cringed as I read it:
"In this, you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith - of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire - may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed." 1 Peter 1:6-7
That day, my gut reaction to that passage was a fearful one: "Lord, what kind of suffering are you going to send my way? Will I be able to handle it?"
Now, let me just say, I'm not a fearful person. My friends and family can attest to that, knowing my history of skydiving, bull runs, hang gliding, you name it. I actually used to pray: "Lord, if you are calling me to a poor, malaria-infested, dangerous area of the world for the sake of the gospel, I will go! If it means suffering for the sake of the gospel, let me do it!" I idealized suffering, thinking it was heroic and even "super spiritual."
But then, I became a mom. As I read those verses with my "mommy lens," I felt AFRAID. What if the form of suffering God is going to use to teach me has to do with Marshall...what if something bad will happen to him, like a freak accident? What if he gets really sick? Or worse of all, dies??? Fear washed over me as I sat on that plane and let my mind run through every possible dangerous or deadly scenario that could happen before we got home to him. I felt anxious and queasy.
I had to keep whispering to myself, "Fear is not from the Lord" over and over again. My sweet hubby noticed my anxious state and graciously talked me through it, reminding me to "take every thought captive to Christ."
Later, I prayed God would point out an aspect of truth from the passage to combat my fear.
A short, simple phrase, "strangers in the world" jumped out at me from the page. I had heard the saying before, "this is not our home." Admittedly, I thought it was a little trite the way Christians would say, "Remember, this place is only temporary." Try telling that to a mother who has lost her child! But something about the phrase spoke to me this time.
What does it mean to be strangers here? It means we don't belong. It means we are outsiders. It means we are on a temporary journey, a long trip. We will have good times and bad, sweet times and hard ones. It means when we do leave this world, we will finally be HOME, where we BELONG. Just as I was on that plane, eager to get home to see my little boy and hug and kiss his neck, so are we to LONG to be in God's presence, to be reunited with Him.
I shared my reflections in my morning Bible study. A few sweet ladies sympathized with my fear and shared fears of their own. Two of them had even experienced the very thing I fear, loss of their child. Each of those lovely women, despite their suffering, had their hopes set on the glorious future of being with our Lord. Yes, they were HOPEFUL, not fearful and defeated. That's the kind of hope I want to have!
I don't know what tomorrow brings. I do know I will face sufferings and trials of many kinds in this world. I still battle with fearful thoughts about Marshall on a daily basis. But I am trying to take them captive and remind myself: I am a stranger here. This is not my home. And when I do go home, I know that being in the presence of my Lord and Savior will be worth it ALL.
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