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.

Public Question | Post 18

"Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now,

 not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, 

work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, 

for it is God who works in you, 

both to will and to work for his good pleasure."

Philippians 2:12-13

As part of the recent discussion + thinking about "the spiritual discipline: quiet time" I wanted to ask for  your thoughts.  After all, "Dialogue is a neglected spiritual discipline. It should be ranked and relished on equal standing with prayer, Bible study, solitude, meditation, and all such timelessly healthy habits. It is shared meditation - with the bracing benefit of extra minds and a slew of thoughts we would have never thought of by ourselves." EGM

I need the help of your mind and thoughts!  What do you think Philippians 2:12-13 means?  What is it saying/teaching/asking/not-saying?  How is it "applied" or "lived out"?  The context surrounding it obviously matters (like any scripture)... so what do you think or believe?

I genuinely, truly want your dialogue in this! Pwetty pwease?

'Quiet Times' + Bacon | Follow-Up | Post 17

"...do not set hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but on God, 

who richly provides us with everything to enjoy. 

Do good! Be rich in good works! Be generous! Ready to share! 

And you will store up treasure for yourself. 

And take hold of that which is truly life."

There was, I thought, a very enjoyable response to my last post.  From texts, twitter, conversation and blog comments, I really loved discussing and thinking more about all these ideas and opinions.  This post was actually in the original post, and I took it all out because it was just really (seriously) too long.  But now I'm going to share it as my "follow-up."  I hope - whether you agree or disagree - that it encourages, "sharpens" and excites you to ponder and talk about these sweet things of our sweet God.  

"Being affectionately desirous of you - being crazy about you! loving you just so stinking much! - we were ready to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves - our things, and our home, and our time, and our stuff, and our food, and our thoughts, and lives -, because you had become very dear to us - you mattered to us, a lot." 1 Thess 2:8

"Devote yourself to every activity, reflection, or enterprise that expands your vision of God, His grace, His gifts, and His gladness. Abandon every discipline, devotion, or duty that offers the Lord a reason to think well of you or gives you a reason to think better of yourself." (Enjoying Grace Ministries)

It's hard to write and share thoughts that could be misinterpreted.  But I think a better way to say that would be "It's hard to write and share, because thoughts can be misinterpreted."  They often are.  If you tell a story to a group of 100 people, you'll definitely find at least two different take-aways on the story.  Likely more.  I don't think it'd be weird if there were 100 different take-aways.  While some may be offended and outraged, others might be blessed and quickened!  While some might be confused and discouraged, others might be bored and annoyed.  And I think that's okay.  I'm glad we all hear the same things, and then process and analyze and care about them differently.

But since my last post about quiet-times is dealing with the holy, beautiful, fierce-some and dazzling Word of God, I want to make sure I'm as clear as I can be.  

I'm not against God's Word.  
I'm not against spending time in God's Word - hourly, daily, weekly and... life-ly!
I'm not against knowing, going back to, meditating on, learning more of, reading, hearing, saying and loving God's Word.
I'm not against "alone" time with God, reading plans, or structure for God's Word.
I'm not against knowing God better through His Word, and enjoying Him more because of His Word.

Not only am I not against those things, I am eagerly for them.  

I am against activity around God's Word being more important than personal relationship with God.
I am against spiritual disciplines (reading the Word, praying, corporate worship, etc) being something better, holier, more honoring to God, more meaningful/important/crucial to your life than "normal" life activities.
I am against doing spiritual disciplines resulting in pleasure with yourself, or not doing spiritual disciplines resulting in guilt with yourself.
I am against proving, performing, going through the motions, pretending, or as Jesus put it, "white washed tomb"-ing.  
I am against trying to impress, appease, delight or win God.
I am against the separation of "the spiritual" and "the material/earthly/non-spiritual." (For example, I would not believe that a pastor has a better/higher calling because his career is involved in spiritual matters while a mechanic only deals with cars.  I think being a pastor is a high calling, and involves spiritual matters.  And I think being a mechanic is a high calling, and involves spiritual matters.  I think praying is a gift and good, spiritual thing and I think eating, laughing, playing, etc is a gift and good, spiritual thing.)
I am against Pharisee-like obedience, discipline, prioritizing, maintenance and review check-ups.  I am for obedience, discipline and prioritizing.  I am also for feet-kissing, perfume-pouring, and weeping.  

"The Pharisee's held it as their central commitment to please God + to pursue His word + to permanently plant and grow these passions in their children, from generation to generation. You can only imagine their bewilderment when they were bluntly told by Jesus over and over again that their scrupulous theology and tireless activity could actually be what was exiling them from the fellowship and family of the God that they were pursuing." (Generations of Grace)

I coach middle school girls basketball at a Christian school.  We represent a Christian school and the Christian God when we play. Most of the girls are friends outside of basketball.  They go to class together, they see each other on the weekends, the like each other's instagram pictures, they have crushes on the same boys, they like the same pop bands.  They have braces, and are learning how to wear eye-liner and they are wonderful.  We recently had a team discussion.  "Girls, tell me which of these four things is most important.  Number one: to pray before a game.  Number two: to cheer loudly from the bench.  Number three: to sprint and steal the ball.  Number four: to run Detroit the way I've taught you to."  Their hands shot up.  I called on about six or seven of them.  They all said "To pray! Praying!"  Once the whole team was in agreement that, yes, praying was the most important of those four things I asked them "And you're sure that nothing else on that list is as important as praying?"  One lively, sharp girl said "Well, I think praying AND cheering are the same-important.  Because when you're cheering you're encouraging your team and not complaining about not playing and thinking about other people more than yourself." "Wow," I said, "that sounds really important."  They all started chiming in "Yeah, yeah! Praying and encouraging are tied."  Until another sweet soul said "But! If you're sprinting it means you're working really hard and being diligent! And I think that's important."  At this point they caught on.  Someone else added "And if we run Detroit right, it means we were obeying you and paying attention and being respectful and using our minds."

Right.  I don't want my little girls to think that the way to "play like a Christian" is to pray before games, have team talks about God, and only listen to worship songs on the bus rides.  I want them to know that all that we do, we do "Christian."  I don't want them to think "First we do the Bible/God thing, and then we do the basketball thing."  I want them to know that together we do this life thing, and the Bible-thing and basketbal-thingl is all a part of life.  Sure, we may do good things that other "non-Christian teams" don't do - like pray and discuss the Bible together.  But we'll also do things that many other teams will do - we'll shoot baskets, and learn plays, and have starters, and foul, try to win.  But why we do those things is intrinsically different than why they do them.  It's not one or the other.  It's both.  And it's about the "why."  

To be honest, though I pray with my girls every single event I'm with them, I am personally not comfortable praying with them in public.  We don't gather together at the bench before the game, in front of the other team, in front of the fans and parents, in front of the referees and pray.  I don't want to draw attention to us (and God) by doing "spiritual things."  I don't want the girls to ever feel "better" than other teams, or like they are impressing any pastor/parent/person in the crowd who might be watching.  They should be able to communicate the heart of our team, the love we have for our God, and the difference in "why" we do what we do when they play.  Now, does this mean I would never ever pray in public with my team?  If someone is injured? Or if there is a serious moment where we need to get out of "basketball" and be turned sharply to God?  Of course I would.  But public-praying is not a habit of ours.  And to be honest, it's more important to me at this point that the girls run hard, obey well, encourage loudly and actually treat each other kindly than close their eyes and pray.  It's hard to fake exhausted, determined, work ethic.  Or skilled, tried and excellent execution.  Or squealing, loud, shared joy.  It's easy to fake praying.  (And, again, I LOVE prayer.  It's WONDERFUL! Pray more, everyone! Don't hear what I'm not saying.)

And I think the same goes for my life.  I don't want to come before The Father with a tender, listening heart during Bible/God time, and then go off and do my work time.  I want a tender, listening heart wherever I am.  I want to enjoy reading my Bible, and running a basketball practice, and making beautiful pictures, and eating frozen yogurt.  All those things can be done with great gratitude and joy in God, and all of them can be very stingy and hallow.  The way to true growth and joy is through beholding God, knowing Him and enjoying all He is and has.  The Bible + spiritual disciplines are an excellent way to know Him.  There are some other excellent ways to know Him, too.

"There is nothing better for a person than that you... eat your bread with joy, and drink your wine with a merry heart, for God has already approved what you do! Let your garments be always white! Let not oil be lacking on your head!  Enjoy life with the wife whom you love, all the days of your vain life... because that is your portion in life!"  "The Lord is my portion and my cup."

"My childhood was indisputably marked with predictable (even if abnormal) 'devotional' activities. Warm prayers that sent us off to school, lingering meals with missionaries or friends or neighbors, non-formulaic prayers of gratitude that opened most meals, hymn-sings that spontaneously erupted on the majority of car-rides of a half hour or more, and such things were a 'predictable' part of life - so predictable that they weren't programmed. They were life.There was no 'time of day' when we would reference Scripture, engage prayer, sing songs, or dialogue through our Christian world-view - because...well...there were no times of day when these were odd or out of place.This is not a critique of thoughtful devotional methods that faithful believers engage to build truth and faith into their  lives. My heart aches to share what can be the heart of family faith, not to declare what shouldn't be or must be the habits of family worship or personal devotions.At it's root this is not a discussion about family or personal devotions or worship. It's a discussion about devotion and worship. Above all we are asking what honors our Lord and magnifies our joy in Him (which is what honors Him).Linger with Him because He's amazing. Do nothing to pay the Lord what you owe or make Him happy with you. Pure absurdity. Live everyday because the Lord immeasurably loves you and loudly sings over you with joy." 
(Enjoying Grace Ministries)

I was shocked when I heard this passage unwrapped for the very first time this past March.  You know how rigidly strict and intense the Old Testament law is?  How it was common for fellows to be struck dead when breaking the law?  How there was law after law, rule after rule, seemingly random requirement after seemingly random requirement?  When God gave instruction about tithe, He did so very thoroughly.  And do you know what He said to do if the place to leave your tithe was too far away and you couldn't get it there?  Think about it for a minute.  Do you know what the Old Testament law instructed people who were too far away to "give their money to God" were told to do?  Give their first-fruits to the poor?  Sacrifice it in a fire or altar?  Give it away to someone else? Keep it in a storehouse until you can get it to the Tithe Dropoff?  Trade the offering for money and then bring the money in later?

"And if the way is too long for you, so that you are not able to carry the tithe, when the LORD your God blesses you, because the place is too far from you, which the LORD your God chooses, to set his name there, then you shall turn it into money and bind up the money in your hand and go to the place that the LORD your God chooses and spend the money for whatever you desire—oxen or sheep or wine or strong drink, whatever your appetite craves. And you shall eat there before the LORD your God and rejoice, you and your household!" Dt. 14:24-26

How beautiful.  Take My money, and go pick out whatever you want.  And gather your loved ones around and feast and rejoice.  We would typically consider money we tithe money we give to do God's work.  It allows our churches to practically do the things God gives them to do.  Doesn't that tell so much about the heart of God? That His work is to do us good, for our joy.  To give us gifts and treasures and feasts. 

"Besides being wise, the Preacher also taught the people knowledge, weighing and studying and arranging many proverbs with great care. The Preacher sought to find words of delight, and uprightly he wrote words of truth. The words of the wise are like goads [pokes that propel you to action], and like nails firmly fixed are the collected sayings; they are given by one Shepherd. But, my son, beware of anything beyond these. Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness to the flesh." Ecc 12:12

If the carefully chosen words of delight become more of a study guide for the test you're cramming for, they will lose it's savor.  The wise words should poke, urge and stimulate to action in our life.  We shouldn't just read "there is nothing better for you than to enjoy your meal and be merry with your wine," we should go enjoy our meal and be merry with our wine!  We should realize that the finals have been canceled and summer-break has begun!  It's time to celebrate!  

"... he seemed more united to God in his outward employments and activities, than even when he left them for devotion in private retirement.  His set times of prayer were not different from other times... because his greatest busyness did not divert him from God; for his only business was to love and delight himself in God, *wherever* he might find himself.

He noted that many did not advance in the Christian progress, because they were stuck in penances, and particular exercises. He saw that our sanctification did not depend upon changing our works.  It was lamentable to see how many people mistook the means for the end, addicting themselves to certain works, which they performed very imperfectly!

No, no, the most excellent method he had found of going to God, was that of doing our common life.  It was a great delusion to think that the times of prayer ought to differ from other times; that we should savor and enjoy God's presence more in prayer and than in any sort of business? Woe!

After prayer and devotion,  he still continued with God, praising, enjoying and blessing Him with all his might, so that he passed his life in continual joy.

We ought not to be weary of doing little things for the love of God, who regards not the greatness of the work, but the love with which it is performed... which will naturally produce its habit in us, to the delight of God, and - yes! - to our exceedingly great delight as well." Brother Lawrence

The end.  For now ;)

"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.  

Broken Hallelujah | Post 15

"Love is not a victory march 

It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah 

Hallelujah"
J. Buckley

Before Caleb + I got married, we talked a lot about children, "family planning" and what "we want" for our future.   The point of this post isn't to discuss our personal convictions, desires and dreams for our family (maybe I'll talk about that someday, though.)  One thing we wondered about was how "easy" getting pregnant would be for us.  Everyone assumed we'd have have kids quickly.  We both come from big families, and both of our parents got pregnant within three weeks of marriage.  My parents, in particular, got pregnant "when they weren't supposed to" or when the odds were very against them (because of birth control, age, timing, etc.)  Getting pregnant was never hard for either of them.

But.  Everyone is different.  And I had no idea what it would be like for me, for us.  I was especially curious because I've been on 18-months of accutane (three different cycles over five years).  More and more side effects comes out (seemingly monthly!) about the drug, and I always wondered if it would affect fertility.  

So, two months after our wedding when we discovered thrilling news that made us speechless for hours, I have to admit... I was not expecting it to happen to that quickly!  We were hoping to be able to have kids "right away" or relatively soon.  We were eager to start our lives together with each other, but also with our children.  We hope to have a big family.  This was only GREAT news and what we were indeed hoping for!  But I was still surprised.  And we still had a while to go before miscarriage-odds were reduced.

And here I sit, just about to the second-trimester, with a lot of pregnancy still ahead of me... a lot that could still happen or be discovered, but my heart and mind hovers at the people who don't have the same story as us.  The people who try and try and try to get pregnant, and so far it hasn't "worked."  The people who have had miscarriages early on (or later on!).  The people who have had adoptions fall through at the last minute - even after they've taken the child home with them.  The people who say "Yay! Congratulations!" to your face, and then go in the car and cry when they're by themselves.  The people who are single and wonder if they'll ever have life-long companionship and kids of their own.  The people who just plain ache at the thought of children.  The road hasn't been easy.  It hasn't been what they dreamed.  It's been a painful, slow, road with no promise that "Yes, someday this will happen for you."

I was listening to my forever favorite Jeff Buckley croon and these words sat on me this weekend: "Love is not a victory march // It's a cold and it's a broken 'Hallelujah' // Hallelujah."  I thought of many faces and names I know.  Women, in particular, who have been waiting for a baby to hold and keep.  So far the love they have for these future people hasn't been "victorious."  They still don't have them here with them.  At every turn it seems impossible for it to ever happen.  Maybe if you stop caring so much?  Stop wanting it so bad?  Stop hoping for it to happen?  Maybe if you try harder? Don't quit and give up? Persevere and fight on? You wonder if you're doing something wrong.  If God's "trying to teach you a lesson." If your hurting heart will ever be healed?  If a baby of your own (or another baby of your own) will ever warm your house, heart and home?  Or will it always be a cold and broken 'Hallelujah'? Or perhaps a cold and broken 'Why, God?' I think of the families who had and lost their children before they ever got to see, feel, name or know them.  These Mystery Faces that are real whose souls were real and live on today.  I think about these things.  

Someday we may walk the same road.  We may lose this baby and have to wait until heaven until we "meet" our child.  We may have this one easily, and then struggle with future pregnancies.  Or we may not.  We will have what the Lord deems best for us.  He will give us what is good.  He will not withhold one good thing from us.  He will do us good all the days of our life.  Even if we walk through the death or "absence" of our children. 

And I have a heart for those who are hurting over pregnancy, babies and death.  I want you to know that I care and that I'm aware.  I may not know every story or every situation.  But I care that you are hurting and I'm so so sorry.  I am praying for you - some by name, and some "in general."  I think about your children that we wait to meet in heaven.  I miss them with you.  I sometimes don't know how to talk about it or what is helpful (or NOT helpful) to say.  Sometimes I don't even know your story at all.

I don't know - I think I just felt like I needed to say this.  Though we have ONLY received happy faces, huge hugs and genuine excitement about our baby, I know in the crowd there must be some who wish it could be them.  Who maybe were frustrated that it happened "so quick" for us and it's been so hard for them.  No one has even hinted at that to me.  But in case there are private tears and secret heart-sinks, I just want you to hear from a young, newlywed who got pregnant fast:  Thank you for being brave, rejoicing with your friends and sharing in happy news... And I'm sorry that your hurt is very real and your pain is very deep.   I don't know what it's like, I can't relate, my hurts and struggles in life aren't "compatible comparisons" to what you are going through.  I feel like it's important for me to say that you and your life aren't forgotten because of "new life" nor is a baby you don't have with you a forgotten one.  

And Isaiah 44 is true:

For I will pour water on the thirsty land, and streams on the dry ground;
O Israel, you will not be forgotten by Me. Sing, O heavens! Shout, O depths of the earth!

I'm praying for a "peace like a river" that streams into the darkest, driest crannies of your soul.  I'm praying that the words "You are not forgotten" will not be bland and empty, but will revive and tenderly comfort you.  I'm praying that you will be able to sing, even if it's a chorus of broken 'Hallelujah.'  I'm praying for the word 'promise' to be an anchor for you.  A promise from God is a fact from God. It just IS true.  I'm praying that that will be sweet to you, and not bitter.  I'm praying that you feel the freedom to cry, talk, share, stay home, feel and work through the process without feeling like a failure or wimp.   I'm praying that you will have good, genuine, patient, funny friends to love on, listen to and support you.  I'm also praying that your story, even in the smallest way, would speak glory upon glory to someone who really needs help someday.  I'm praying for babies in your arms, very soon.  And most of all, I'm praying for unmixed joy found in the Gift-Giver because of His sweet, to-hell-and-back joy in you.  

Life is fragile and it is not a right.  Each and every life is unspeakably precious and brilliantly valuable - including yours.  Hallelujah!

Letters To Baby | Post 14 | 13 Weeks

Dear Baby,

There are so many things I can't wait to tell you about - how dad and I became "us", how to build forts, how to burn desserts in the oven (maybe you can teach me how not to do that), how English is a ridiculous language with lots of hard rules... but it still matters to know them, how it's fun to wear socks that don't match, how to get dad to stop tickling you (he's a softie... it's not too hard), how we come from some incredible families who have lots and lots of stories, how to shoot a lay-up, how much we love you.

But right now I want to tell you about your Parent In Heaven.  I'm learning a lot about Him lately.  Mostly because of you.  Parenthood was very important to your Father.  He wanted a Family, a Home, a Lineage, Inheritance and Heir to His riches.  He wanted children in His house.  He wanted a bride for His Son.  He wanted to deliver, adopt, name, raise and keep His own.  Don't be confused with "want" and "need."  He didn't need a family.  He didn't need to go through the effort of making, providing for, having, feeding, caring, helping, sustaining, teaching, suffering for, bailing, holding, planning for, giving to and loving a motley crew of kids.  But He has this crazy, large, good heart that wanted that.  Children and family weren't a burden or problem, they were the goal and the prize.  Being their Father was what He decided would celebrate and display and express His Goodness the best.  

our favorite picture of you ;)

"He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world... In love He predestined us for adoption as sons."  "You shall nurse, you shall be carried upon her hip, and bounced upon her knees. As one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you." "When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. I taught them to walk; I took them up by their arms, I led them with cords of kindness, with the bands of love, and I bent down to them and fed them." "We cry, 'Abba! Father!'  We are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God." "I am jealous for them with great jealousy... the streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls playing in its streets. It is marvelous." "Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven." "In my Father's house are many rooms... I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you, that where I am you may be also.""The Father's name is written on their foreheads."  "He will delight in prospering you." "Yet the number of the children of Israel shall be like the sand of the sea, which cannot be measured or numbered. And in the place where it was said to them, 'You are not my people,' it shall be said to them, 'Children of the living God.'" 

It's not something that can be escaped when you read His Story.  This Father wanted to be known for His grace, and He wanted to be generous to and love us.  The people.  You're a person, little one.  You're alive.  Before there was a physical world and even time, The Father decided that He was going to make you and give you a soul, a body and life.  He decided that you would start life inside my body, through the life of your dad and I, and that of all the people who ever lived, you would be dearest to our souls.  He made these arrangements well before dad or I were alive.   We were "visions in His mind" and He knew us, and our parents, and grandparents, and entire family history way back at the very beginning.  He chose to make us because He wanted us.  He wanted to make you.

it's brilliant fun to "research" and think about getting ready for you.

I don't know how long your life on earth will be, but because you are a person with a soul, you will live forever.  Souls don't die.  I don't have a promise that I'll get to hold you in my arms (I pray everyday that I will be able to, however.)  I don't get to know if you'll live on earth for one day, or six days, or six years or 106 years.  But I do know this: you are God's joy and He has decide to give you to us.  So humanly speaking, you are ours.  You are a part of our family, our home and our heritage.  Dad and I are preparing a place for you. We are getting ready to provide for your needs.  We love to dream about bouncing, comforting and feeding you.  We try to imagine what you'll sound like when you call to us.  We wonder how soon you'll walk, if you'll be able to walk?  It is marvelous to picture a world where you can play in the city streets safely - because all the "dangers" of this place make me want to protect you forever and always.  We can't wait to do good for you and to prosper you.  You are "our people," or rather "our person."  And we will name you, keep you and love you.  We want you, and you are not a burden or problem to us.

Though, in order to have you, my body has to go through significant pain.  Your tiny body inside me causes my body to hurt, struggle and grow exhausted.  I've never spent so much time physically hurting like I have being pregnant with you.  Food, water, and vitamins are my daily "enemy."  I'm afraid of them, and afraid of what they might do to me.  Being hungry is also an "enemy" - a more predictable one, however.  I KNOW I will hurt - badly - if I don't eat.  So I have to try.  Nausea and throwing-up and a host of other special treats are common to me.  I hardly remember what it feels like to not "feel sick" or "feel queasy."  The physical toll directly impacts the emotional and mental part of me.  Discouragement, comparison to other newlyweds or mothers, fear, weariness and complaining come easily.  "God, I can't take this anymore.  Please make it stop.  I hurt so bad.  And I'm tired of having a sour stomach.  I'm tired of being able to do so little.  I'm tired of throwing-up my entire meal, out of my mouth and nose, and wetting my pants in the process - every time - because I'm so out of control of my body.  I'm tired of smelling throw-up for hours after the whole process because I can't figure out how to clean my nose out.  I'm tired of feeling SO fat.  I'm tired of canceling plans because I just can't do it.  I'm tired of being afraid of cars, sitting up straight and night.  I'm tired of feeling so boring.  And useless."  Oh, it comes so easily, little baby.  But here is where you are changing my life, for always and ever.  You are making this sink in: The Father's Son, Jesus, spent His life and body on me.  

He left beautiful bliss and came to hurt for me.  His body was destroyed.  He hurt, He cried tears of pain, He bled, He tasted sour vile, He was hungry, He felt sick, He was exhausted, He ached, He even asked The Father to remove the weight of the pain - if there was anyway possible, and yet, "like a lamb led to the slaughter, He opened not His mouth."  He didn't complain.  He didn't turn back.  He didn't lose sight of the goal: life for The Children of The Father, a way for them to come Home.   For the joy set before Him, He endured.  For me, He endured.  And after He championed the deepest pain of all - the sting of death - He proved His victory by rising from death, never to die again.  He did it because He loved us.  Because He loved me.  Because He loved you.  He was thinking of you - the joy of you, the worth of you, the jealousy He had for you - when He suffered.

And, sweet baby, I don't know if I could relate my heart to you.  I don't know if I can give accurate account of how I feel when I think of you.  You'll never understand, unless you one day experience it yourself, why I had to cry when I saw you on a screen in a doctor's office - with arms, legs, a torso, a head (with eyes, nose and mouth) and a large beating heart.  I can't explain to you why I started to cry again when I typed that last sentence.  Watching you for less than a minute move your body, bat your arms, kick your legs and frantically "swim" and spin and dance away gave me joy I have never known.  Dad and I have that image of you emblazoned on our minds.  We were undone and loved you in that moment more than we knew we could ever love anyone.  The Father knew I needed to see you that cold morning.  He knew how it would capture my heart forever.  He know how the pain I've felt and the extra work your dad has taken-up absolutely pale in comparison to the bliss of being your mom and dad.  

It is so worth it.  I would endure anything for you.  I would die to give you life.  Dad would too.  I love you. I love you.  I love you.  I would hurt and be nauseous for the rest of my life, if it meant I got to have you.  We wanted you before you existed, but now that you are here and "with us" and growing, our hearts race as we look forward to knowing and loving you face-to-face.  I wouldn't - I couldn't! - give up on you.  And what absolutely hurts my head and makes these eyes of mine dampen all over again is the realization that what I feel towards you is only a sparkle of the way The Father feels about me.  I was worth it to Him. He would endure anything for me - He would die for me.  He loves me.  He wants me and His pulse quickens when He thinks about me.  He longs for me.  He runs to me like a wealthy Jewish father who was snubbed and disrespected by his offensive son, who considered his father as good as dead and wasted his good inheritance on filth and misery.  The father ran to him!  He hugged and rejoiced and blessed him!  He celebrated, gave that naughty boy even more good and beauty, and announced a day of feasting! He reminded him "All that I have is yours!" His heart was full because His child was home.

Becoming a parent is not right we have or a decision we made, but it's a gift we've been given.  We get to share in the character of God by experiencing parenthood.  We get to understand in new colorful layers the sweet adoration a parent has for a child.   We are learning that our Father genuinely and happily enjoys us, that we bless His heart when He gets to bless us.  Not everyone gets to experience this.  We consider ourselves supremely blessed by the Gift-Giver and the Gift.  

I'll end with the scripture that is most-prized to me these days:

"When a woman has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, 

for joy that a human being has been born into the world. 

So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, 

and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you. 

Truly, truly, I say to you, whatever you ask of the Father in my name, He will give it to you. 

Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full."

Thank you for giving us the joy of giving ourselves to you.  We wait with baited breath and ever-growing love as we anticipate sharing with you the Story of Our God, and our very lives (I'm also excited about dressing you up in tiny, precious clothes.  You have NO idea.) You are very dear to us, tiny dancer.  And we long to bring you home.

With all our hearts and souls,
Dad and Mamma

Biscuits | Part 14

The Easy Biscuits That I, The Terrified Baker, Made

pc: stranded in cleveland

 The other night Caleb was working late (heck, who I am kidding.  He works late every night.  Unbelievably attractive, that determination and work ethic of his is.  Praise God he's days away from finishing this current monster project) and I wanted to make sure he had a good meal waiting for him when he came home.  Except that I didn't get myself to the kitchen, ready to cook... until... about 45 minutes before he came home.  We had left over roast beef.  Perfect.  Green beans.  Done.  Mashed potatoes.  Easy.  And while I was looking for something to make for dessert, I discovered a biscuit recipe on the side of the pancake mix box.  The entire process was supposed to take less than 15 minutes and include only TWO ingredients.  How bad could it be?  At the worst the biscuits would just taste like pancakes, right?  I decided to take the risk and give it a try.  

Well!  They weren't bad!  Caleb ate about seven of them (But.  He eats a lot of any kind of bread.) and they were really really easy to make.  They're no Thanksgiving Dinner biscuits, but they ain't shabby for a weeknight!

- 2 cups of pancake mix

-3/4 cup of milk

In a bowl, mix complete pancake mix and milk. Stir and "knead" in bowl or on floured surface (I kinda did both. 

You can then make drop biscuits by dropping your mixture on a greased cookie sheet in large spoonfuls or cut into misshapen 1/2-inch tall triangles or circles. Bake at 350 degrees Fahrenheit for about 8-12 minutes or until lightly browned.

---

Remember, these were not THE BEST BISCUITS I'VE EVER HAD.  However, I am determined to try them again with a little more creativity.  Probably put some butter pats in the middle of each biscuit, and then coat with butter again as soon as it's out of the oven.  I also think they would be tasty with ice cream/whipped cream and berries.  Or apples cooked in sugar and cinnamon, and vanilla ice cream.  Or with honey and jam.   Oh!  Or maybe add some cheddar cheese and jalepenos to the dough?    WITH CHOCOLATE CHIPS TO DIP IN COFFEE (My boy would love that.)  I really think these easy little suckers have potential.   I would ere on the side of less-cooked than more-cooked.  And I would give them a shot.  Worst case scenario?  You wasted 5 minutes and, like $1.50, and have some crumbles to go on your dessert!