Wasn't It Easier | Post 19

"Wasn't it easier in your lunchbox days?

Always a bigger bed to crawl into?

Wasn't it beautiful when you believed in everything?

Wasn't it easier in your firefly-catchin' days?

When everything out of reach,

someone bigger brought down to you?

Wasn't it beautiful runnin' wild 'til you fell asleep

Before the monsters caught up to you?"

t.swizzle // innocent

who can be sad when they see a snowman made out of salad?

I distinctly remember specific conversations with either my parents or other adults where they said "Don't be in a hurry to grow up.  It happens too fast.  Being an adult is hard."   It didn't seem like being an adult could be that hard.  I mean, sure, I knew adults had to make decisions and "deal with money" and make dinner.  But to be honest, I hungered to make my own decisions.  Maybe that's part of why I was fond of constantly playing Barbies/dolls.  I could make the rules and plans for them and I could make them "obey" my rules and "do" my plans.  Being an adult seemed like Big Real Dollhouse.  You get to choose what to spend money on!  And you have more than $2.51 in change in a little glass jar!  You get to go where you want!  And eat extra dessert! AND.  If you don't like mushrooms, you can choose not to make them with dinner!  And don't get me started on the jewelry and make-up and beautiful shoes adults get to wear.  Bras seem weird, but then again, talking on the phone whenever you'd like sounds divine.

Though I was "tried" (moved often, had people close to me die, watch my mom suffer through cancer, had much responsibility, etc) I "became an adult" when I was 19.  I had hurt before that, and I had cried and struggled before that.  But even babies hurt and cry and struggle.  I graduated - no, not highschool... I did that when I was 17 - I moved from one "life grade level" to another.  Innocent by Taylor Swift was playing while straightening up this afternoon.   I love all the lines I posted up top.   "Wasn't it easier when there was a bigger bed to crawl into?"  

When I was 14 my parents announced "Mom is very sick.  She has breast cancer."  I cried all day.  I felt tired at bedtime, but laying in my room all by myself I couldn't sleep.  I became increasingly forlorn the longer I was awake.  Before long I was shaking and weeping into my pillows.  Instincts kicked in.  When you're alone and afraid at night, go get mom and dad.  I ran up to their room.  They were sleeping.  I crawled into the foot of the bed and they stirred.  They didn't tell me to move.  They didn't ask if I was okay.  They knew how I was.  Mom patted my arm and said "Good night."  And all of a sudden, it was a good night.  And I could sleep now.  I felt better.

But when I was 19 and my world was rocked like it never had been before or has been since, and I had a similar night.  I, dressed head to toe in shoes, socks, jacket, scarf, jewelry, bobby pins... eveything, lay in bed with my mom.  She held her arm around me.  And it didn't make it feel better.  I still couldn't sleep.  It didn't "help."  I didn' feel any better - at all.  It was not a good night.  It was a bad night.  And it was the beginning of the end of "believing in everything!"  All of a sudden - now that I knew what even a teaspoon dose of real pain could feel like - I saw pain everywhere.  I didn't see wonder everywhere.   This was a first for me.   And I shuddered and tried to block out the stories I was now aware of - babies shockingly dying in their sleep, bodies screaming in broken pain (and there was nothing I could do to help), friends turning on friends, parents hurting their own children, car accidents, waves that eat nations.   Does everyone hurt?  Can I back to being a kid?  When will this be over?  Are we there yet? Wait, some people realize all I'm realizing when they are 12? Nine? Four years old?  How cruel!  Even the wonder years are robbed from some?  Man.

That was (is?) the hardest part of growing up for me.  Not just that I had to endure pain, but that I was aware of pain in a way children just are not.  Being an adult is not Big Real Dollhouse.  Doll's don't get hurt - even when their heads pop off.  And they don't have hearts.   

I, at times, wish I could "speak like a child, think like a child, reason like a child."  I'd be the first to announce "God intends for us to rest in Him, our Father!  We are His children!  Come to His arms!"   I believe in the beauty and eagerness a child sees.  I love how easily children laugh.  Play.  Share thoughts.  But today is one of those days where I especially realize that I am not four and a half.   Painful marriages.  Sudden tragedies.  Disappointing news... again.   Cancer tests... again.  Sick people, everywhere.  The flu.  Mental illness.  Emotional illness.  Brain illness.  Miscarriages.  Anniversaries of death.  Comas.  Human betrayal.  Reality.  And it's not my own pain or story today, but I love these people and it's their pain, and I can't help but hurt too.  In a little way, even.

I read the end of Job.  We know the tale.  God allowed him to lose all his "wordly good."  His children, his wealth, his career, his health.  His friends turned on him, his wife was anything but comforting, he wanted to die himself.  What was the point?  It would have been better to never have been born than have to LIVE and LOSE!  I would have rather never experienced the joys if that meant that I could have never felt this pain! WHY GOD!  Why would you do this to me? ANSWER ME! WHY?

God answered him.  And came to him.  And was always with him.  God helped him.  And He restored him.  Real friends came back, and they ate together.  They brought with them sympathy and comfort.  The Lord gave.   Safety and hope returned.  Eventually he had children again.  His first daughter was named Jemimah.  What a waterfall of joy she must have been.  Naive, beautiful, needy and full of love for her bruised-but-renewed father.  Wonder returned. Jemimah means "the bird of peace, or the bird of new beginning, bright as day."

So, here's to the "Jemimahs" today.  The content, REAL, hopeful thing that flies in and makes a difference.  The ways God chooses to "deliver" a "Jemimah" for us.  The little Jemimahs and the big Jemimahs.  The bright days that will come.  The promises of good, the assurance of complete, untangled, easy joy.  The reminders of happiness, miracles and even delightful amazement in this thorny place.  The new beginnings.  The things you stopped believing could even happen.  The things you stopped even wishing for.  Tasting again.  Sleeping well again. The mirror is dim and sometimes even broken now, but we will see face-to-face.  Faith, hope and love do live.  Immanuel is with us.  These words are trustworthy and true!  There is comfort in the waste places, deserts turn into gardens, there is a voice of gladness in the song - even if it's a melody sung in the night.  God loves His humans - and God likes us too. Thank you, Lord, for hope.  For adult minds and hearts to "understand" pain and to understand real happiness.  Thank you for time.  Thank you for words.  Thank you for not making us like machines, who can't feel and who only deteriorate, but rather we only become more "alive" and "more real"  ("Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all...and once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always.”) and more perfect with every passing day.  Thank you that we are dynamic.  Thank you for questions.  Thank you for the monsters and the heroes.  Thank you for telling an interesting and good story (and thank you that stories don't end in the middle).   Thank you that it "used to be easier" and for memories.  Thank you for comfort food.  Thank you for comfort truth.  Thank you for new beginnings.  Thank you for Jemimah.

"Quiet Times" + Bacon | Post 16

Let's get this straight...

The Lord has not called us to storm the walls or conquer the land. 

*HE* has routed the enemy, beheaded the oppressor, liberated a people too vast to count, and sent *US* in with the good news. 

We're the ones throwing aside the unlocked gates and announcing in German prison-camps that the Allies have landed and won the day." 

D.Shorey

[Though I've been a Christian for 20 years, the last three years have been a whirlwind of re-learning about God, His grace, and my faith. Caleb has gone through a similar transformation the last two years I've wanted to start writing and, yes, sharing on the internet some 're-learned lessons.' These things really are the dearest truths to me and I am starting to find myself unable to keep from sharing.]

My church and church-community placed great emphasis on "quiet times" or "times with the Lord" while I was growing up. Quiet-times or devotions were (or, are!) a time of Bible-reading, meditation and memorization, praying, and journaling - or some combination of those things (for some reason 30 minutes seemed to be the ideal minimum time to shoot for, but anytime was better than no time.), essentially a time of meeting alone and quietly with God.  During this time, I was a Christian with genuine repentance and Holy Spirit work in me, but I was a goody-two-shoes, I was an "elder son" not a "younger prodigal son,"and nearly every time I interacted with a group of adults I was praised for various character qualities I possessed. And I lived for that. I knew the lines, I knew how to search my heart, how to ask questions, how to worship "whole-heartedly", how to "be humble," I was an eager "servant" and I knew how to impress anyone. I could also point out the "bad kids" in any crowd. Their immodesty and flirtatiousness and over-all worldliness (eye-liner and jeans that hug your rump, anyone?) gave them away.

So, back to quiet-times. I remember Sunday mornings, bible classes, small group discussions, womens meetings, and youth meeting main points circling around testimony, example, illustration, challenges, specific passages and exhortation to be in the Word of God, daily, alone and preferably in the morning (I remember specific times hearing that it would be prideful to think you needed the newspaper, breakfast, internet, sleep, la-ti-da more than you needed God. Even in elementary school I made a "rule" for myself to not look at the beautiful, colorful Sunday comics until after church so that I could "put God first.") If I could sum up my thinking and interpretation of what I was taught at church all those years, it would be 1) The Gospel (which condensed to five words was "Christ died for my sins.") and 2) to continue in deeper understanding and personal sanctification of The Gospel, you need to be consistently in The Word of God - especially through quiet times. And it's even better if you have a solid plan for Bible-reading, and also a quiet-time basket nearby so you can easily get to everything you need without roaming around gathering it - efficient!

**Disclaimer: I'll be careful enough to add that this might not have been what was being preached, or at least not as "much" as I thought it was. I had - still do - a tendency to get an idea in my head, and hold onto it fiercely. If I heard a message or series or two about personal devotions, and I began to apply it well, I would have looked in any other message or setting for that "point" to be made so I could check it off and be all "Yuuup! Taking care of that! I so good."**

Another quick note: You might not think that what I've described is that bad. Isn't the Bible - the Word of the Living God, sharper than a two-edged sword - one of the greatest gifts He's given to humanity? And isn't it one of the best ways to learn more about Him? Shouldn't we be learning more of Him, and reflecting on His truth daily? Shouldn't we be praying constantly? What is better than starting a day in conversation with your Father - praising Him, asking for Him to do mighty things, humbling yourself before Him? I hear you. And we'll discuss in a moment. Stay with me.

I've had a number of conversations with various friends who have talked about taking a season of not reading the Bible, and how spiritually beneficial to them it's been. After these talks I realized how much I've changed that I'm perfectly comfortable with my friends not "having consistent quiet times" and I feel no need to push them to begin this *practice* as soon as possible. Even looking at my own life I see a very different pattern of "alone time with the Lord" than I did in my teenage years. My teenage years were far more impressive.  I really didn't have this topic on my heart to write about, but then I came across a blog post that triggered my concern with heavy emphasis on quiet times.

Stephen Altrogge, from The Blazing Center*, has recently written a handful of blog posts directed at mothers. For the most part, I loved his call for mothers to chill-out, stop stressing over the small things and to enjoy the crazy ride. But here's what Stephen said that caused me to stiffen:

Your job description is as follows: Love God. This simply means finding some time during the day to meet with the Lord. It doesn’t have to be before all the kids are awake. It doesn’t have to be in the pre-dawn stillness. Your job is to love God. How you make that happen can look a million different ways.
Your job as a mom is to first and foremost, love God with all your heart. Run hard after him. Pursue holiness and godliness. Read the Bible and pray your heart out.

Why do I get a little punchy and red reading something like that? Why do I so disagree with the mindset I held of "the spiritual discipline: quiet time" for most of my life?

To begin, "loving God" or "prioritizing the gospel" is NOT a first-thing-you-do-in-your-day-top-of-the-checklist-activity. It's not something to be done. It's who you are. I find it very misleading to put "love God" as the priority over "loving your husband." Loving God IS loving your husband! Loving God IS loving your children.  And... loving your husband and children is loving God!  Loving God is NOT (necessarily) doing the "God-things" like Bible-time, praying, and attending church meetings.  Phaaaariiiiseeeessss (dun dun dun duuun).

 Loving God is (also) eating food that thoroughly blesses you, loving God is talking with your friend and genuinely enjoying the conversation, loving God is talking with a friend who annoys you so much but you're willing to engage her because you love her, even though you don't exactly like her. Loving God is getting excited about a sweet deal on those shoes you've been eyeing, loving God is staying in bed all morning with your diapered kids because they just want to be with you a little longer, loving God is calling your husband to tell him about the funny thing that just happened on your walk. Loving God is having a dance-party to Taylor Swift in the car, while little faces glow, smile and bounce along in the backseat, loving God is singing hymns while you're sweeping, loving God is getting excited about making your house a home - however it is that you do that.  Loving God is paying the bills, going grocery shopping, decorating for Christmas, spring-cleaning, going to the pool and not getting very much sleep because your somebody needs you - a lot - in the night. Loving God is not about getting things done, but resting in what He has done. It's about really listening to what someone is saying - if that someone is two years old, or 87 years old. And not just listening, but caring about their words to you. It's about happily letting your schedule get interrupted or your to-do list left unfinished, because your husband forgot ____ and he needs you to run down to his office, with all the children, and bring it to him. It's about eating, laughing, rejoicing, anticipating, sharing, giving, enjoying, praising, receiving and delighting - and doing those things with your husband, children, family and best friends? Even better. And living this way so contagiously and constantly that strangers and unbelievers are like moths to a nightlight? Even even better.

In Christ, and with the right motives for both, the "life-things" like eating and playing and the "God-things" like prayer or corporate worship (or quiet times) are equally pleasing to Him. Why? Because God doesn't want us to become better people. He doesn't ask us to grow, change or sanctify ourselves (or, gracious, to "bear our own fruit"). He doesn't desire for us to work harder at sinning less. He isn't asking us to sacrifice for Him. He wants us to come. Come! He wants to give us every good thing. He simply asks us to receive it and enjoy it. Receive this bacon and eggs this morning as a good thing from God. Receive this boxed mac&cheese as a gift to you, mom, because your children don't care if it's blue box Kraft or homemade. Receive your child sleeping in this morning as a chance to do something you'd enjoy - sleeping in longer yourself, getting a head-start on a project, taking an uninterrupted shower, blow-drying your hair, reading that new book you bought, listening to music alone, praying. Receive it! Receive the gift of your husband! Receive the gift of your children! Receive the gift of your friends! Receive the gift of humor, food, sports and beautiful things! Receive the gift of My written Word! Enjoy it, and remember that I gave it to you because I love you. Receive your salvation - take it! Have it! I want you to know how much I love you, and how final and complete and sure your standing with Me is. You are free from having to worry about your sin and your holiness. Free! I've made you a promise, and I will keep it. Believe that I do only good for you. Believe that I can do it all on My own. Believe that I am able and eager to complete what I have started. Want my gifts. Want the good things I have for you. Want Me.  Delight in any and all things that I give you, and please remember that I wanted you to be delighted by them.  Share Me. Love Me. Enjoy Me.  I quite enjoy and love you.

"Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.’" Matthew 9:13

I think the best way to "Love God" or "prioritize the gospel" is by being delighted, grateful and at rest. I disagree that loving God "simply means finding some time during the day to meet with Him." In fact, I think that's a false gospel.

Loving God isn't a "priority" we have. It's our new names, it's our DNA. I had it wrong. I thought that faithfully having quiet-times was loving God. Sadly, in my life and in my heart, it was primarily loving myself. It was my form of "praying publicly in the streets." I did it right, and yet I really didn't enjoy God. I performed for God. And when it came to other people? I required sacrifice, not mercy. I tied burdens on the backs of other people... and was then honored for it. Because it really did look good. It's been like living in an alternate universe to discover that my faithful, obedient, consistent actions do... not... matter. Because my unfaithful, disobedient, unpredictable actions don't matter, either. I'm no longer "in me." I'm in Christ. And His faithful love and obedient perfection counts for something - which means it counts for everything, thank goodness.

"He set His heart upon His people before time began. He spoke His promises, He sent and spent His Son, He resurrects souls through His Spirit, He is unstoppably building His church, His kingdom is an everlasting and extravagant kingdom and WE get the happy role of carrying His purchased, perfect gifts from under the Christmas Tree and placing them in empty hands that will enjoy them." 

Wives, enjoy being a joy to your husband. Moms, enjoy delighting your children. Friends, have fun having fun with friends. It's our happy role, it's how we love God, it's how to "prioritize the gospel."  I made "the Gospel" my God, and "spiritual disciplines" my job.  The way to get more "gospel" was to do my job better.  To do my job better, I needed the gospel.  Now, instead, I'd say: God is my God.  His name is Father, Jesus and Holy.  He is God.  And the way I "get more God" is by grace - by beholding Him, not be "doing" anything.  God + grace.  Not "the gospel" + "quiet times." God and grace.

"We are anxious, not because the task is hard, but because we think the task is ours. When we clear up that nonsense it gets much simpler and happier. My friends, let the celebration begin." D. Shorey

*I enjoy reading Stephen's blog.  I think he's a sharp, good thinker and that he's willing to say bold things and press through babble to find true, good things.  I don't always agree with his posts, but I more and more find myself "amen!"-ing his words.  So don't go bash Blazing Center!  But read it thoughtfully.  Like anything :)

ps. I believe in Bible study and memorization and meditation and journaling and quiet prayer times.  So much.  

Quotes | Post 13

I Wish I Had Fully Understood This While Dating Caleb 

& That All Single Women Believed It Because It's True

“I used to think that finding the right one was about the man having a list of certain qualities. 

If he has them, we'd be compatible and happy. 

Sort of a checkmark system that was a complete failure. 

But I found out that a healthy relationship isn't so much about 

sense of humor or intelligence or attractive-ness. 

It's about avoiding partners with harmful traits and personality types. 

And then it's about being with a good person. 

A good person on his own, and a good person with you. 

Where the space between you feels uncomplicated and happy.

 A good relationship is where things just work. 

They work because, whatever the list of qualities, whatever the reason, 

you happen to be really, really good together.” 

deb caletti - the secret life of prince charming

---

ps.  Happy 49 Days of Sharing A Last Name, Bed and Covenant.  Remember when we were 49 days away?  Seems like years ago.