weeklythoughtexchange

Ever since this man professed his love for me three years ago, he has never ceased to exemplify the nature of truest love.  You see, pure love is more tangible than elusive emotions; pure love is the solid foundation upon which secure families are built. Mothers are often lauded as the seamstresses of the family fabric, and most definitely they are, but fathers are the frame that hold the fabric in place for the mending, reinforcing, and designing that must happen.  Our society is redefining marriage and family and minimizing the imperative role that husbands and fathers have in their homes, so here is my tribute to the man that I waited 27 long years to marry.

What does love look like? I need only think of him, and I know.  Love is the devotion he showed in escorting me home from work every single day during the year of our courtship. Love is the $200 phone call he placed while deployed, the summer before our wedding, just so he could hear my voice and assure himself that I was real. Love is his telling me I am the most beautiful woman in the world…when I am 9 months pregnant.  Love is his cleaning the bathtub after I lost my dinner in the shower and this is when we had only been married a few short months.  Love is marrying me AND loving my obnoxious cats and dog as his very own.  Love is complimenting how I decorate the house, thanking me every week after I have done routine housecleaning, and learning the descriptions and titles of all of my Thirty-One bags.  But his love goes even deeper than this.

Is there such a thing as sacrificial love? Yes, and I see it in action every day.  Sacrificial love is when he tears himself away from his family day in and day out in order to go to work so that I can stay home with our children.  Sacrificial love is understanding how much it means to me when the babies reach for me first and not begrudging me that fulfilling joy.  Sacrificial love is helping me with my household duties when I am feeling overwhelmed despite his own lengthy list of responsibilities waiting for him.  Sacrificial love is being prepared to work three jobs or go back to school if that is what is needed to provide for us so that I do not need to work outside of the home.  Sacrificial love is esteeming me as better than himself on a daily basis because Jesus is his Example.

After Christ, this wonderful man is the foundation of our family.  He is our anchor in this tumultuous world.  We know that his strong arms will shield us from wind’s buffetings; his broad shoulders are ever ready to bear our burdens.  Should danger assault us, he will not hesitate to shield our lives with his own.  This man is passing on the legacy of selfless love to our son and is teaching our daughter to settle for nothing less than love that esteems her above life itself.   My husband is chivalry in action; the knight on the white horse; the prince from the pages of the past; the man who inspires me to love deeper and more selflessly every single day.

Just because I am a stay-at-home mom whose days are overflowing with the endless tasks of managing a household does not mean that my mind has grown stagnant.  Rather, it is quite to the contrary.  I make every effort to keep my mind active through study, conversation, and working two small businesses.  This morning my brain latched on to a phrase that I read in John 1:9 while preparing a lesson for my Sunday class.

“The true light, which gives light to everyone…” I started to delve deeper into the implications of this phrase.  It is easy to assume that Jesus came to enlighten only those who believe in Him, but this phrase contradicts that assumption.  Through Jesus all mankind is enlightened to his desperate state of separation from God by sin. All mankind is enlightened; all mankind searches for an answer but not all will succumb to that desperation and surrender to the Almighty God.  What are the implications, then, of this heavy phrase? They are weighty, indeed, for if all are enlightened, then all are responsible.  Since our hearts recognize that there is a great divide between the Creator and the created, each of us must decide if we are going to attempt to cross that divide for reconciliation with the One to whom we owe every breath we take or are we going to remain on our side?  Religions and academia are sagas of endless attempts to claim the peace of God without Him.

Maslow opined that man is ever journeying toward self-actualization, the greatest longing of every human’s heart.  It would seem that every person has his or her own theory on what is needed to achieve the actualized self, but each involves self, in some form or fashion, at the center.  Perhaps some require impoverishing self; others demand a deeper connection with self; a few call for the putting of others first, but it is for self-full reasons.  Yet how futile to become a better person from within when it is what is within that is flawed? For something to return to its original design, do we not need the blueprints?  And so it is with the problem of Man.  We were designed to be in relationship with our Creator.  We cannot cross the divide on our own merit.  The cross of Christ is the bridge over that divide.

And so a paradox of choices lies before our enlightened minds.  We can pursue the actualization of ourselves by forging paths that lead away from God in an attempt to exalt our identities apart from God, or we can surrender in repentance and humility and become the individuals that we were designed to be, celebrated and perfected through Christ. “For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.” (Luke 9:24) It is no easy thing to surrender, but the enlightened mind will recognize that the only way to victory is to join the winning side.

It is time to write again.  Ideas have been flitting through my mind from the moment I completed my previous post. It is difficult for me to ever cease from thinking about writing.  It is almost as if my daily existence is a journal and my being is the pen. Every inspiration, action, or happening results in the thought, “I need to write this down!”  Walking is my most word fertile time. It is almost as if the path in front of me beckons the sentences, paragraphs, and pages from the very core of my being. Add to that the dust diamonds sparkling in the sunbeams being filtered through the leafy archways above my hand and classical music emanating from the window of a house nearby…whew! delicious torture for a writer’s mind!

I have ample time to ponder and reflect on that glorious gift we all have in common: LIFE. Days with tiny people has completely altered the pace of living for me.  I used to live at a focused pace, always thinking about how much I could accomplish in as short amount of time as possible.  That is no longer the case. Now everything happens in snippets. When I have time to read, I am content if I am able to read an entire paragraph in one sitting before a baby wakes up from a nap or my best friend gets home from work.  When my husband and I decide to watch a movie, it is a rare occurrence if we complete it in one evening.  Over the Christmas season we managed to stretch 3 movies over 2 months because I usually fell asleep after 15 or 20 minutes! The daily routine is broken up into numerous snippets of meals, playtimes, naptimes, outside time.  Nothing can be done for too long due to infant and toddler attention spans. Christmas decorating had to be done in snippets over a period of days since it was squeezed between naps and diaper changes and meals. This took some getting used to for someone who is used to never leaving a project undone if it can be finished today.

It’s taken some getting used to, yes, but now I can see the benefit of life in snippets.  I find myself pondering more deeply what I read or watched last, as if the book or movie is more woven with my life.  I have never decorated as beautifully as I did this past Christmas because I had more time to envision how I wanted our cottage to look.  And the day to day routine? I didn’t realize how much detail is overlooked in a day until I began to see the world from a toddler’s vantage point.  Did you know that specks on a step could be so fascinating? Or how fun it is to crawl as fast as you can with a toy in each hand? Or how important it is to put all of the refrigerator magnets into the Mr. Lid drawer, look at them, and then take them all back out again?  But in all seriousness, a slower, more dedicated pace is important for the intentional person.  I am attempting to learn that it’s not so much about all that I can get done in a day, or even a lifetime, but about how much of me is invested in what I do.  Jesus walked when He was on earth and in doing so He saw Zacchaeus in the sycamore tree, the Samaritan woman at the well, and the paralytic man by the healing pool.  He rose early to spend time in prayer. He sat in order to teach His disciples and preach to the multitudes.  He moved at a pace that allowed Him to hear the still, small voice of His Father.  Yes, sometimes the snippets in life are what make it whole and fulfilling.

Well, that’s all the writing I can do for now.  There’s crying in the background and baths to be done.

A new year has begun as Time steadily journeys forward. While my mind sifts through the words that could be typed on to this page, my eyes wander out the window, passed the edge of our porch railing, over the rooftops of the neighboring apartment buildings, above the tree line and up to the peak of the mountain range in the distance.  And so it is for my mind seeking to grasp the concept of Time passing.  I think about the year so freshly concluded: back surgery, a new baby, the passing of three friends from this life to the next. The year before that:  the passing of my dear old kitty, a new baby, the conclusion of my teaching career. The year before that: Marriage, my fiancé’s deployment, engagement. The year before that: courtship, meeting my treasured great aunt, meeting my future husband, the adventures of teaching…And so it continues…reaching, reaching, ever reaching for those intangible wisps of life passed, called Memories.  What is life but the creation, collection, and recollection of memories? Who are we without them?

With each year that passes my memories take on greater value; I become more intentional about the memories that I create. Perhaps it is motherhood. I find my mind drifting back to my library of childhood memories and meandering down the lanes that only a child’s imagination could create.  Most of them bring smiles to my face while nostalgia wraps around my heart like a warm blanket.  My children need the opportunities to create such memories.  They will need that treasure trove of moments lived richly to pull from when they encounter the certain difficulties of grown up life.  For isn’t that why we hug our memories close when the storms of life assail us, and we are battered and bruised by the present? Our memories remind us that it won’t always be this way, that we have been loved and will be loved again, that we are strong and will only get stronger, that we have smiled before and our smile will return? But the past does not become the future, and good memories do not come from the present poorly lived.  It is through intentionally living each day well that will provide us with the satisfaction of looking into the face of yesterday and the day before that and the day before that.

And so, as I step into 2016 with traces of the old year surrounding me: the clutter of de-decorating, pine needles strewn upon the ground, and one final cycle through my Christmas music, I am resolving that this year will be a year of investing in memories.

This year I will invest in myself: more reading to cultivate my mind, more writing to refine my thoughts, and less material indulgence to reorient my priorities.

This year I will invest in my friends: more in-person visits, more birthday celebrations, and more effort to pray for them.

This year I will invest in my children: less time on my phone while I am caring for them, less on my schedule so that I can indulge in the every day delights that they bring my way, and more time playing on the floor.

This year I will invest in my husband: more time in prayer for him, more effort given to pointing out his strengths rather than his weaknesses, and less tolerance of my negative attitudes.

This year I will invest in Jesus: more diligence applied to having devotions at the beginning of my day, more readiness to serve those I would normally brush aside, and less complaining when He refines my character.

It is my hope and prayer that this time next year will find me reliving 2016 with a satisfaction that only come from memories well-made.

Travel back in time with me, would you?  Let’s go back to pre-Civil War America to a meeting of Christian minds voicing their thoughts on the plague of slavery upon our land.  Most in the room are urging the Church to speak out against this national sin but then a hand goes up and someone says, “But Brothers and Sisters, this is an opportunity for us to show Christ’s love and bring Christ’s gospel message to the Africans without having to go to Africa. The Lord is bringing them to us!”  How would you respond?

For my part, I would have a mixed response. True, God can work through the bad to bring glory to His name and good into our lives.  However, I would not want it assumed that evil should continue because of the good that may or may not arise from it.  And in no way would I discourage our government leaders from doing everything in their power to end a national wrong or protect our citizens from potential evil.   The Lord has given government the authority of the sword for the purpose of disciplining and protecting the citizenry.   Just as the Church has responsibilities that government should not project itself upon, so the Church should not attempt to assume federal duties either.

The status of Syrian refugees and illegal immigrants has prompted a debate about the boundary between being a Christian as well as a concerned citizen. I have watched the arguments ping pong across my Facebook newsfeed and have come to the frustrated conclusion that no one really knows what the right response should be.  It sounds noble to say that we should embrace and love all of these people regardless if they are innocent or sinister.  But do we live out that attitude towards the convicted pedophile behind bars or the drug-crazed homeless person on the side of the road or the raging gunman in the elementary school? Are we welcoming them into our homes for dinner or to our neighborhood block parties in order to show them Christ’s love?  And honestly, how would we respond if our spouse, parent, sibling, or child was a victim of the next terror attack, blown apart by a suicide bomber or shredded by shrapnel?

Yes, we should love. Yes, we should share the gospel to all the world. But before we righteously rise to the challenge of embracing terrorists perhaps we should evaluate how well we are completing the easier assignments here at home. For example, maybe we should question why there is a welfare system.  After all, doesn’t the Bible charge the Body of Christ with caring for the orphan and the widow among us?  If we were really doing what we are called to do, wouldn’t it render moot the state welfare system?  And how about the legal murder of babies in our society? Shouldn’t there be a constant urging of ALL Christians to do everything in their power to rid this diabolical trade from our land?

So do I have an answer about how we should handle the people from other nations desperately fleeing to a better life? Not really.  If they do come to America, then we absolutely need to treat them rightly and provide them with compassionate care. Until then I believe we should urge our leaders to do what is in the best interest of our own citizens because that is their responsibility. After that we need to review God’s Word to remember our own responsibilities to those in need who already live amongst us.

The newest member of our family is due any day now.  We have opted for “Team Yellow” with this one, choosing to keep the gender a surprise.  Our conversations, therefore, have hovered around the various aspects of possibly parenting two different genders.  We realize that there will be differences between how we parent our son and how we would parent a daughter, though some things will remain the same.   We know for a fact that we want our sons to be gentlemen and our daughters to be ladies, but how do we cultivate that within these young individuals?

Masculinity and femininity have nearly become bywords in our liberal society.  Women who choose to set their career aside to stay home with their little ones have to frequently justify their decision, if not apologize for it.  Unexplained guilt comes with the confession that “I am a stay-at-home mom.”  Opening doors, giving up seats, and carrying heavy items are practically insults to the independent, self-sufficient girl or woman should a man dare to reveal a hint of old-fashioned chivalry.  To be masculine is to be a mindless, muscled brute with only guns, beer, and sex on his mind.  To be feminine is to be empty-headed, weak, and only capable of housekeeping and diaper-changing.  At least, those are the definitions that I inferred from college classes, trending TV shows, and the news.   From my perspective it seems like women are trying to prove that they can do whatever a man can do: fight on the front lines in battle, enforce the law as a police officer, fight fires, body build, wrestle, tackle the corporate realm, enter politics, etc.  I’m not saying we can’t; I am asking if we should?  What is the price of such gender-centric, egomania?

For women to climb the corporate ladder or shatter the glass ceiling they have to prove they are more capable than the men they are competing against.  They have to show they are just as tough, just as ruthless, just like a man.  In the process, they are losing the gentle, nurturing spirit that rocks cradles during the night, snuggles tiny, sobbing bodies with scraped knees, listens to rambling preschool stories, cooks favorite birthday meals, and soothes tattered teenage hearts.   No, these precious duties of motherhood are sacrificed on the altar of feminism to the principle that to be feminine is to be less than.  Ironically, in an attempt to master the man’s world, feminism has demonized the very gender whose roles they covet.  He is either stupid and incapable or sex-crazed and violent. This mentality permeates what our kids are reading in popular literature, viewing in cartoons, and hearing in music or in the conversation that they overhear.  Girls learn that they have to show up the boys and do everything by themselves; boys learn that girls do everything better and faster than they ever could.  If a boy helps a girl out he is accused of thinking she can’t manage without his help; if he ignores her and does his own thing he is accused of being a bully. The end result is that we have a society of men who are not gentlemen and women who are not ladies that are bemoaning the lack of gentlemen.

I realize that I have made some drastic generalizations here and that there are  exceptions.  My generalizations have come from years of observations in the college classroom as a student and in my middle school classroom as a teacher. I have tuned in to the underlying messages on the news, in movies, and in literature.  I have spoken with men in the military, the police force, and the corporate world in order to get their take on how feminism affects them.  Their testimonies are not positive.   It’s becoming a perilous world for men of chivalrous character, actually, for men in general.  It’s turning into a lose-lose world for them.  They are reprimanded for doing good and being gentle; they are penalized (rightly so) for being vulgar or doing nothing.

So how will we raise our sons and daughters in a gender-skewed world?  By teaching them God’s standards for men and women: each has God-given roles and responsibilities that are different but equal.  They should fulfill those roles and responsibilities with diligence and honor, knowing that doing so will bring them security and peace of heart.  They will learn to treat one another with dignity and respect for they are all created in the image of God. They will serve one another and respond to the service they receive with gratitude and humility.  Our prayer is that the conduct they practice in our home will become habits that will bless all whom they meet.

“My children deserve to be happy; they deserve the best in life.” Who is going to argue with that statement? Don’t we all think that – about our kids and about ourselves? Isn’t that the message with which we are bombarded through our favorite shows, every commercial, college psychology, and popular reads? Every updated smart phone, each new medication, and the latest toy are marketing campaigns for egocentrism and self-indulgence.  “Come on…live a little! You deserve to be happy; you shouldn’t have to wait for what you really want. Live on the edge; buy now, pay later. Indulge.”

Reading between the lines, hearing the hidden messages, spotting the unspoken cues have become my pastime as a parent.  I am suddenly aware of the societal conditioning that I, unaware, have undergone as a member of the 21st Century.  What philosophies have I bought into that my claimed worldview does not support? These are things that I would like my children to avoid.  I would like them to be able to discern truth from lie, fact from fiction.

The truth is that the endurance of suffering reveals greater glory and deeper joy than temporal happiness from the quick escape of pain; delayed gratification produces improved delight than impulsive indulgence; and working for the heart’s desires intensifies appreciation when desires are realized rather than having every passing whim immediately fulfilled.  These concepts are contrary to human impulse and the norms of a self-indulgent society, but they are truths nonetheless, for kids and parents alike.

The fact is that we, as sinners born and bred, do not deserve anything good.  In light of a holy and righteous God our “good” actions are no better than filthy rags.  The best we deserve is eternal separation from God. Yet God in His grace and mercy has provided us with an opportunity to receive salvation through the sacrifice of His Son, Jesus, on the cross.   He refines those who accept His forgiveness, through suffering, through wishes denied, and blessings given on His timetable, not ours.   He transforms our understanding of what is best and what is happiness by steadily challenging us to wait a little longer, reach a little higher, and search a little deeper.

Of course I want my children to be happy, and I want them to have the best – though they, like all the rest of us, do not deserve it.  My greatest prayer is for them to experience the lasting joy that comes from a trusting relationship with Jesus Christ.  Like Job, I want them to be able to endure great suffering that results in a conversation with God. I pray that they will experience what it is like to be the best they can be – to be able to wait patiently for what they want most, work steadily until the job is done, forgive repeatedly when they would rather hold grudges, love deeply when hate looks more appealing, respond respectfully instead of lashing out, and to care responsibly for the possessions and tasks entrusted to them.  The cultivation of strong and noble character is what is best for my children and what this world so desperately needs.

I wanted to blog today despite not having any idea about what I will say.  I still don’t know what I am going to write which is kind of exciting.  Let’s see where this goes!

A few of the recent musings in my mind have involved simplicity in home routines, avoiding depression, and the meaning of forgiveness.  Now that I think about it, they are all somewhat connected.  You see, the more that I pack into my schedule, the higher my stress levels rise and the thinner my patience becomes.  As my patience wears thin, guilt accumulates for all of the things I failed to do, didn’t do well enough, or inappropriately responded to.  The guiltier I feel, the more I despair and soon I am in a pit of gloom that only serves to fuel the vicious, self-berating cycle.  The only way out is through forgiveness.

What exactly is forgiveness? My tendency is to think it means denying anything is or was wrong, but that is not true.  Instead, as my mom concisely clarified, it acknowledges the wrongs and admits that nothing can be done to change the past.  In that moment, we then say, “But I forgive you. Let’s move forward.”  It’s easier to not forgive, but more freeing to do so.  And that includes me.  I rarely forgive myself for my failures, mistakes, and wrongdoings; I don’t want to make excuses for myself or give myself a pass. I’m afraid that forgiving myself is the equivalent of shrugging my shoulders with an “Oh well, I’m not perfect” kind of attitude, and then I’ll just repeat the wrong behavior.  Such an attitude would be wrong; however, I can forgive a repentant heart, a heart that recognizes what I did wrong and is sincerely seeking to turn away from that behavior.  If I forgive such a heart, I and my family will benefit from my renewed spirit.

Often in a day I not only need to forgive myself for messing up, I also need to forgive my child.  If I’m too busy or stressed, I overlook him and this leads to frustrating, exasperating, or destructive behavior on his part. He doesn’t know that I need to forgive him or am even upset with him, but I do.  He is a wonderful example of moving on and not holding on to the past.  As soon as his attention is diverted or he wakes up from a good rest, it’s as if he is starting his day completely afresh. I want to model that behavior in my own life – forgive and start afresh.  My daily forgiveness routine includes my husband as well. He rarely, if ever, intentionally offends me, but sometimes he doesn’t meet the unspoken expectations I have set for him in my head, thus leading to my irritation or frustration.  Rather than lash out, I need to forgive him and establish expectations that are grounded in the reality that he can’t read my mind.  And, crazy as it may sound, I need to forgive my pets too, for, well…being animals and living as if their desires and impulses are the only ones that matter.

All that to say this: maintaining a simple, flexible, daily routine can greatly reduce my forgiveness list.  If I give myself time to meditate on  God’s Word, listen to music, and accomplish the necessities of daily living, I will have the strength of mind and heart to avoid potentially stressful situations and to stay patient when stress is unavoidable. Knowing that I have completed my tasks and appropriately handled stress, keeps me far away from depression and enables me to interact lovingly and gently with the other living beings in my life.

How is that for a conversational ramble?