weeklythoughtexchange

Most Easters in my memory are filled with sunny skies, the scent of lilies, and brunches surrounded by spring breezes. I always thought it was fitting to have sunshine pouring down on a day symbolizing hope and new life; just as an overcast day would sober the spirit on Good Friday.

But this Easter we drove to church under cloudy skies, chill winds and rain spattering our windshield. We had planned to pour out of the van singing songs and ringing bells but instead we had to hurry inside after unloading by the church entrance. It was different and somewhat unsettling for my spirit; I struggled to focus on the main point of the day as I wondered if everyone was prepared for the change in weather. But isn’t that how it is?

This Easter I know of several friends carrying heavy heart loads. I have some burdens of my own. And truth be told, rarely is there an ideal time to enter into our faith. Just today I spent the bulk of the service out in the lobby soothing the baby to sleep and I wasn’t the only mom out there. The fact is that our faith is user friendly. It can withstand every day wear and tear as well as the unexpected: the trials and tragedies of a sin-marred world.

The rain today didn’t rewrite history: the cross is still empty and the tomb barren. We can rejoice in life-giving hope even as we mourn or fall in a crumpled, exhausted heap at our Savior’s feet. Ours is a living joy on rainy Easters and sunny ones.

I’ve been wrestling with this blog for some time. The concept of sacrificial living has been pressing heavier on my heart and I would like to share what I am discovering: not because I’m perfectly applying it but because it is important and I want to get better at it. Over the past two months we have been abundantly blessed by people willing to sacrifice their time and resources for our benefit, and our pastor’s sermons have had the theme of sacrifice woven throughout. Let’s take a deeper look.

In one sermon our pastor mentioned that we have all been given time, talents and treasure. As Christians submitted to the lordship of Christ, these all belong to Him. Upon hearing this I adamantly agreed, but then I wondered how that fleshes out for someone like me- I’m pretty much at home during the week; I don’t have any sparkling talents to speak of; and my hobby businesses aren’t lucrative enough to save a starving child in Africa. In other words, am I really a living sacrifice candidate? I’ve been considering what sacrifice looks like in my life.

1. Sacrifice can involve seeing others. During my hospitalization in March, and the following weeks of anxiety, pain, and depression, my thoughts frequently drifted to others who were suffering or who had suffered and I found a unique empathy for them that I previously had not felt. I realized that sometimes the stony path needs to be felt beneath my feet for me to grasp a little more of what it’s like in someone else’s shoes. It’s easy to make sweeping judgments about someone else’s experiences and how I think I would handle things if I was in their place; it’s easy to be consumed by my own hardships and tune out the pain in my neighbor’s life; it’s hard to discipline my emotions and thoughts enough to make room for the struggles of the people next to me. That’s sacrifice.

2. Sacrifice means choosing joy. I won’t lie. I like to wallow: in self-pity; in fatigue; in pessimism; in a negative mindset. But when I wallow I bring everyone in my home down with me. Basically, I rob them of a good day. There are days when I have to grit my teeth and get moving, doing the right thing and speaking with the right tones. It’s a choice that involves sacrifice because it is often the last thing my flesh wants to do.

3. Sacrifice puts “self” in the appropriate perspective. I have value; however, I am quick to assume that putting others first equates to devaluing my life. But my life does have value because Christ claims me as His own. Playing the martyr every day does not bring glory to God or promote a joyful atmosphere but living in the knowledge of my eternal value does. When I set my mind on praising God for His sacrifice, it brings joy to follow in His steps for those around me. And that is sustainable sacrificial living.

After ironing out my thoughts in this blog, I think that there is ample opportunity for me to live a sacrificial life. My prayer is that Christ will equip me to do just that every day.

Today we have a brand new five-year old in the house. Our Shilo has been a part of the family for half a decade. This boy is a little bit of an enigma to me. Sometimes I feel like I know him very well; other times he seems so mysterious to me. At times, I think he is just as baffled about himself. I decided to sit down and have an interview with my little fellow.

Question: What do you like about yourself?

Answer: I like when I obey Poppa and Mama. I’m good at doing puzzles.

Question: What is the best story?

Answer: Curious George books. I like how he does funny and curious stuff- like how he tried to clean up the juice he spilled but he couldn’t.

Question: Is there something you want to do better when you are 5?

Answer: Read!

Question: If you could only do one thing all day, what would it be?

Answer: Open my birthday stocking.

Question: Tell me about your family.

Answer: I like doing special things with my family like open presents, do puzzles with them, play games.

The entire time I was conducting the interview he was climbing the side of his bunk bed and jumping sideways onto a mattress on the floor. His sister was whispering her answers to the questions into my ear. But his responses were heartfelt and I enjoyed that focused time with him.

When I look at him, I see a little boy who really wants to do the right thing but whose body just gravitates to the thrill of disobedience. I see a little boy who truly values pampering his mama with flowers and foot rubs but sometimes just needs to destroy something. When I see Shilo, I see a little boy who wants to know how everything works but sometimes forgets that not everything is meant to be taken apart. I see a little boy who knows how to gently cuddle his newborn brother but sometimes forgets his own strength when he is playing rough with his other siblings. When I look at this brand new five-year old boy, I see a miraculously complex human being who is helping me grow in wisdom, patience and love.

Shilo reminds me of the reality of the human experience. Both sides of him are equally real and throughout his day he needs a mama who loves and praises and forgives him consistently: just like I need that from Christ as I live out my own human experience.

I am so very thankful to be the mama of this fantastic boy.

It’s my 38th birthday. I always reflect deeper on my birthday and even more so as I prepare for the imminent arrival of my 8th child. I find that birthdays and BIRTH days automatically cause me to evaluate where I’ve been, who I am, and what’s next.

Motherhood is currently my primary occupation. It’s not a glamorous one: my days are usually filled with cleaning up spills, repeating instructions, breaking up fights, washing smelly laundry, scraping dirty dishes, wiping running noses, changing stinky diapers, unclogging toilets…well, you get the idea. It’s a far cry from a decade and more ago.

Back in my previous life I traveled frequently, even to Europe multiple times. I worked with fascinating people on a beautiful tropical island. I focused completely on my higher education, earned multiple degrees, received accolades as a teacher, had a career plus side jobs, and poured myself into ministry. It was a rich, amazing life that revolved around my interests and passions. At times I wonder if I shouldn’t have seized even more opportunities when I had the chance to do so. Now I’m focused on juggling: juggling household tasks with newborn schedules with teaching my children with my own hobbies when I have a spare second.

This morning over a yummy birthday breakfast I intentionally absorbed the chance to study each face around the table. I listened to my husband singing to me and strumming on the ukulele. All of our people were smiling and clapping and celebrating with me; each one unique and a story unfolding. He and I have given up so much time together because we are parents. We don’t go out much or have the chance to indulge our whims and fancies. We frequently feel like we are parents first and marriage partners second. Should we have done more before this life began?

Society tells young people to live it up when they have the chance. Before the babies and the burdens of family life begin they should play all they can and enjoy the freedom of no responsibility. Maybe that’s all true. But to me that portrays the fun as the real living. You see, in the midst of my single life I was really just killing time as I waited for my heart’s desire to begin: a handsome husband with whom to raise a family.

Flipping back through the pages of the past we see that pivotal history wasn’t made by people living for fun; what was significant in positive ways came from those living with intention. Self-sacrifice is a requirement when raising a family but that is true of any investment worth making. One day I will catch a glimpse of each of these children leaving their mark in our world and I’ll know that these years were the ones when I was truly living it up.

We have behavioral regressions happening in our home. Issues we thought had been resolved are cropping up again and are dominating our days. They affect everyone; no man is an island and the misbehavior of one truly does impact everyone around them.

I’m not immune to the parenting posts and blogs and books and the impression they give that if I follow a few certain steps my children will immediately respond favorably. And if they’re not responding? Well, that must mean there’s an error in my parenting strategies somewhere. But when my mind slips on that mental slide, I have to quickly rein it in and face the facts: my children are human and humans are sinners and sinners need a Savior. At this point, the majority of them have no inclination to curb those carnal impulses. If they want something, they yank it away from someone else. If they’re angry, they scream or throw something. If someone hurts them, they hurt back. Self dominates in those adorable little bodies and we all know it. The parents’ responsibility is to create the boundaries of behavior and consistently enforce them.

And there are days when that goes well. I see progress in myself and them as I accept the training process and respond to their struggles with compassion and gentleness. And then there are days when I’m back to the beginning and it seems like all of the old habits have returned: in them and me. Their misconduct is met with frustration and impatience on my part and we face off with determined glares and rigid posture. After a flurry of warnings and consequences, no one feels peaceful inside.

It’s following times like that when I’m reminded of how much I’m included in the first paragraph of this blog post. The flesh versus spirit battle that I see so vividly in my offspring is a daily constant for me as well; I just tend to mostly gloss over it with creative excuses. The fact is that this daily battle with sin is opportunity for daily doses of grace- for them and me. This doesn’t mean that sinful behavior is excused or given room to flourish; it does mean that steps off the path are met with compassion and grudges aren’t held.

Romans 8 has a long list of things that won’t separate us from the love of God once we are His. I think I need to make a similar list for my children. Nothing can separate them from my love: neither temper tantrums nor broken treasures, neither thrown objects or screaming, neither neglected chores or routine late night wake-ups, neither sibling squabbles or endless complaining. This isn’t so much a reminder for them as it is for me. Just as God doesn’t hold my hourly failures against me because of His great love for me, I need to show continual grace towards my children because of my unconditional love for them.

Romans 8 also holds that beautiful reminder of all things working together for good- and every day there is some good to hold on to. Perhaps it’s belly laughing together or genuine interest in family worship or children playing amiably together, or a hilarious story being shared or a moment of quiet in the house. The good is there and is just as valid and real as the things that are less than favorable. Remembering the good when I engage with my children is another form of grace upon grace.

I cannot hold my children to a standard of perfection; neither can I hold myself to that standard either. But every day I need to encourage each of us to keep moving forward because God’s grace allows us to not call it quits.

I noticed something while reading in the book of Luke: John the Baptist had such an impacting ministry solely focused on the glory of God and Kingdom growth. And then…just like that…he was imprisoned and later beheaded. Why? It seems like such a waste of a ministry leader; think of all he could have done had he been given twenty or thirty more years to serve!

And then there were Moses’ mom and Hannah, the mother of Samuel. How heart wrenching to have those special baby boys only to turn them over to someone else- sure, it was God’s plan, but think of how they could have thrived in the care of their godly, attentive moms!

And don’t get me started on all the Old Testament prophets. They endured some grueling afflictions- for what? To speak a message to people who really didn’t care? And sometimes they only did one thing and that’s all you heard about them. What a waste of godly potential, don’t you think?

I’ve been thinking about this as I find my way around the new year. I have so many hopes and dreams and plans and goals; I really would like an extra shower or two of blessings and a little more driving down Easy Street if possible. But when I reflect on biblical history it’s apparent that God’s focus is not on human comfort; quite the opposite, in fact. Scripture profusely describes the necessity of trial for the sake of transformation.

Instinctively I get defensive by that reminder and start to protest in my heart: “but that’s hardly fair! Shouldn’t I get a chance to rest after all I’ve been through? Look at how hard I work! I’m trying to be a faithful steward.”

Human history isn’t about humans in general or me specifically. Time doesn’t obey the human directive or the human whim. Nature’s cycles don’t operate by man’s ingenuity. No, it all exists through the word of God for the glory of God; it is enough that we are allowed a part in this epic story. And when I don’t think that’s enough or when I feel overlooked by God in the hustle and bustle of life and start sputtering my “look at me!” complaints, there’s the quiet response with arms fully outstretched on either side: “Look at all I have done.”

Our precious second daughter,

Here you are on your sixth birthday. In some ways, six is still such a little girl. And you are such a little girl: you love bright, shiny things; you enjoy dressing up and getting new shoes; you take such wonderful care of your baby dolls and stuffed animal friends; you set up wonderful tea parties with your big sister.

But when I reflect on you as a baby and then a toddler, six seems like such a mature age. And you have matured in extraordinary ways! You have gone from the immobility of infancy to riding your bike, swimming like a dolphin, dancing, climbing and swinging. You have gone from the dramatics of a toddler to being a dependable helper. You no longer use your voice to scream your emotions; instead, you sing during your devotions, eagerly read to us from the Bible, and ask many questions. You have an irreplaceable spot in our family and have coined many terms and phrases that only work when you say them.

While I do wistfully recall your months of babyhood and regret how quickly they passed, I find this stage of your girlhood a sweet one. I soak in your spontaneity and treasure your tight embraces, especially when they’re paired with those timeless words: “I love you SO much, Mama.” I hope you never stop dancing or helping or singing or giggling or dressing up or offering your sweet words of encouragement.

I’m thankful you will be six for an entire year,

Mama

“Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good. His love endures forever…to Him who alone does great wonders, His love endures forever.”

It’s that time of year when we look ahead and reflect on what’s to come. A new year is the ideal opportunity for a fresh start, a do-over in certain areas, a blank slate, a calendar of unlimited potential, a goal-maker’s dream. But what do we do with the old year?

It hardly seems fair to toss it in the trash heap of worn out years or to kick it aside as 12-months of failed tries or to forget about it as we jump into something new. It’s part of the history that makes us who we are; we can’t change it and, while some aspects might be nice to forget, I’m sure there are things about it worth remembering. I have a suggestion.

Let’s wrap up our old year as a gift to the new. Psalm 136 is a recounting of God’s wondrous deeds for His people. Each attribute and action listed is followed up with the fact that His love endures forever. But I like to remember the “behind the scenes” of these magnificent deeds: desperate situations, messy moments, failed promises and broken people. In spite of all the havoc of humanity on history, God’s love endures forever.

As I prepare for the bright, shiny, promising year that’s only days away, I want to gift myself the hope that flows from one year to the next. When remembering 2022, my mind immediately jumps to all the mishaps and mistakes but I do want to push beyond them to see how God came through for me. Mercy, forgiveness, inexplicable joy, unexpectedly good outcomes abound- all testimonies of His love enduring forever. What a memorable Christmas gift!

When you are tucking your gifts under the tree, will you add your old year too?

Simplifying the holidays is trending these days. My newsfeed is filled with moms talking about how they are de-stressing the season by nixing many familiar traditions. Some are finding alternatives to gifts; others are not mailing out cards; and a few aren’t even bringing out the tree and decorations. As I’m prone to do, I start comparing my thoughts and opinions and lifestyle with what I see on social media so I’ve been thinking more about our holiday traditions.

It sounds appealing to not be stressed- this time of year or ever. But is tossing out tradition truly the remedy for stress? I remember when, in my early adult years, my family decided to not do Christmas gifts anymore. I felt very sad about it because seeing the surprise and delight when my loved ones opened up their gifts from me was one of my favorites dimensions of Christmas. This year my mom sent a video of my childhood home all decorated and a flood of pleasant memories filled my mind as I recalled the stories associated with those familiar decorations and helping her decorate as a child. I think traditions anchor our lives in a changing world.

During Communion at church this morning, I reflected on all the traditions God has instituted for His people: the festivals and feasts and celebrations and daily reminders. The annual repetition of these events refreshes in our minds what is significant in this life. This is crucial in a time when anything traditional is considered a hindrance, a robber of self-fulfillment. On the contrary, however, traditions link us to our past and connect us with our faith, family and friends. Traditions add meaning to our existence as we carry on what was done by our parents, grandparents, great-grandparents and so forth.

This does not mean that every Christmas we have to do it all: mail 500 cards, make 20 cookie recipes, give presents to every person we have ever known, put up Pinterest-worthy decorations, and attend all the parties. But I think with careful evaluation and discussion we can find a way to curate traditions that will cultivate a heritage of tradition for the next generations to carry on. Here are some suggestions for how to do that:

• Before cutting a tradition, talk to family members about it. Consider their love languages. Different traditions speak differently to each individual and you don’t want to nix something that holds deep meaning to someone else.
• Write down priorities. Are nightly Advent readings a must-do? What about time with friends? Staying connected with long distance loved ones? After you have made your list, start jotting down ways you can touch on each priority without being overloaded. Maybe bake 4 recipes instead of 10? Or attend one social event instead of 5? Set a price cap on what you’ll spend on each child, for example.
• Put a pause on regular routines. You can put on hold the things you do all the rest of the year in order to make room for your festive plans.
• Linger over some things. We have decided to do 3 days of Christmas so we aren’t trying to cram all the special things into one day.
• Start early. I set a goal to get our cards going in November and to have all the shopping done by the first week of December. This gives me a chance to work on mailing and wrapping at a less frantic pace.

Ultimately, each family needs to determine what works the best for them. A few things done very well can be more memorable than a packed schedule easily forgotten in years to come. But more than anything: make traditions and keep them. There is more value in repetition than we may ever realize.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this phrase. It’s one thing to apply it to myself; it’s another to apply it to a household. Two key events brought this more recently to my mind: Disney’s defiance against traditional values was one and the other was Halloween.

This year Disney has openly declared its support of the LGBTQ+ agenda and that not only do they support it, they will also be promoting it in their upcoming films. Suddenly I started to notice Disney’s influence everywhere I turned: music, toys, bumper stickers, food labels, clothing, people’s vacation plans. Disney is iconic and has woven itself into the fabric of our society. It is truly a household name; so many of our fond childhood memories involve something Disney; whether it be Winnie the Pooh and Eeyore or Mickey Mouse or all those classic friends such as Lady and the Tramp, Dumbo, or Copper and Todd. I’m sure you can add to that list of memories. And don’t we all want to pass them on to our children? But does including some Disney in our life mean that we are celebrating them?

When Halloween rolled around this fall, our children were more aware of it than ever before. They couldn’t help but be intrigued with something that even friends at church participate in. There’s a thrill that comes with candy and dressing up and being a little scared. But they also don’t like the horror and gore that lines store shelves and neighborhoods. This time I did a bit of research and discovered the original religious roots of this holiday. It turns out that All Hallow’s Eve (Oct. 31st) is a time to remember the eternity of our souls and the certainty of death so each child held a lit candle and we read in Revelation about the White Throne of Judgment:

November first is All Saint’s Day and we made soul cakes with holes in the middle. We remembered the martyrs and missionaries who dedicated their lives to telling others about the gospel. We discussed how every person is empty until we surrender our lives to Jesus and He fills us.

The third day of observation is All Souls Day. The children drew pictures about people who impact their lives and also drew about the people with whom they want to share Jesus:

I hope that we can build on this new fall tradition and I am also thinking that I can apply what I learned from my efforts to other aspects of this world. Perhaps I can take the evil of this society we live in and use it as opportunity for teaching our children about what we truly believe. Maybe there are ways to enjoy the nostalgia of Disney without supporting them financially or endorsing their messages; maybe there are ways for our family to be familiar with what is trending so that we can engage our neighbors in discussions that take us all a little deeper in thought. Maybe.

I’m starting to conclude that the key to being in and not of is being the salt and the light within the world. Just as salt brings flavor and light provides contrast, in a world that has nothing but emptiness to give our presence can offer comfort and hope because we are not of it. We are certain of what is not seen.