Final Project

I co-lead a connect group this summer at church. It was a great experience, mainly because we had a small, tight group and we really dug in to deep, rich, real stuff. Our final project of sorts was to take all we had learned about the lineage and history of Jesus and write Jesus' "I'm From" poem. (If you are unfamiliar with this type of writing, check it out.) Writing has always been very therapeutic for me, but this experience was different. I wrote it one night after I'd gotten up with a kid who had promptly rolled over and gone back to sleep. I did some research, made some lists, and did some brainstorming. I tried to touch on specific people and events without naming names. And in the process, I was reminded yet again how incredible and relate-able and even unbelievable this Story is.

I am from manger hay and swaddling cloth.

From lilies of the valley, from olive trees and mustard seeds.

From oil lamps and bushels, cedar and sawdust, chisel and ax.

From builders and soldiers,

From shepherds and kings,

From carpenters and commanders of armies.

I am from the garden, the mountain, the river, the reeds,

I am from hillsides and pastures and deserts,

From cloaks and sandals and dust.

From parting waters

tumbling walls

nighttime sun.

I am from My Father’s House.

I am from the master and the enslaved,

the brave and the coward,

the envious and the envied,

deceiver and deceived.

From anger and fear, from spirit and courage and heart - the sort it takes to

build an ark,

kill a giant,

face lions,

walk through fire,

bear a cross.

I am from doubters and thieves, fleers and prisoners,

From dreamers, wanderers, schemers,

From the faithless and the faithful,

Devout and doubt.

I am from My Father, who

Loves the loveless

Restores the hopeless,

Rescues the abandoned,

Comforts the grieving,

Makes brave the coward,

Makes right the sinner,

Saves

The

Lost.

I am from the very beginning, when my Father first called the world into being.

And I am from the very end, when, through Him, all the wrongs will

forever

be

made

right.

Book: I Will Carry You

I Will Carry You

by Angie Smith

Length: 224

Format: Paperback
Price: $1 at a garage sale

How I heard about it: I attended a conference a few years ago where the author was the keynote speaker.

Basic Premise: Angie Smith and her husband Todd were eagerly anticipating the birth of their daughter when a routine sonogram went horribly wrong. Told that their daughter was "incompatible with life," the two pressed forward knowing that, while Their God was capable of working a miracle, He might not.

I'm not going to write a review of this book. It didn't even feel like a book in my hands. It felt like I stepped out of my life and into theirs for the three straight hours it took me to read it cover to cover. I hope it's not irreverent to say that, because of course I have no idea what it is like to be where they are.

I feel like I know Angie a little. I heard her speak (powerfully) at a conference, I follow her on Facebook and Instagram, and I am currently on my third trip through her Seamless study. Additionally, I saw her husband Todd, lead singer of the musical group Selah, perform WAAAAAAY back in 1998 in Colorado. He sang "It Is Well with My Soul" a cappella, and I remember thinking, I will never hear anyone sing this beautifully ever again this side of heaven. It was truly the most amazing thing ever. What talent. So, between all these things, I feel like I can trust them. Like I know them.

The story was told beautifully, gracefully, and honestly. They were told she wouldn't make it and advised to terminate the pregnancy. Everywhere they went, the faces of the medical professionals they encountered were grave, stricken, often teary. They knew the prognosis was not good; impossible. But they also new they served a God who specialized in impossibility. Their hope was in Him, not in doctors. This part resonated with me.

With both my pregnancies, I was told my babies had problems. With Brother, we were told at 18 weeks that he was missing a strand of his umbilical cord. This could be inconsequential, or he could die. I remember Googling the condition incessantly (which I do not recommend) and lying on my bed crying and wailing because this could not be happening to my sweet son. I remember the week between getting this news and the Level 2 sonogram with the specialist as the longest of my life (to that point). My mother prayed ardently for a miracle and I did too, but I was angry. When the doctor pronounced him "perfect in every way," I cried immediately and for the duration of the drive home from Kansas City. 

Sister was harder. At 30 weeks, something was seriously wrong. My fluid level was below the safety zone and I was sent to labor and delivery after what was supposed to be a routine sonogram. I was admitted and kept for 5 days while the doctors tried to figure out why my fluid level was so inexplicably low. A neonatal surgeon came in to explain to me what would happen in the now-likely event I needed to deliver early. After 4 weeks of bedrest, it was determined that the womb was no longer a safe place for our baby, so they delivered her six weeks early. She was to spend the longest 19 days of our lives in the hospital hooked up to all sorts of machines. Her lungs were too small, heart beat too fast and then not fast enough, she couldn't eat, she couldn't regulate her body temperature, there was a spot on her brain - so much more.

But the difference for me was that my babies are fine. It was ultimately easy to trust God, because things worked out the way I wanted. And this is where my ability to identify with Angie and Todd fades, because their story didn't go as they would have written it.

I probably cried for 40% of this book. I cried out of compassion and sympathy, but also out of awe at their faith. Angie writes that she found comfort in the story of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, and though I have literally read or heard this story 100 times before, she made one note that floored me.

One of the most popular verses in Scripture is John 11:35 "Jesus wept." I can recall this from memory because it is discussed often in church-y circles. The boys in my youth group loved to recall this as their "favorite verse" because it was short and they actually had it memorized. I knew the context, and knew that Jesus was weeping because his friend Lazarus had died. But here's what I never realized: Jesus knew what was going to happen. He knew he was going to raise Lazarus from the dead. His tears were not for Lazarus. They were for Mary and Martha. He felt their pain and suffering as if it were His. And He longs to grieve alongside us if we will only turn to Him.

How many times have I done the opposite in the face of hardship? I get angry and selfish and question His goodness. (Although, God knows I have never dealt with anything that can even hold a candle to this.) He longs to not only bear my burdens for me, but bear ME. Carry me. Why don't I let Him?

I will end with one final piece of beauty from this book. I just finished The Hiding Place, and I highlighted a passage I loved. Corrie is a young girl and she has just asked her father a question she doesn't understand. It that reads like this:

He turned to look at me, as he always did when answering a question, but to my surprise he said nothing. At last he stood up, lifting his traveling case from the rack over our heads, and set it on the floor.

 "Will you carry it off the train, Corrie?" he said.

I stood up and tugged at it. It was crammed with watches and spare parts he had purchased that morning.

"It's too heavy," I said.

 "Yes," he said. "And I would be a pretty poor father who would ask his daughter to carry such a load. It's the same way, Corrie, with knowledge. Some knowledge is too heavy for children. When you are older and stronger, you an bear it. For now you must trust me to carry it for you." 

 And I was satisfied. More than satisfied - wonderfully at peace. There were answers to this and all my hard questions - for now I was content to leave them in my father's keeping.

I have shared this passage with several people since reading it, because it made an impression - something I can share with my children, but also, something I can claim when I stumble upon mysteries of God and this world that I just can't reconcile. I can leave them in My Father's keeping, because He is wise and good and He can bear the weight.

Near the end of the book, when Angie was trying to explain to her children what had happened to their sister, she quotes this exact passage. Because though she can't understand it, she trusts the Father Who does.

What a Mighty God we serve.

Kindle Book: The Poisonwood Bible

The Poisonwood Bible

by Barbara Kingsolver

Length: 576

Format: eBook
Price: Downloaded from Overdrive

How I heard about it: It's on my list.

Basic Premise: A young missionary family sets out to Christian-ize a remote area of the Congo in the early 1960s. What began as a bright adventure full of joy and promise leaves the family scarred and scattered.

My Take: 6.5 out of 10 (scale here)

This book was very well-written. It alternated between the perspective of five characters, four of whom were the daughters, and though I anticipated it would be difficult to keep them all straight, it actually wasn't. The beautiful language and imagery made it seem like I could step outside and be there, in the middle of the Congolese jungle, watching children play, swatting mosquitoes, and eating a freshly-picked banana.

But for all the book's positives, it was just so...uncomfortable. The father, the one who felt so "called" to "ministering" to the people of the Congo, was a tyrannical, maniacal psychopath who idolized his own integrity and righteousness far above his God. In this process, he alienated his "church-goers" (who were really just there to come in from the sun) and drove a wedge so deep between himself and his family that when things started to fall apart, he didn't even notice. I did loved how the author played with irony - this man was obsessed with getting people baptized. He kept trying to get people to come down to the river and be baptized, but because he made no effort whatsoever to get to know the people or the culture, he didn't realize the river was infested with vicious crocodiles who had picked off a number of the villagers already. It was so depressing to me to read about this pious, ungodly man who ranked right up there with the scum of the earth and think about the fact that people believed he was a man of God. And because of that sampling, they said, "No, thank you, I don't want anything to do with God." It makes me uncomfortable because I have known people like him and I have read and heard the sorts of things he said. It makes me uncomfortable because I know that, while I strive to love and live for and serve this God, there are visible moments when my life or my words or my deeds or my all of the above reflect the opposite effort. It's a lot to stomach the fact that something I do might shape the opposite feeling about God in others. In short, the discomfort comes from the similarities I was able to draw from this horrible man to myself. It made me shudder many, many times.

ALTHOUGH! There was a glorious moment in the book, where the former missionary in their post comes through, and rather than spouting off about sins and hell and death, he is dispensing food and medicine and clothing to the people who are in such desperate need. One of the daughters begins to dialogue with him about how different the people respond to him over her father. His response, "Well, my dear, there are Christians, and then there are Christians."

Yes. Yes there are.

List Progress:

1. I Am Malala by Christina Lamb and Malala Yousafzai review here
2. The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky
3. The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood
4. Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher review here
5. The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls
6. A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving review here
7. The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver
8.  Does My Head Look Big in This? by Randa Abdel-Fattah review here
9. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Timeby Mark Haddon
10. Uglies by Scott Westerfeld (read before I started blogging)
11. The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Díaz
12. Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie review here
13. Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson (read before I started blogging)
14. Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood
15. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer review here
16. Bossypants by Tina Fey
17. Jasper Jones by Craig Silvey
18. The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins (read before I started blogging)
19. The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd (read before I started blogging)
20. Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen *abandoned*
21. Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell review here
22. She’s Come Undone by Wally Lamb
23. Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling - can we have a moment for whoever created this list? "Harry Potter" is not a book. It's a series of books. Sheesh.
24. Looking for Alaska by John Green review here
25. The Book Thief by Markus Zuzak review here
26. The Kite Runner by Khaled Housseini review here

Spectacle

This summer, I went to the hospital to see Lindsey and her new baby. On my way out, my feet kind of steered themselves off the elevator and on to the second floor, down the narrow, windowed hall, past the stairway to the long hall that lead to the NICU. I sat down on one of the benches and stared through the glass doors and into the ward. I smelled the familiar smells. I watched the familiar sight of parents walking by and going through the drill. Sign in. Stick the thermometer under your tongue. Record the reading. Hand-sanitize. Get your key and go see your baby, hoping and praying with every step that she is well. I wondered how early their baby was.

And despite my best efforts to keep myself together, I sat on the bench and cried. I cried for my Lucy. I cried for the woman I was and the man my husband was then. I cried for the parents who were in the throes of this struggle. And I cried for their babies. And in any other setting, I might have made a spectacle of myself, but here, seeing someone you don't know in tears is just part of NICU culture. Because when your newborn looks like this, it's hard to hear even the doctors and nurses over all your worry. You can't see it in the picture, but Lucy has an IV in her head. (There's a hole in the hat, which I kept.) That thing on her face is called a bubble C-pap. There is also a feeding tube running up her nose. The sensor things taped to her torso are measuring breathing or blood flow or something. There is a blood pressure cuff on her foot and I can't remember what that thick tube in the back is for.

Last week, as a part of our connect group story, I read John 9:1-3:

As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man who had been blind from birth. "Rabbi," his disciples asked him, "why was this man born blind? Was it because of his own sins or his parents' sins?" "It was not because of his sins or his parents' sins," Jesus answered. "This happened so the power of God could be seen in him."

 So the power of God could be seen in her.

October 22, 2012, after a 19-day stay in the NICU, we took Lucy home. Within a year, she was caught up with her peers in size, and within two years, she was caught up with them entirely. And from the very moment of her birth, she has been a testament to the power of God.

Keep that up, Lucy Jean.

The {New} Job

So, after two years of driving 70-90 minutes (depending on the time of day) twice a day to commute to work, Husband got a new job to which he drives 7-9 minutes (depending on the lights) twice a day.

I can't really put into words how this has changed our lives, so I'm not going to try. What I'm going to do instead is describe the extraordinary circumstances God used to get us here.

Circumstance #1: BURNOUT
I was overwhelmed. A typical day worked like this - up at 5 AM, chores, shower, dress, get kids up, dressed, fed, and out the door. Drop off at school (or sometimes Grandma's depending on Sister's location for the day), get to work, scramble to get stuff ready, teach ALL day, try to get the kids picked up by 3:45 (though it was usually 4), run any errands required, get home, try to get dinner ready, hurry up and eat it, and get wherever we were supposed to get (if it was a Wednesday or Thursday) and hope hope hope I wouldn't get a text that said, "Hey, I have to work late. Probably be home after the kids are in bed." He worked CONSTANTLY and also had to travel out of state. In fact, last year, he was gone the week before I had to go back to work and the week school started. And this was just me, people. Imagine how he was feeling - never home, always driving or working, never seeing the kids, leaving home before the sun comes up and coming home well after.

As you might imagine, this was leading to extreme frustration on both our parts - mine because I was shouldering almost all the home and child-raising responsibilities and working full-time, and his because he was always working or driving. We discussed moving there. We discussed moving halfway and both commuting. We discussed me getting another job that would allow me to be home more. We discussed everything we could possibly think of, and every time, the best solution was to get a job where we already live. But that was easier said than done.

Circumstance #2: COUNSEL
In January, he was offered a position on the East Coast with his job. That might have solved our problem - it meant we would just all move to the East Coast and we could buy a place close to his work. By the time the offer was finalized, it was relatively easy to turn down. It wasn't going to be enough for me to quit my job, which is really the only reason we would have considered it. Later that month, we asked a trusted friend to listen to our hearts about the situation and offer counsel. He did - he said, "You can't keep doing what you are doing. It's too much and it's not good for your kids. Let's pray for a job here."

Yes. That is a good idea.

Circumstance #3: BILL SELF'S HOUSE
In February, Husband was invited by our friends Zak and Jo to a charity event in Lawrence at Bill Self's house. Bill Self's house. This is REAL LIFE, people. BILL SELF'S HOUSE. (I was invited, too, but naturally, it was one of the FOUR EVENINGS A YEAR I HAVE TO WORK. So while he got to sit on Bill's couch and chat with Cindy, I was at parent teacher conferences trying to pretend I was happy about it.) As he was mingling and sending me pictures of Bill's pool table, Zak introduced him to a man who worked for an engineering firm in Lawrence. Husband knew the same company had an office where we live. 7-9 minutes away, to be exact. As they chatted, Husband learned that he actually ran the office in Lawrence, and when he learned Husband was driving over an hour to and from work every day, he said, "Well if you ever want to nix that drive, let me know. They are looking to hire an MEP (mechanical/electrical/pluming, PS). Send me your resume if you're interested."

People, MAGIC THINGS happen at Bill Self's house.

Circumstance #4: INTERVIEWS (5!)
We sent said resume. Obviously. Within a week, Husband had received an email asking if he'd like to meet a few of them for drinks - not an interview, but a "talk." He went and it went very very well. Our hopes were high.

Over the course of the next THREE MONTHS, Husband went in four more times. I'm not sure why they needed four (five, if you count the "talk") meetings with him, but FINALLY they offered him a job. Obviously, we were ecstatic. It was a bit of a pay cut, but not when you considered the money we'd save in gas, not to mention the priceless driving time! Husband called and accepted.
Yes,
yes,
yes.

Circumstance #5: Wait...what?
The next day was a Thursday. My people-pleaser husband was dreading telling his bosses (whom he loved, and who have always treated him well) that he was quitting. I think he felt physically ill. When he did it, both of them immediately responded with "We want to keep you. Let us get our ducks in a row and we will have a counter offer." Okay, let me be frank here. Husband is very, very good at his job. He is a perfectionist in the extreme, and in only two years, he had worked himself into project management positions and become the software expert on his team. He also very, very good with people, and if you know many engineers, you know this is not necessarily the case with all of them. Throughout his two years with this company, Husband has frequently been hailed and praised by his superiors for his "harmonious" disposition and his "leadership" skills and potential. So it wasn't exactly a shocker when they said they wanted to keep him. He basically told them this wasn't a career move - it wasn't about money. It was about being home more. And there was no possible way they could give that to him. So thank you for the compliment, and I have loved working with you, but putting together an offer would be a waste of your time.

They relented. We were looking forward to only two more weeks of driving! The night before his last few days, he said to me, "I'm really looking forward to these last few days. Low stress, tying up loose ends, and just being done."

I got an email at work the next day that said, "Can you talk? We have a problem..." Um...what? I called as soon as possible. Husband had just spent half an hour with the PRESIDENT (this is a a 500+ employee company, people). He said he had just learned that Husband was leaving. He offered him a 15% increase and the ability to work from home.

Wait...what?

"I am furious with your team for not offering this to you in the first place. We want to keep you. I realize you have already accepted this other offer, but you are the kind of guy we want to pass the company off to someday. We will do whatever we need to to keep you, which includes making an exception to that part of the handbook that says, 'Employees who live within 200 miles are expected to drive to work every day.' So, what do you say?"

I can honestly tell you Husband was heartbroken. He loved his job. He loved the people, he loved the company, he could see a future there for sure. Had he known this was an option (and why would he? NO ONE works from home. Not even the VPs!), we very likely would have taken it. I was proud of him for saying as much to the president, who nodded and said, "Yes, we dropped the ball. This was our fault and I'm sorry." In true Husband fashion, he thanked him for his time and faith in him, told him he'd already made a commitment, and shook his hand. The president said he understood and admired Husband for his decision, but should he ever change his mind, the offer would stand.

Two Months In:

Two months in, things are going well. Husband is home nearly every day by 4:40, rarely works overtime, and is learning new things. This company is much smaller, so his range of responsibilities has broadened considerably, but he is enjoying the challenge. We had lunch with Dad once a week this summer, and he will be doing drop offs for this school year (HALLELUJAH!). And just last week we went over to the house of one of the guys Husband works most closely with for swimming and a cookout. It was great fun! God has surely worked things together for good.

Even the Two-Year-Old Gets It

Last week, Sister and I stole an hour together. (And I use the word "stole" literally...we ditched the boys and sneaked out of the house.) We headed out, she in the stroller and I pushing her, trying to psych myself up for an ambitious FOUR miles in one hour. (Didn't happen, BTW.) About two minutes into our walk, Lucy stops me and says, "Mommy, it's time to pray."

"Huh?" I say. My mind is not on her. I've been pretty preoccupied lately with all the happenings that have victimized African Americans and homosexuals in the news lately. Maybe it's on the state of our nation, the state of the church, the seeming split of custom and culture, and people on their freaking high horses about how people should or shouldn't be living their lives. I have been reading just about everything I can get my ehands on and my mind is in overdrive. "What, baby?"

"A siren, Mommy. Let's pray."

Brief back-story: every time I hear a siren, I pray. I started doing this when I was in college. I thank God for people whose job it is to respond when people call for help, I ask him to give them speed and wisdom, and I pray for those who are in trouble. When I had kids, I started doing it out loud with them.

As we were walking, I didn't even HEAR the siren. But my TWO-YEAR-OLD did! And she responded with prayer. Cue the mommy heart-swell. Pat yourself on the back, Mom. You have this spiritual guidance thing DOWN. Wait - let's take it a step further.

"Excellent thought, Sister. Why don't YOU pray?" That's right. Let's give her some experience with independent prayer right after it was her idea. That will really teach her. Yep. She will be a regular prayer DIVA.

"Okay," she says, and I stoop a little to be sure to catch what she says, because unlike my son, who tends to say the same basic thing every time, Lucy is a pray-by-the-seat-of-your-pants sort of girl. And so she begins:

"Dear Jesus, please take care of my people. They are in trouble."

She didn't stop there. She rambled on and on in her adorable and utterly indecipherable two-year-old-tongue. But I stopped there. MY PEOPLE. I was stuck on her word choice - not "the people" or "those people" - MY PEOPLE. I thought about how beautiful it is to think of total strangers as MY PEOPLE. I thought about how perfect and innocent and genuine and REAL her compassion was. These people are strangers, but not to her. They are HER PEOPLE. She really IS a prayer diva! (wink wink)

In the days that followed, I was mindful - almost haunted by this phrase MY PEOPLE. As I read story after story, opinion after opinion, angry blogger after angry blogger, hurt soul after hurt soul, it was almost like God was whispering MY PEOPLE to me over and over and over again.

The thing is, Jesus wasn't vague about what He wanted from His followers. In fact, someone asked Him point blank:

“Teacher, which command in God’s Law is the most important?”
Jesus said, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence.’ This is the most important, the first on any list. But there is a second to set alongside it: ‘Love others as well as you love yourself.'
 - Matthew 22:36-38 (MSG)

And just a few chapters later, He says this:

"'I was hungry and you fed me,
I was thirsty and you gave me a drink,
I was homeless and you gave me a room,
I was shivering and you gave me clothes,
I was sick and you stopped to visit,
I was in prison and you came to me.’

“Then those ‘sheep’ are going to say, ‘Master, what are you talking about? When did we ever see you hungry and feed you, thirsty and give you a drink? And when did we ever see you sick or in prison and come to you?’ Then the King will say, ‘I’m telling the solemn truth: Whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me—you did it to me.’ - Matthew 25:26-40 (emphasis mine)

Love me. Love MY PEOPLE. It's not complicated.
Even the two-year-old gets it.
Thirty-one-year-old, learn from her. Stop thinking. Stop philosophizing. Stop rationalizing. Stop complicating.

Start
loving.

Psalms & Proverbs

One of my personal goals for 2015 was to read the Bible every single day. I didn't really want to attempt a "Read the Bible in a Year" plan because I've tried those in the past and not had a lot of success. I start off really gung ho and Genesis is a really interesting book. So is Exodous. Right around the third chapter of Leviticus, my mind starts to wander, and you can pretty much forget Numbers. By Deuteronomy, I've completely abandoned the quest.

So instead, I decided to try to read whole books, a little at a time. I found study using the YouVersion app (PS - this is the GREATEST. APP. EVER.) of the entire books of Psalms and Proverbs in 30 days. I Facebooked a bunch of my friends from church to see if anybody wanted to go through the study with me in the month of January. Several did, so we started on January 1. And it was awesome. I've never read these two books together, but doing so was a nice way to revisit familiar texts. When the study ended, I knew I needed to do another. After browsing the plans, I found one that took the reader through all four of the Gospels in 30 days. I notified my group, and we set a course to read all four Gospels in the month of February. We've been meeting on Sunday mornings in between services to discuss, and now it looks like we may be offering a similar study as a Connect Group this summer. That has me really excited, because I love the idea of doing a complete study on the Bible, rather than marriage, or finances. That's not to say that studies on marriage and finances are not extremely valuable, I just like the idea of digging into and reading the Bible as a whole text. It also keeps my task-oriented mind focused with a to-do list!

Perspectives Kick-Off!

I can probably pinpoint about five monumental markers that have shaped my faith. Reading certain books, attending certain events, specific relationships with specific people at specific times in my life.

And taking Perspectives.

Perspectives is a course that examines the worldwide Christian movement from historical, biblical, strategic, and cultural perspectives. At least, that's the tagline. The truth is that Perspectives is a game-changer. I know this because I experienced it when I took it in college. So when Perspectives approached WHC about hosting the class, Grant contacted me to see if I'd be interested in helping.

Um....YES!

Last night was our first class and it was uh-MAY-zing. Nearly 100 people were in attendance (including not one, but TWO former students!) and Sean Cooper of The Traveling Team did our first lesson.

 

I had forgotten that in the first lesson they drive home the fact that the Bible is ONE story. It's often seen as a multitude of stores that involve God, but the truth is, it has a plot structure complete with all the elements of plot. It has a main character and, guess what? I'm not the main character. We are not the main character. HUMANITY is not the main character. GOD is. And when we take verses like Psalm 46:10:

We put the first half on bumper stickers and coffee mugs and home decor. We leave out the last part, why? BECAUSE WE AREN'T IN IT. The truth is, God's heart is for the nations. Not just Westerners. Not just Americans. Not just republicans/democrats. Not just the righteous. Not just the wealthy. ALL THE EARTH. There was so much good MEAT to everything he said. After the first half, my notes looked like this:

I had to get more paper. I didn't look at the clock once. I was writing nearly as fast as he was talking. Things like:

• The Old Testament tells the story Jesus completes and declares the promise Jesus fulfills.
• God didn't give us the "great commission" in Matthew 28:19-20. He gave it to us in Mark 16:15, Luke 24:47, John 20:21, Acts 1:8 - there are over 1500 references in the Bible to the "great commission."
• Every epistle is a fulfillment of Genesis 12 - Corinth. Galatia. Ephesus. Philippi. Colossae. Thessalonica.
• Jesus never traveled more than 90 miles from his hometown, yet he reached Samaritans, Canaanites, Centurions, Gentiles, Gadarenes, Romans, etc.

When two hours were up, I couldn't believe it. It was SO GOOD. I went straight home and filled Rick in - I talked as fast as I could because I was afraid something important was going to slip out of my head before I could tell it to him.

I am so excited about next week!

Book: Carry On, Warrior

Carry on, Warrior: Thoughts on Life Unarmed

by Glennon Doyle Melton

Length: 266 pages

Format: Hardback
Price: Free - checked out from the public library

How I heard about it: from Jolie's review and Lindsey's review

NOTE: I was unsure exactly what format to follow for this book review, since it is a non-fiction book.  So I went back through my book archives to find the last non-fiction book I read and see how I did that one. IN THE GOING ON THREE YEARS I HAVE HAD THIS BLOG, I HAVE NOT ONCE WRITTEN A REVIEW ON A NON-FICTION BOOK. AND SINCE I REVIEW EVERY BOOK I READ, GOOD OR BAD, IT FOLLOWS THAT I HAVE NOT READ A SINGLE NON-FICTION BOOK IN NEARLY THREE YEARS!  I know - pathetic.  Please don't tell anyone that I am a READING TEACHER.

Premise: This book is a memoir of the life of 30-something Glennon Doyle Melton. As a recovering bulimic, alcoholic, and drug user, she has seen her fair share of yuck.  She addresses friendship, idiocy, heartache, faith, love, and nearly everything in between with truth and authenticity. And a fair amount of snark.

My thoughts: Given that this is my first non-fiction book in THREE YEARS (probably longer), and that I wasn't sure how to format this review, I asked Lindsey if I could please copy her format, which is where she picks favorite quotes and comments on them. She graciously consented. So that's what I'm going to do, complete with citations so that I practice what I preach at my seventh graders.

"Marriage is hard and holy work" (7).

I liked this phrase because I have many times heard marriage referred to as "hard work" but never "holy." Just to be clear, I looked up the definition of the word.  Holy is "having a spiritually pure quality."  I like that.

 "The only constant family rule is that everyone has to keep showing up" (83).

This and the section preceding it spoke to me because lately, I've been seriously considering not showing up in a couple of areas.  It's what happens when all the fight goes out of me weakness wins, which seems to be happening more frequently instead of less.  But really, showing up is half the battle.  Keep showing up.

"If I seem noncompetitive, if I seem as if I don't care if I'm the 'best' parent or housekeeper or dresser or whathaveyou, it's not because I don't care about being important [...] Why would I care about competing in any other category when I am already a child of God? Why would I argue over a penny when I have already won the lottery?" (113).

The truth is, I care about being important. I want my husband to think I am the best mother. I want my mother-in-law to think I am the best housekeeper.  I want everyone to think I have it all put together and mastered and down pat, because the truth is that I have NOTHING together and mastered and down pat, but if I look like I do, maybe they will think it's true. Why do I care about what others think? I don't know. I read this and wished I could feel this way all the time. I'm going to try thinking of it this way, because with an eternal perspective like this, it's hard to believe that any of that is of any importance at all.

"Sounds a lot like the Psalms, doesn't it?" (203).  (She is speaking as Jesus to the Christians who are badmouthing rap music.)

This just made me giggle. I personally HATE rap music (even that statement - "rap music" sounds like an oxymoron), but it's for snooty musical reasons, not snooty, religious ones.  I love this point because she was saying that rap is often an expression of confusion, suffering, and angst.  Why yes, yes it DOES sound an awful lot like Psalms!

"I'm not sure that being offended is a luxury that people who've been commanded to love each other can enjoy" (203).

This is something God has been working with me on for maybe ever. I am not good at letting things roll off.  I try, but as it turns out, I am rather sticky.  But here's where I think I am beginning to get on the right track: I understand that I can't simply chalk it up to "Well, that's just who I am. I'm sensitive." Um, no, I am indulging in the luxury of being offended. I NEED TO CHAAAAAAAAAAANGE.  I need to take a bath in some spiritual Goo-Gone and put on the garment of love.  Repeating this statement to myself is a good start. I feel like tattooing it on the back of my hand so I can see it many, many times each day.  Yes.  Peeling off layers of sticky.

"...she's more of an 'ahh, there you are' person than a 'HEY! Here I am!' person" (209). (speaking of a friend)

Those are my favorite kind of people. Wait - those are everyone's favorite kind of people.  And for good reason.

"Because there are things we should do, regardless of whether they are our favorite 'things' or not, because they help us grow and rest and connect with other people" (216).

Preach IT. Like stopping in the grocery store when I am running late and both my kids are screaming and all I want to do is get out of there as soon as possible but I see someone I know from the other end of the aisle and I know I should say hi but I don't want to.  Yep - like that.

And my favorite quote, which was stated many, many times throughout the book:

"Life is hard. But I have found that I can do hard things."

I can do hard things. I can do hard things. I can do hard things.  And if I can do hard ones, I can do medium ones, and certainly easy ones!  What CAN'T I do?  Which reminds me of Philippians 4:13, which I memorized as a child: "I can do all things through Him who gives me strength."  Yes. I can do.

My take: 9.5 out of 10 (scale here)
Overall, I loved this book.  There were moments where I had to say, "I don't agree with this AT ALL." Like when she states that God is "in" all people.  I believe that was true in the beginning, like, the Garden-of-Eden-beginning, but humanity lost the privilege of intimacy with God when it chose the apple.  Our nature is sinful, not divine.  God had to make a way for rightness with Himself through Jesus, and THAT is where God enters into humanity.  There were moments where I was conflicted - very tempted to believe what she was saying, even though I felt it was in direct contradiction to what I believe to be true, like whether to believe ALL of the Bible. But mostly, I felt like she was speaking directly to me, to my heart, to my life, to my soul.  And it was EXACTLY what I needed in this, to use her term, "brutiful" phase of my life.

Upward - Reflection

This year, I coached Upward basketball, just like I did two years ago.  Only this year, I also added "Commissioner" to my title.

And it was AWESOME.  I still don't know anything about basketball.  I still forgot to send emails, left names off the list of people I DID manage to send emails to, had to send people running in all directions to get stuff I forgot, and have a LONG list of things I will do differently next time.  But, just as in teaching, it's really not about all the details, it's about the kids.

And Lindsey and I had one GREAT group of kids.  But before I start on the kids, I need to brag on Lindsey.  She is such an awesome basketball coach.  She was patient, kind, and able to give the kids actual basketball instruction at the tender ages of 4, 5, and 6.  And, she somehow kept track in her head of how the kids did each game.  I told her I was thinking of carrying a clipboard and writing down every time a kid passed or took a shot, and then she rattled off the names of everyone who passed and took a shot.  Whaaaaaat?  How does she do that?

We had eight boys and one feisty girl.  I mean it when I say feisty - she was all over that ball and by far the most aggressive player on our team.  We had one adorable 4-year-old who was just so stinking cute, even though he couldn't dribble or shoot.  I could tell several stories about these kids, but I'll limit myself to just this one...Joey.  I'll call him that just so I don't break any confidentiality codes.  We had heard ahead of time that Joey was kind of a pain - didn't listen, wouldn't follow directions, etc, and while he never misbehaved, it was clear he wasn't into basketball.  He was glad when he got to sit on the bench, always wanted to head for the water fountain, and never really did much with the ball when he had it.  In short, he reminded me of what I would have been like if I had played basketball at his age.

At devotion time, we learned about three virtues over the course of the season - honesty, patience, and kindness.  Since music is how I best learn, I taught the kids a silly song about the fruits of the spirit based on Galatians 5:22 (the video version is slightly different than what I taught them, but you get the idea).  As the kids were preparing for Awards night on Sunday, our very last meeting of the season, the director, killing time before it was our turn to go down to the gym, asked if anyone wanted to come up and sing a song.  Joey's hand SHOT into the air.  Bryan called him up, and that boy sang the ENTIRE song into the microphone. With gusto.  And that's a lot of words for a little kindergartner.  And when he was done, he literally JUMPED into my arms and squeezed tight.  I wish I could post the video I got of him singing.  It was adorable, and it made me tear up, thinking and hoping that this song might be something he remembers after he has forgotten where the baseline is, or how to bounce pass, or to keep his elbows down when he shoots.  Because Upward isn't just about basketball - it's about loving kids, and showing them that Jesus loves them, too.

Looking forward to next year.

Upward Devotions

This year, I have been coaching and comissioning for Upward Basketball at our church.  (More on that later, as the season wraps up.) I have been in charge of written devotionals, and while I have had to write three, I've been able to tap into the enormous writing talent that resides at Western Hills for most of them.  Today's, however, I wrote myself.  This week's verse is probably the most popular in the New Testament - maybe the whole Bible, and that's the essential Gospel - John 3:16.  I thought I would share:

Being a parent is the most amazing job I have ever had, and somehow, I really had no idea what I was getting into when it happened.  I just remember holding those beautiful newborn babies in my arms and thinking, “It can’t get much better than this.”  I know you know the feeling.  Our children are our most priceless and precious gifts.

Today in their huddles, your children are learning about John 3:16, one of the most popular verses in the New Testament: “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”  As a parent, the phrase “gave his one and only son” sticks out like it never did before I had children.  Can you imagine giving up your own child?  And doing it willingly?  It’s incredible to believe that God, the Master and Creator of the universe, loved wretched, sinful mankind enough to give his one and only son so that we might choose to live in right relationship with him. We’ve all messed up.  None of us are deserving of grace.  None of us are worthy of God’s love and forgiveness.  “But God demonstrated his great love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).  God invites us into right relationship with himself by giving up his one and only son.  What an incredible sacrifice.  And it’s available for all, free for the taking.  All we need is faith.

My 4-year-old loves to jump off the top step into my husband’s arms.  I cringe because we have steep steps and the kid could fall and seriously hurt himself, but he loves it and so does his daddy.  I think faith is like this.  God is the dad and we are the kids jumping off the top of the stairs.  The older we get, the more we realize that there is danger associated with this jump.  What if he doesn’t catch me?  What if I fall?  What if, what if, what if.  The Bible tells us to have faith like a child, who doesn’t think about the “what ifs.”  He just trusts.

He just jumps.

Then I invited people to come jump with us at WH, where jumping is our mission. :)

12 Days of Reflection - #12 Let. It. Go.

As a result of my excellent memory, my overly-analytical nature, and my many insecurities, I often find it difficult to let things go.  This is utterly baffling to my husband.  He is constantly telling me to "let it go."  I've come to really really hate this expression.  Over the years, I have tried various forms of "letting it go" only to end up more hurt and frustrated than I was when I started.  I feel like me and "letting it go" are in an ongoing wrestling match.

As you may have guessed, I have some specific issues - some certain things I just can't seem to overcome.  And why?  Why do I feel this need to hold on to anger? To hurts? To fears?  These are the things that destroy, not the things that build up.  These are barriers, roadblocks, poison to relationships, family, the heart.  My heart.

This revelation has taken several years.  (I've mentioned my tendency to be slow on the uptake...this is a prime example.)  It's taken my husband's countless, loving reminders.  It's taken friends like Kristin and Lindsey who handle similar situations with forgiveness, grace, and love, refusing to let things, whether big or small, hold them back.  It's taken sermon after sermon after sermon about this plank in my eye for me to recognize that it is, indeed, a plank in my eye.  A massive barrier between me and what's right.  And I've tried to overcome it - BELIEVE ME, I have tried.  But my tactics have always been poor.  Until about a month ago.

I can't really explain this well without giving details, so I'll just say this: up until then, my approach has been to try doing things.  Do this, do that, do this again, do that again.  And when it wouldn't work, I'd try it again.  And again.  And again.  It was incredibly wearing and SO frustrating because it was yielding absolutely zero in the way of results.  And it was leaving me emotionally exhausted.  And then, one day, there was what we in education like to call "a light bulb" or an "ah-hah!" moment.  It's that moment when the kid gets it.  And I realized my problem.  It was like I was back in high school and hacking away at the same stupid math problem and getting the wrong answer every single stinking time.  And then Mrs. Lane just sits down and says, "try this" and it's like the heavens open and angels descend with the "Hallelujah Chorus" loud on their lips.  I GET IT.

The simple answer? I cannot do.  I must choose.

I have to decide to let it go.  No amount of doing is ever going to make things right.  I could do until the end of time and nothing will change until I choose to
Let.
It.
Go.

I took a moment to choose to let it go.  But I am finding it is not a one-time decision.  Every time anger and resentment rear their ugly heads (which seems to happen a lot over the holidays), I have to choose to let it go.  Because the issue is with my heart - an internal struggle that could never be won externally, like I had been fighting it.

And in realizing this, I can't help but draw this parallel; we can do our entire lives and never be worthy of God's grace.  We could feed every poor person, house every homeless person, give away every dime we possess, learn all there is to know about God and never ever earn God's favor.  Because God's favor cannot be earned.  We are too flawed.  Too damaged.  Too in need of redemption.  We don't have an external issue - we have an internal issue.  But God loved us enough to not let us stay that way.  So he sent his Son to restore us.  To change us.  To right us.

But we must choose.

Christmas really is the most wonderful time of the year - a time to remember, and be forever thankful, that Perfect God loved sinful man enough to give us the Gift of His Son and then allow us the choice to confess and believe, or to go on living life as if
what
we
do
matters.