I was just reading over a recent post I wrote called "Daddy's girl" in which I wrote about my relationship with my dad. I needed to revisit the perspective of hope out of which came that post because after this weekend I needed a refreshment.
I have never been around my dad during a manic episode, at least not to my recollection. I've spoken to him many times on the phone and know all the tell-tale signs but being around him this weekend really punched me in the gut. Since he was on his medication, he really wasn't that bad--not as bad as he can get without meds (this "bad" is the kind of impulsive and reckless behavior that has landed him in jail). But it was still difficult seeing him from this perspective. My husband described it perfectly when he said that he was like a 60-year-old man with ADHD, if you can imagine it. He talked almost incessantly, shared things he would never utter when not manic, and flew from one task to the next without really spending much quality time with me. But he was almost glued to Savannah, which was wonderful to see. He didn't have much of that "natural touch," but he fawned over her like any proud grandpa would do.
I'm supposing that none of that really sounds so bad, but I guess it's just that I realized once again that I won't ever have the type of relationship with my dad that I crave. When I see him in his "normal" moments (a low-grade depression as he once told me) and his manic moments, I know that I'm not getting the full picture. I don't know if I will ever know the man he truly is without the mental illness. I keep telling myself that we will have that relationship in which we can have deep and involved conversations and a true trust between one another. That we will have a relationship in which we can understand one another's sense of humor and just call each other to see how the day is going. That I could buy him a little present and really know that he will like it because I know what he likes and dislikes. I want all those little things and all the big things that make any relationship good, but I'm figuring out that this may never be possible. It is yet just another painful realization in the life of my relationship with my dad. I'm really trying to focus on the positive, but for now all I feel is disappointment.
But an important point I've been missing is that he has this mental illness. As much as I wish it weren't so, this is a part of him. God could take it away, but God has allowed this to happen to my dad for reasons that I can never know. I want my dad without this thing that clouds his mind, but I have to accept that I'm never going to get that. I have to accept him as he is and allow God to show me how to enjoy the relationship we do have. Truly I am blessed to even have this.
When my mom died, I felt sort of orphaned since I could not rely on my dad at the time for much of anything. This feeling is creeping back in now, the feeling that I don't have those roots in my parents that I think I need. I can complain to God about the unfairness of it all--about how the relationship with my dad is unsatisfactory and how I can't have my mom anymore; but when I am left with the truth and the pieces I do have, what will I choose to build with them?
I believe with all my heart that God is making something beautiful out of this relationship, and I have seen small signs already, but I want to see the final product--what God sees when he looks upon the work of art he will create out of these broken pieces. When I ask him to show me, though, he will not. He will not show me because he wants me to trust him with it. He knows that my artistic abilities are lacking but that his are perfect. When he looks upon the mess of my past--the wreckage of my parent's divorce, the scarred mind of my father, the death of my mom and the hole she has left in my heart--He sees the beautiful masterpiece that He can and will make if I will choose to give him all the pieces. You'd think I would have learned by now that I am a clumsy, foolish mess when it comes to repairing my broken heart.
I do believe that this is the most revealing I've been in my posts, but I just couldn't not write it. We all have broken pieces from our pasts and our presents. I pray that when you look at your pieces you will not strain and fret over how to make them look pretty or how you can hide them under the rug. I pray you will do the hard thing with me. Let us live every day to please our Lord. Let us allow him to deal with the pieces completely. He so desires to make all of this brokenness new.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
leave it
Lately, I have been thinking a lot about prayer. I have always thought highly of the so-called "prayer warriors" and think often of the life of prayer, the life that lives inside the prayers that our Lord hears.
My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers is my favorite devotion. I keep going back to it year after year. If you've never read it consistently, I highly recommend it for its concise yet thought-provoking messages each day. The past few days the devotions have been about prayer, so I wanted to share my thoughts on what Chambers wrote. He begins by writing on our circumstances and how they are not by chance but that "God brings you to places, among people, and into certain conditions to accomplish a definite purpose through the intercession of the Spirit in you." He goes on to write, "Your part in intercessory prayer is not to agonize over how to intercede, but to use the everyday circumstances and people God puts around you by His providence to bring them before His throne, and to allow the Spirit in you the opportunity to intercede for them" (November 7). I have been in this agonizing situation many, many times. I not only agonize over how I should act physically, but also over how I should pray and what I should pray for.
While God is uncannily complex and our comprehension of him is minuscule, his directives for us are always simple. The Lord has been dealing with me lately about my heart toward my husband. I catch myself agonizing over how I should pray for him or how I should act on his behalf or what I should say or do to get him to do something I want. Usually my desires are good things, Godly things, but the way in which I want these things to be accomplished is selfish and manipulative, namely because it is my way of making it happen. It is possible sometimes to manipulate other people, but it is not possible to manipulate God.
So, when I think about how I try to manipulate my husband (really, we all do it), I think this haunting question: What kind of wife am I? Negative phrases pop into my mind: nagging, takes control too much (making a budget without consulting him), bothered by silly, unimportant things (bottle incident from two posts ago), doesn't see my husband for who he is now as opposed to who I want him to be. Obviously this last thing is the most dangerous. My greatest flaw is that I hold many people in my life to impossibly high standards, including myself. Now, the Lord has done MUCH in my life to heal me of this behavior, but at times I do still struggle with it. We hurt the ones we love the most, right? So for me that would be Chaz. He gets the brunt of bad moods and the leftovers of my sinful behavior. He really does see all the nasty stuff about me, which makes me grateful that he still chooses to love me.
The Lord had to take me down a notch this past week (and don't we all love it when that happens?). I had been brandishing my sword of self-righteousness atop my horse named Pride when a Godly woman showed me where I had strayed in my thinking on a certain issue regarding my husband. There are too many times that I believe I have the right answer for the ones I love. I know what God wants to do for them (Yes, it's okay to point and gasp at the crazy woman). You see, I have to be reminded that I am not the arbiter of right and wrong or the dispenser of God's word for others. I am not. He is.
If I believe, truly believe, that God's vision for my loved ones and for myself is good, then I will trust him to make things happen--and these are not necessarily the things I want but what God wants. I will bring my concerns to him, lay them at the cross, and take comfort in knowing that "the Spirit himself makes intercession for [me] with groanings which cannot be uttered" (Romans 8:26). If I can keep my mind clear of that sin which so dominates my thought life, the sin of control, then I can rest in the knowledge that my God just has it. He has the people and the circumstances that I don't. When I give up my death-grip to him, he can free my hands to acts of love and service toward others, including my husband. When my grip is loosened, my heart is free to love without the boundaries I put up--the Holy Spirit acting through me. And it is really just about love, isn't it?
If there is anything you take away from this post, I hope that you ask God who or what you are keeping under a death-grip. Who is it that the Lord is calling you to release into his care? Who is it that you could love so much more freely if the worry over your relationship was gone? What amazing leap of faith could the Lord call you to take if your heart was no longer anxious over a certain situation? Remind yourself that God has it, so leave it with him.
My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers is my favorite devotion. I keep going back to it year after year. If you've never read it consistently, I highly recommend it for its concise yet thought-provoking messages each day. The past few days the devotions have been about prayer, so I wanted to share my thoughts on what Chambers wrote. He begins by writing on our circumstances and how they are not by chance but that "God brings you to places, among people, and into certain conditions to accomplish a definite purpose through the intercession of the Spirit in you." He goes on to write, "Your part in intercessory prayer is not to agonize over how to intercede, but to use the everyday circumstances and people God puts around you by His providence to bring them before His throne, and to allow the Spirit in you the opportunity to intercede for them" (November 7). I have been in this agonizing situation many, many times. I not only agonize over how I should act physically, but also over how I should pray and what I should pray for.
While God is uncannily complex and our comprehension of him is minuscule, his directives for us are always simple. The Lord has been dealing with me lately about my heart toward my husband. I catch myself agonizing over how I should pray for him or how I should act on his behalf or what I should say or do to get him to do something I want. Usually my desires are good things, Godly things, but the way in which I want these things to be accomplished is selfish and manipulative, namely because it is my way of making it happen. It is possible sometimes to manipulate other people, but it is not possible to manipulate God.
So, when I think about how I try to manipulate my husband (really, we all do it), I think this haunting question: What kind of wife am I? Negative phrases pop into my mind: nagging, takes control too much (making a budget without consulting him), bothered by silly, unimportant things (bottle incident from two posts ago), doesn't see my husband for who he is now as opposed to who I want him to be. Obviously this last thing is the most dangerous. My greatest flaw is that I hold many people in my life to impossibly high standards, including myself. Now, the Lord has done MUCH in my life to heal me of this behavior, but at times I do still struggle with it. We hurt the ones we love the most, right? So for me that would be Chaz. He gets the brunt of bad moods and the leftovers of my sinful behavior. He really does see all the nasty stuff about me, which makes me grateful that he still chooses to love me.
The Lord had to take me down a notch this past week (and don't we all love it when that happens?). I had been brandishing my sword of self-righteousness atop my horse named Pride when a Godly woman showed me where I had strayed in my thinking on a certain issue regarding my husband. There are too many times that I believe I have the right answer for the ones I love. I know what God wants to do for them (Yes, it's okay to point and gasp at the crazy woman). You see, I have to be reminded that I am not the arbiter of right and wrong or the dispenser of God's word for others. I am not. He is.
If I believe, truly believe, that God's vision for my loved ones and for myself is good, then I will trust him to make things happen--and these are not necessarily the things I want but what God wants. I will bring my concerns to him, lay them at the cross, and take comfort in knowing that "the Spirit himself makes intercession for [me] with groanings which cannot be uttered" (Romans 8:26). If I can keep my mind clear of that sin which so dominates my thought life, the sin of control, then I can rest in the knowledge that my God just has it. He has the people and the circumstances that I don't. When I give up my death-grip to him, he can free my hands to acts of love and service toward others, including my husband. When my grip is loosened, my heart is free to love without the boundaries I put up--the Holy Spirit acting through me. And it is really just about love, isn't it?
If there is anything you take away from this post, I hope that you ask God who or what you are keeping under a death-grip. Who is it that the Lord is calling you to release into his care? Who is it that you could love so much more freely if the worry over your relationship was gone? What amazing leap of faith could the Lord call you to take if your heart was no longer anxious over a certain situation? Remind yourself that God has it, so leave it with him.
Friday, October 28, 2011
temptation
Not too long ago I spoke with a friend about temptation. She was sorely disappointed in herself because she was yet again at a place where she was wrestling with the same thing she had always wrestled with. I could hear the defeat in her voice when she said, "I thought I had conquered this but here I am again." It stuck with me because I have been there, too.
It is so hard because a false belief that floats around in the Christian community is that Christians have it all together. Even when we know that we are not perfect and never can be, we still try to make ourselves fit into that box of perfection. We are so thankful that Christ died for us and made us right before God, but we still think that we owe him one and ought to not mess up anymore. I really believe every Christian thinks that way sometimes.
And indeed we ought not try to sin anymore and should seek Christ and his righteousness. But I'm talking about giving ourselves a bit of grace in times of temptation. When we get to that place of "Oh, here I am again--that means I must not have grown at all and I've learned nothing" I think we need to take a little heart check.
Doesn't the simple fact that you realize you are in "that place" again mean that you have grown? Previously, wouldn't you have just fallen into the old pattern of sin and not given it a second thought? Stopping just short of committing an old sin and wrestling against the temptation speaks volumes on how much a person has grown in their faith.
And in the case of my friend--she called me to talk about it. I pointed out to her that calling on a fellow Christian in a time of temptation is a huge sign of her growth. She called me and not another friend, a friend that would not understand her struggle and just advise her to follow her desires with a tagline of "What's the big deal?" The ability to recognize your need to share a struggle with someone who can hold you accountable is another sign of growth.
Finally, keep in mind that this entire line of thinking puts us at the helm of our spiritual growth instead of Christ. The idea that "I thought I had conquered this" is dangerous ground because it makes me the one who can defeat sin when I have no ability to do so. Put your trust in the fact that Christ has justified you and is continuing to work out something amazing in you so that he can present you as "holy and blameless" before God (Colossians 1:22).
Let's stop this pattern of beating ourselves up each time we are tempted with "that old sin." Satan knows our weaknesses, and while we still live in this world we will have to face them. Remind yourself that "while we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:8). So, now that we have faith in Christ remember that "if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, we shall be saved by His life" (Romans 5:10). If Christ saved you while you were still a sinner, doesn't his grace cover you even more now that you have been justified by his blood? Doesn't that grace cover you in times of temptation? Doesn't he give you the grace to overcome the temptation? Know that he does and remind yourself that your sanctification is not in the past but is an active, living, present condition.
It is so hard because a false belief that floats around in the Christian community is that Christians have it all together. Even when we know that we are not perfect and never can be, we still try to make ourselves fit into that box of perfection. We are so thankful that Christ died for us and made us right before God, but we still think that we owe him one and ought to not mess up anymore. I really believe every Christian thinks that way sometimes.
And indeed we ought not try to sin anymore and should seek Christ and his righteousness. But I'm talking about giving ourselves a bit of grace in times of temptation. When we get to that place of "Oh, here I am again--that means I must not have grown at all and I've learned nothing" I think we need to take a little heart check.
Doesn't the simple fact that you realize you are in "that place" again mean that you have grown? Previously, wouldn't you have just fallen into the old pattern of sin and not given it a second thought? Stopping just short of committing an old sin and wrestling against the temptation speaks volumes on how much a person has grown in their faith.
And in the case of my friend--she called me to talk about it. I pointed out to her that calling on a fellow Christian in a time of temptation is a huge sign of her growth. She called me and not another friend, a friend that would not understand her struggle and just advise her to follow her desires with a tagline of "What's the big deal?" The ability to recognize your need to share a struggle with someone who can hold you accountable is another sign of growth.
Finally, keep in mind that this entire line of thinking puts us at the helm of our spiritual growth instead of Christ. The idea that "I thought I had conquered this" is dangerous ground because it makes me the one who can defeat sin when I have no ability to do so. Put your trust in the fact that Christ has justified you and is continuing to work out something amazing in you so that he can present you as "holy and blameless" before God (Colossians 1:22).
Let's stop this pattern of beating ourselves up each time we are tempted with "that old sin." Satan knows our weaknesses, and while we still live in this world we will have to face them. Remind yourself that "while we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:8). So, now that we have faith in Christ remember that "if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, we shall be saved by His life" (Romans 5:10). If Christ saved you while you were still a sinner, doesn't his grace cover you even more now that you have been justified by his blood? Doesn't that grace cover you in times of temptation? Doesn't he give you the grace to overcome the temptation? Know that he does and remind yourself that your sanctification is not in the past but is an active, living, present condition.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
small moments
Enjoy the following inner dialogue I had with myself the other day as I was emptying the dishwasher: "Oh my gosh, I can't believe Chaz didn't put the bottles in this thing right. It's freakin' easy! Nipples on the top part, all the other little things in the bottom. How is it all supposed to get clean this way? Is he dumb? Seriously, this is ridiculous! (*Bang, bang* as I throw the empty plastic thing in the sink) Why can't he just pay attention! He doesn't even listen. Liiiiiiiiiiiiifffffffffffeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!"
Oh, woe is me! To have a husband who does not properly load the dishwasher is the saddest part of any married woman's life... right? Hmmmm... maybe I'm being a bit melodramatic.
I hardly ever write anything about my marriage, and I realized it's because it has not been prominent in my mind lately. Except, of course, for the improperly loaded dishwasher, the work clothes strewn on the bedroom floor, and the beer bottle cap left on the end table. It's pretty bad that these small, momentary inconveniences are what dominate my mind these days when it comes to my husband.
Recently, our pastors at Clear Creek Community Church led a series of messages about being peacemakers in our relationships. The senior pastor, Bruce Wesley, spoke about being peacemakers in our marriages and how many of us get to a place where we tend to make "negative assumptions." For me, this translated into my above inner dialogue in which I negatively concluded that since my husband did not properly load the bottles then he never listens to me. Now to a normal person, that would sound like crazy talk, which is why I provided the entire "rationalization" for you sane people. But I really do think that everybody gets to a point in their marriage when they become a little bit crazy. Trust me, if it hasn't come already just wait.
But when I take a moment to stop my crazy inner ramblings and listen to myself, I realize three things:
1. I am being selfish. My silly need to have a neatly ordered dishwasher (like I would load it) was not met, therefore my husband must suffer through a verbal lashing (which will come soon after he gets home from work).
2. This is silly and petty. If this is truly the biggest thing I have to complain about in my marriage, then what is wrong with me? If I have to search for things to engender anger toward my husband, then I must be pretty messed up.
3. How does God see my selfish and petty whining? Wouldn't he tell me to move toward my husband in love and kindness? That the fruit of the Spirit is "love... patience, kindness... gentleness, self-control" (Galatians 5:22). That I lacked each of these in abundance while my mind lingered over the clean dishes that my husband so lovingly placed in the dishwasher the night before so I could take a shower and get to bed at a decent hour.
We all get to a place in our marriages when the moments of ingratitude outweigh the moments of thankfulness. Where is your heart today? Are there moments that could be overlooked so that you could focus more on the good and loving things your spouse does for you, your children, or your home? I know that for me there are more than enough of these moments, and I am trying to focus my thoughts in that direction--to love my husband in the small, treasured moments of the day. Like last night while I was out grocery shopping, Chaz cleaned the kitchen and ran the dishwasher after cooking some mean cheeseburgers for dinner. He is a wonderful husband and father. Thank you, Chaz. I love you!
Oh, woe is me! To have a husband who does not properly load the dishwasher is the saddest part of any married woman's life... right? Hmmmm... maybe I'm being a bit melodramatic.
I hardly ever write anything about my marriage, and I realized it's because it has not been prominent in my mind lately. Except, of course, for the improperly loaded dishwasher, the work clothes strewn on the bedroom floor, and the beer bottle cap left on the end table. It's pretty bad that these small, momentary inconveniences are what dominate my mind these days when it comes to my husband.
Recently, our pastors at Clear Creek Community Church led a series of messages about being peacemakers in our relationships. The senior pastor, Bruce Wesley, spoke about being peacemakers in our marriages and how many of us get to a place where we tend to make "negative assumptions." For me, this translated into my above inner dialogue in which I negatively concluded that since my husband did not properly load the bottles then he never listens to me. Now to a normal person, that would sound like crazy talk, which is why I provided the entire "rationalization" for you sane people. But I really do think that everybody gets to a point in their marriage when they become a little bit crazy. Trust me, if it hasn't come already just wait.
But when I take a moment to stop my crazy inner ramblings and listen to myself, I realize three things:
1. I am being selfish. My silly need to have a neatly ordered dishwasher (like I would load it) was not met, therefore my husband must suffer through a verbal lashing (which will come soon after he gets home from work).
2. This is silly and petty. If this is truly the biggest thing I have to complain about in my marriage, then what is wrong with me? If I have to search for things to engender anger toward my husband, then I must be pretty messed up.
3. How does God see my selfish and petty whining? Wouldn't he tell me to move toward my husband in love and kindness? That the fruit of the Spirit is "love... patience, kindness... gentleness, self-control" (Galatians 5:22). That I lacked each of these in abundance while my mind lingered over the clean dishes that my husband so lovingly placed in the dishwasher the night before so I could take a shower and get to bed at a decent hour.
We all get to a place in our marriages when the moments of ingratitude outweigh the moments of thankfulness. Where is your heart today? Are there moments that could be overlooked so that you could focus more on the good and loving things your spouse does for you, your children, or your home? I know that for me there are more than enough of these moments, and I am trying to focus my thoughts in that direction--to love my husband in the small, treasured moments of the day. Like last night while I was out grocery shopping, Chaz cleaned the kitchen and ran the dishwasher after cooking some mean cheeseburgers for dinner. He is a wonderful husband and father. Thank you, Chaz. I love you!
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Daddy's girl
I figured that it's about time to write about something very important that's been going on in my life for the past few weeks. Some of you have been with me through this journey for several years now and others haven't a clue, so I'm going to give a quick catch-me-up.
I've never had the greatest relationship with my dad. Yeah, I'm one of those scarred girls with "Daddy issues" (and my dear Chaz married me anyway!). My parents divorced when I was seven and my dad moved several states away. I was ten the first time I heard my dad was in jail and it only continued happening until just a couple years ago. He is bi-polar, or manic-depressive, and when his mania gets to its height he makes terrible decisions that usually end with him in jail and then prison. The pattern has always been the same.
At one time, I was very bitter toward him--for leaving us, for being "crazy," and for being in prison. I was also embarrassed of having a dad with these sorts of problems and only told the very closest of friends about him. But God began pursuing me with thoughts of forgiveness early in my college years. It was only after many years of trying to forgive him on my own that I allowed Christ to show me what true forgiveness looked like. That happened a few years ago, and my dad and I have been maneuvering this strange new territory of getting to know one another ever since.
A few weeks ago during a phone conversation, I noticed that my dad was very manic. I could tell by his speech patterns and the subject matter. After getting off the phone with him I called my brother to discuss what I could do. He and my husband both suggested that I just tell my dad what I thought. So I called him back and told him that I thought he was very manic. He said his sister had also noticed and he was very thankful that I told him. Through an odd series of events he ended up in the hospital and realized that this was the safest place for him, where he could not be a danger to himself or others. Unfortunately, he left only a few days later, got himself into a bit of a mess, and then checked himself back in.
Last week, he told me that the doctor advised that he stay for another two to three weeks while they adjust his meds and monitor him. But he ended up talking his way out a few days later. I called on Saturday to check in with him and it was quite obvious that he was still very manic. I called my aunt to discuss this with her and she gave me some great perspective. In only a few years I have gone from becoming very angry with my dad when he became manic--so angry that I would not return his phone calls--to caring enough to seek any help that I could give him. While some say I am "strong" because of this, I respond that it is only because God gave me the grace to be able to extend grace. But sometimes my control-seeking nature tries to take over again. My aunt helped me realize that the only thing I can do is pray for him and love him. For some reason I apologized, probably out of disappointment. "Don't apologize for trying to love your dad," she said. It was the first time I acknowledged how much I do love him in a while.
So, with fear of what he would say and the probability that he would not listen to me, I called to tell him again that he was very manic and needed to go back to the hospital. He promised that he would and that afternoon checked himself back in. He has never done this before and realizes that he may not be able to control when the mania kicks in or how long it lasts, but he can do this one thing to make sure that he is safe. He acknowledged that he could have spared our family so much heartache if he had only realized this twenty years ago. He even admitted that he and my mom may have not even divorced had he been this proactive all those years ago. For the first time in my life I heard him cry with sincere regret over all that he has lost. All I could do was tell him I love him.
I believe sincerely that it is a miracle he is even alive today. God is working out something truly extraordinary in his life, in mine, and in the life of our family. He is "making all things new" (Rev.21:5). I would never trade my dad or the life I have had because of him. Through all of this, God has consistently shown himself to me and has granted me with the humility to see myself as I truly am--a girl desperately in need of not just a father but the Father.
I've never had the greatest relationship with my dad. Yeah, I'm one of those scarred girls with "Daddy issues" (and my dear Chaz married me anyway!). My parents divorced when I was seven and my dad moved several states away. I was ten the first time I heard my dad was in jail and it only continued happening until just a couple years ago. He is bi-polar, or manic-depressive, and when his mania gets to its height he makes terrible decisions that usually end with him in jail and then prison. The pattern has always been the same.
At one time, I was very bitter toward him--for leaving us, for being "crazy," and for being in prison. I was also embarrassed of having a dad with these sorts of problems and only told the very closest of friends about him. But God began pursuing me with thoughts of forgiveness early in my college years. It was only after many years of trying to forgive him on my own that I allowed Christ to show me what true forgiveness looked like. That happened a few years ago, and my dad and I have been maneuvering this strange new territory of getting to know one another ever since.
A few weeks ago during a phone conversation, I noticed that my dad was very manic. I could tell by his speech patterns and the subject matter. After getting off the phone with him I called my brother to discuss what I could do. He and my husband both suggested that I just tell my dad what I thought. So I called him back and told him that I thought he was very manic. He said his sister had also noticed and he was very thankful that I told him. Through an odd series of events he ended up in the hospital and realized that this was the safest place for him, where he could not be a danger to himself or others. Unfortunately, he left only a few days later, got himself into a bit of a mess, and then checked himself back in.
Last week, he told me that the doctor advised that he stay for another two to three weeks while they adjust his meds and monitor him. But he ended up talking his way out a few days later. I called on Saturday to check in with him and it was quite obvious that he was still very manic. I called my aunt to discuss this with her and she gave me some great perspective. In only a few years I have gone from becoming very angry with my dad when he became manic--so angry that I would not return his phone calls--to caring enough to seek any help that I could give him. While some say I am "strong" because of this, I respond that it is only because God gave me the grace to be able to extend grace. But sometimes my control-seeking nature tries to take over again. My aunt helped me realize that the only thing I can do is pray for him and love him. For some reason I apologized, probably out of disappointment. "Don't apologize for trying to love your dad," she said. It was the first time I acknowledged how much I do love him in a while.
So, with fear of what he would say and the probability that he would not listen to me, I called to tell him again that he was very manic and needed to go back to the hospital. He promised that he would and that afternoon checked himself back in. He has never done this before and realizes that he may not be able to control when the mania kicks in or how long it lasts, but he can do this one thing to make sure that he is safe. He acknowledged that he could have spared our family so much heartache if he had only realized this twenty years ago. He even admitted that he and my mom may have not even divorced had he been this proactive all those years ago. For the first time in my life I heard him cry with sincere regret over all that he has lost. All I could do was tell him I love him.
I believe sincerely that it is a miracle he is even alive today. God is working out something truly extraordinary in his life, in mine, and in the life of our family. He is "making all things new" (Rev.21:5). I would never trade my dad or the life I have had because of him. Through all of this, God has consistently shown himself to me and has granted me with the humility to see myself as I truly am--a girl desperately in need of not just a father but the Father.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
my future self
I have a picture in my mind of my future self. She is rising up from her garden, dusting the earth from her hands. The wind blows through her hair as she listens to her children playing happily nearby and surveys her land in a quiet moment of calm contentedness, reflecting on a day that was once again devoted to the Lord.
Umm... today, please?
I've had a vision of myself living this sort of life and, more importantly, living that calm contentedness. Yes, that last part is what intrigues me the most from that picture. However, I always want what I don't have and always look for the next "thing" in life that will make me happy and content. And once I get that thing, the vicious cycle continues.
As a Christian, I must make sure that while I look for the next thing in my life, I look to seek what God wants for me. More importantly, I shouldn't focus so much on what he has in store for me but just on him alone. After all, isn't he alone the source of this calm contentedness I desire?
In the devotional My Utmost for His Highest, Oswald Chambers writes about having the vision of what God wants us to be while living in the reality of what we are today: "There are times when we do know what God's purpose is; whether we will let the vision be turned into actual character depends on us, not on God." When we see our future self we always want it immediately. I know I want it now because he forms character in me through trials. Chambers goes on to write that we must live "the realities of our lives in the light of the vision until the truth of the vision is actually realized in us" (Oct. 4). At one point in my life I thought that meant pretending to be who I saw so that it would one day magically happen--God would say, "Yes, you figured it out!" and he would throw a switch that would transform me into this new and improved version of me.
However, God never rewards us for acting. I think what Chambers actually means is that we ought to thank God for showing us what he is forming in us. And although we are not quite there yet, trust that he is, each day, making us new. Our part is simple but difficult: allowing him to mold us. It's not about working toward becoming that person because when we do that it is all about what we can accomplish, not what God can accomplish.
I am a living testament that this is much easier said than done. Just look at my life over the past few months. God shifted my focus to what was lacking by showing me how much we had but didn't need. Now he is enabling me to become content, if not happy, with less. As my life becomes simpler, I enjoy each day more, learning with small steps how to savor what God is forming in me today. On the days I loosen my grip on the intangible things over which I once forced my control, I see the peaceful and content heart I long for. For the first time, I am realizing that when Christ told his disciples, "follow me" it was more a directive for the heart than the body.
When I look ahead to my future self, I see that she and I have much more in common than I once believed.
Umm... today, please?
I've had a vision of myself living this sort of life and, more importantly, living that calm contentedness. Yes, that last part is what intrigues me the most from that picture. However, I always want what I don't have and always look for the next "thing" in life that will make me happy and content. And once I get that thing, the vicious cycle continues.
As a Christian, I must make sure that while I look for the next thing in my life, I look to seek what God wants for me. More importantly, I shouldn't focus so much on what he has in store for me but just on him alone. After all, isn't he alone the source of this calm contentedness I desire?
In the devotional My Utmost for His Highest, Oswald Chambers writes about having the vision of what God wants us to be while living in the reality of what we are today: "There are times when we do know what God's purpose is; whether we will let the vision be turned into actual character depends on us, not on God." When we see our future self we always want it immediately. I know I want it now because he forms character in me through trials. Chambers goes on to write that we must live "the realities of our lives in the light of the vision until the truth of the vision is actually realized in us" (Oct. 4). At one point in my life I thought that meant pretending to be who I saw so that it would one day magically happen--God would say, "Yes, you figured it out!" and he would throw a switch that would transform me into this new and improved version of me.
However, God never rewards us for acting. I think what Chambers actually means is that we ought to thank God for showing us what he is forming in us. And although we are not quite there yet, trust that he is, each day, making us new. Our part is simple but difficult: allowing him to mold us. It's not about working toward becoming that person because when we do that it is all about what we can accomplish, not what God can accomplish.
I am a living testament that this is much easier said than done. Just look at my life over the past few months. God shifted my focus to what was lacking by showing me how much we had but didn't need. Now he is enabling me to become content, if not happy, with less. As my life becomes simpler, I enjoy each day more, learning with small steps how to savor what God is forming in me today. On the days I loosen my grip on the intangible things over which I once forced my control, I see the peaceful and content heart I long for. For the first time, I am realizing that when Christ told his disciples, "follow me" it was more a directive for the heart than the body.
When I look ahead to my future self, I see that she and I have much more in common than I once believed.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
discontent
For those of you with children (and, yeah, the rest of y'all can relate as well)...
Savannah was fussing the other day. After several attempts to soothe her, I had placed her in the swing. She's started this new thing where she purses her lips and makes a grunting noise when she is tired. So she was doing that and just acting overall miserable. It was then that it dawned on me to finally try the one thing that always works.
It's funny how as parents we can get so lost in the day that we forget the things that our children respond to. It hit me as a smack on the forehead (duh!) when I finally wrapped her up tightly in a light blanket, gave her her teddy, and rocked her while held securely in my arms.
It's the same way with us, of course. Sometimes at our most discontent we complain, groan, yell, pout, throw dishes--choose your flavor or even add one under the "comment" section. We do everything that is fleshly and inherent in our sinful nature except go to our Father. He knows best how to soothe us.
I wonder sometimes if I just like to feel bad. It feels good to feel bad, right? Well, maybe for a short time when an anger is "justified" or when I just feel like having a down day. But when I go too far, I'm off in the danger zone of self-pity and self-destructive tendencies.
I am thankful that it doesn't take God a long time to realize what I need. And I am thankful that although I might fuss for quite a long time, he always knows how to deal with me. He will draw me to himself slowly, reminding me of how I've gone down that path before. Reminding me of how good it feels to rest in him. Reminding me whose child I am.
Curling up in secure, completing, and loving arms sounds like a good ending or beginning of any day to me.
Savannah was fussing the other day. After several attempts to soothe her, I had placed her in the swing. She's started this new thing where she purses her lips and makes a grunting noise when she is tired. So she was doing that and just acting overall miserable. It was then that it dawned on me to finally try the one thing that always works.
It's funny how as parents we can get so lost in the day that we forget the things that our children respond to. It hit me as a smack on the forehead (duh!) when I finally wrapped her up tightly in a light blanket, gave her her teddy, and rocked her while held securely in my arms.
It's the same way with us, of course. Sometimes at our most discontent we complain, groan, yell, pout, throw dishes--choose your flavor or even add one under the "comment" section. We do everything that is fleshly and inherent in our sinful nature except go to our Father. He knows best how to soothe us.
I wonder sometimes if I just like to feel bad. It feels good to feel bad, right? Well, maybe for a short time when an anger is "justified" or when I just feel like having a down day. But when I go too far, I'm off in the danger zone of self-pity and self-destructive tendencies.
I am thankful that it doesn't take God a long time to realize what I need. And I am thankful that although I might fuss for quite a long time, he always knows how to deal with me. He will draw me to himself slowly, reminding me of how I've gone down that path before. Reminding me of how good it feels to rest in him. Reminding me whose child I am.
Curling up in secure, completing, and loving arms sounds like a good ending or beginning of any day to me.
O Lord, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether... If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me. Psalm 139:1-10
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
delusions of a stay-at-home mom
Sometimes I wonder if I should really stay at home.
Yesterday, for example, was a mess. Baby Savy kept waking up during the night and during the day would hardly nap. Baby Blayke (I am watching another infant, four days younger than Savannah which makes it difficult to get out of the house) was only happy if I held her upright (apparently the Grandparents that watched her all weekend forgot that babies DO need to be put down to play on their own). By late afternoon, I had to take a mini break during a double-crying fit and shut myself up in the bedroom for a couple of minutes. I just keep saying, "God, please help me!"
Today has been much more relaxed, and I feel accomplished having cleaned the apartment and taken care of some business. But, like I said, there are many days when I wonder "what if?" What if I had chosen to work outside the home? What if I had ventured on a new career--found something I truly enjoyed? These questions come because the days do indeed run together when you are pent up inside all day. When I was working, I couldn't wait for the time when I'd get to relax all day with my little bundle of joy, cleaning house a little, learning how to cook a little more (which is still very much a work in progress). But now I will do almost anything to go run an errand late at night while Chaz watches Savannah just so I can get some alone time--even if it is with a hundred other people at Wal-Mart.
I wonder if I am really cut out for this job. The thing is, I never got so worked up when I was working. Sure I would get stressed out at times and I hated taking work home with me and I complained ad nauseam about how the impromptu pep rally ruined my lesson for seventh period. But it was a world in which I felt comfortable. It was always changing but within a sphere of predictability, which I loved. Sometimes I think I enjoyed the control I had as a teacher more than anything (which is not good). As a stay at home mom, I have routine and predictability but to an almost depressing degree. Sometimes the most surprising thing that happens is what kind of poop Savannah has in her diaper.
After Savy came, I thought I would enjoy being a stay-at-home mom without question, but it is very hard. Not hard in the sense of duty but hard because for the first time in my life I have to meet the demands of someone else before I meet my own demands. I'm not saying that I feel burdened by motherhood, but it is definitely not all that I had expected.
I know that in reality I would be a very poor working mom. The standards I place on myself would not endure perfection in three categories (i.e. teacher, wife, mom). And by and large these feelings I have mentioned are mostly fleeting. Mostly I think I am still working out the kinks of my new job. I don't give myself enough credit for what I do or enough grace for mistakes. I believe that is a fault in all moms--working outside the home or not--that we need to correct. If we believe in a God who is merciful beyond our comprehension then we should try to take a lesson in mercy for our own hearts.
I have always heard that being a parent will give you greater insight on God's love toward us. One of the lessons I see at work in myself is that while I still have times of selfishness (and always will), it is becoming easier to give up what I want in order to meet the needs of my daughter. Being a stay-at-home mom does have its moments of grandeur--these moments just come in smaller packages. For example, Savannah's new venture is rolling from back to belly all day long. She's just having trouble getting from belly to back. I am thankful that I have chosen to be the one who always gets to show her how to set herself right again. For that, some boring and mundane moments in my day are easy sacrifices.
Yesterday, for example, was a mess. Baby Savy kept waking up during the night and during the day would hardly nap. Baby Blayke (I am watching another infant, four days younger than Savannah which makes it difficult to get out of the house) was only happy if I held her upright (apparently the Grandparents that watched her all weekend forgot that babies DO need to be put down to play on their own). By late afternoon, I had to take a mini break during a double-crying fit and shut myself up in the bedroom for a couple of minutes. I just keep saying, "God, please help me!"
Today has been much more relaxed, and I feel accomplished having cleaned the apartment and taken care of some business. But, like I said, there are many days when I wonder "what if?" What if I had chosen to work outside the home? What if I had ventured on a new career--found something I truly enjoyed? These questions come because the days do indeed run together when you are pent up inside all day. When I was working, I couldn't wait for the time when I'd get to relax all day with my little bundle of joy, cleaning house a little, learning how to cook a little more (which is still very much a work in progress). But now I will do almost anything to go run an errand late at night while Chaz watches Savannah just so I can get some alone time--even if it is with a hundred other people at Wal-Mart.
I wonder if I am really cut out for this job. The thing is, I never got so worked up when I was working. Sure I would get stressed out at times and I hated taking work home with me and I complained ad nauseam about how the impromptu pep rally ruined my lesson for seventh period. But it was a world in which I felt comfortable. It was always changing but within a sphere of predictability, which I loved. Sometimes I think I enjoyed the control I had as a teacher more than anything (which is not good). As a stay at home mom, I have routine and predictability but to an almost depressing degree. Sometimes the most surprising thing that happens is what kind of poop Savannah has in her diaper.
After Savy came, I thought I would enjoy being a stay-at-home mom without question, but it is very hard. Not hard in the sense of duty but hard because for the first time in my life I have to meet the demands of someone else before I meet my own demands. I'm not saying that I feel burdened by motherhood, but it is definitely not all that I had expected.
I know that in reality I would be a very poor working mom. The standards I place on myself would not endure perfection in three categories (i.e. teacher, wife, mom). And by and large these feelings I have mentioned are mostly fleeting. Mostly I think I am still working out the kinks of my new job. I don't give myself enough credit for what I do or enough grace for mistakes. I believe that is a fault in all moms--working outside the home or not--that we need to correct. If we believe in a God who is merciful beyond our comprehension then we should try to take a lesson in mercy for our own hearts.
I have always heard that being a parent will give you greater insight on God's love toward us. One of the lessons I see at work in myself is that while I still have times of selfishness (and always will), it is becoming easier to give up what I want in order to meet the needs of my daughter. Being a stay-at-home mom does have its moments of grandeur--these moments just come in smaller packages. For example, Savannah's new venture is rolling from back to belly all day long. She's just having trouble getting from belly to back. I am thankful that I have chosen to be the one who always gets to show her how to set herself right again. For that, some boring and mundane moments in my day are easy sacrifices.
Friday, September 16, 2011
moved in
So, we've officially moved into our little apartment. Let the savings begin! It really is quite small--750 square feet to be exact. Thank God for storage facilities. However confined I might feel, though, I am beginning to enjoy some aspects of the smallness:
1. Less to clean! Need I say more?
2. No need to run up and down the stairs a bazillion times a day. Savannah's room, our room, the laundry nook, and kitchen are all within my view. I just have to stand in the middle of the apartment to see into (and most of) each area!
3. Less stuff. This is the one that has kept me thinking the past few days. If an interior decorator were to come to my living room, she would have a conniption; everything is mismatched. Dark wood desk and bookcase go together from our loft area in the house; cherry end table from living room; dark green couch; beige and honey wood glider from Savy's room; and big ol' TV on a small table that is older than Chaz--we sold our old TV stand that matched the desk and bookcase because we thought we wouldn't need it. I have no idea how to make the room easier on the eye.
So, if I can't change what we have then I am left with two options: complain for however long we live here (which could be years) and make my husband a grump who, in turn, complains to his buddies how ungrateful his wife is; or I can change my perspective.
You see, we really do miss our house. It was us and we worked hard to make it look beautiful and reflect our tastes. But a house and possessions cannot define a person. While this move was intended solely to save us money so that we could become better stewards, it is also forcing us (or me more accurately) to give up the cyclical doom of "keeping up with the Joneses." I am not saying that you could have put our lives in Pottery Barn catalog, but I was always keeping tabs on the lifestyles of my friends and acquaintances in Suburbia. In short, this move has been humbling in many ways. My favorite motto is "It could always be worse," and I certainly agree with that in this situation. We are so thankful for all that we have. But I need to face the fact that I've taken a big blow to my pride and to the control over my life that I once thought I had.
Jesus said, "Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" (Matthew 6:19-21). I'm beginning to see this verse in a new way. I can admit that my lifestyle, instead of my relationship with Christ, was beginning to define me--at least that was the thorn beginning to form in my heart. When I look at where my life is now, I am disappointed. I'm not sure what I thought my life would look like at this point, but it didn't look like this.
But God's perspective is vastly different. He sees what I cannot see--the treasures we are laying up in Heaven. While I look around and focus on mistakes and regrets, God sees this moment as a small blip on my lifeline. He looks ahead to the plans he has for me and my family. Will I choose to trust him and continue to walk forward with the knowledge that "all things work together for good for those who are called according to his purpose"? (Romans 8:28). The answer is simple: I must. When he called me to himself, he put that trust in me and has been helping me to discover it ever since. I have to remember that what I do does not matter unless I do it "all to the glory of God" (1 Cor. 10:31).
It's funny how things are so opposite in the Christian life. While my life might look like a mess on the outside, God is forming it into something that is greatly pleasing to him. Lord, help me believe.
1. Less to clean! Need I say more?
2. No need to run up and down the stairs a bazillion times a day. Savannah's room, our room, the laundry nook, and kitchen are all within my view. I just have to stand in the middle of the apartment to see into (and most of) each area!
3. Less stuff. This is the one that has kept me thinking the past few days. If an interior decorator were to come to my living room, she would have a conniption; everything is mismatched. Dark wood desk and bookcase go together from our loft area in the house; cherry end table from living room; dark green couch; beige and honey wood glider from Savy's room; and big ol' TV on a small table that is older than Chaz--we sold our old TV stand that matched the desk and bookcase because we thought we wouldn't need it. I have no idea how to make the room easier on the eye.
So, if I can't change what we have then I am left with two options: complain for however long we live here (which could be years) and make my husband a grump who, in turn, complains to his buddies how ungrateful his wife is; or I can change my perspective.
You see, we really do miss our house. It was us and we worked hard to make it look beautiful and reflect our tastes. But a house and possessions cannot define a person. While this move was intended solely to save us money so that we could become better stewards, it is also forcing us (or me more accurately) to give up the cyclical doom of "keeping up with the Joneses." I am not saying that you could have put our lives in Pottery Barn catalog, but I was always keeping tabs on the lifestyles of my friends and acquaintances in Suburbia. In short, this move has been humbling in many ways. My favorite motto is "It could always be worse," and I certainly agree with that in this situation. We are so thankful for all that we have. But I need to face the fact that I've taken a big blow to my pride and to the control over my life that I once thought I had.
Jesus said, "Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" (Matthew 6:19-21). I'm beginning to see this verse in a new way. I can admit that my lifestyle, instead of my relationship with Christ, was beginning to define me--at least that was the thorn beginning to form in my heart. When I look at where my life is now, I am disappointed. I'm not sure what I thought my life would look like at this point, but it didn't look like this.
But God's perspective is vastly different. He sees what I cannot see--the treasures we are laying up in Heaven. While I look around and focus on mistakes and regrets, God sees this moment as a small blip on my lifeline. He looks ahead to the plans he has for me and my family. Will I choose to trust him and continue to walk forward with the knowledge that "all things work together for good for those who are called according to his purpose"? (Romans 8:28). The answer is simple: I must. When he called me to himself, he put that trust in me and has been helping me to discover it ever since. I have to remember that what I do does not matter unless I do it "all to the glory of God" (1 Cor. 10:31).
It's funny how things are so opposite in the Christian life. While my life might look like a mess on the outside, God is forming it into something that is greatly pleasing to him. Lord, help me believe.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
out of control
A time I remember feeling utterly out of control and helpless was when my mom was going through her first rounds of chemo. We were staying with my grandparents and each had our own list of chores. My chore was to wash the dishes after breakfast each morning. One morning, however, I slept in and missed breakfast. My grandpa ended up doing the dishes for me.
I completely freaked out and locked myself in the bathroom. I turned on the water and the vent and crouched on the floor and cried. I literally thought I was going crazy. My mom knocked on the door gently to ask if I was okay, and of course I lied. I always went to her treatment with her, but on that day my mom said I should stay home and record "The Young and the Restless" so we could watch it later together.
I didn't figure it out until much later. The reason I broke down that day was because the one, albeit small, thing I could control was taken from me. The dishes were "my" responsibility, and I took care of them perfectly. My mom was sick, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. I could not make her feel better when she threw up; I could not keep her hair from falling out; and I could not, in any true sincerity, tell her that everything was going to be all right. I finally realized how fragile life was.
Several people I know, including myself, are dealing with uncontrollable illnesses in their families right now. Jesus is the One true Physician, and although my mom was sick until the very end, He welcomed her renewed in body and spirit into His kingdom. Please pray with me for family and friends who are dealing with illnesses. For those dealing with the illness, pray that God would show himself in the fullness of his grace to them through their illness. For family and friends, pray for the same thing. We all need the opportunity to see how fragile this life is and accept that there is One who will "wipe away every tear" and who is "making all things new" (Revelation 21:4-5).
I completely freaked out and locked myself in the bathroom. I turned on the water and the vent and crouched on the floor and cried. I literally thought I was going crazy. My mom knocked on the door gently to ask if I was okay, and of course I lied. I always went to her treatment with her, but on that day my mom said I should stay home and record "The Young and the Restless" so we could watch it later together.
I didn't figure it out until much later. The reason I broke down that day was because the one, albeit small, thing I could control was taken from me. The dishes were "my" responsibility, and I took care of them perfectly. My mom was sick, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. I could not make her feel better when she threw up; I could not keep her hair from falling out; and I could not, in any true sincerity, tell her that everything was going to be all right. I finally realized how fragile life was.
Several people I know, including myself, are dealing with uncontrollable illnesses in their families right now. Jesus is the One true Physician, and although my mom was sick until the very end, He welcomed her renewed in body and spirit into His kingdom. Please pray with me for family and friends who are dealing with illnesses. For those dealing with the illness, pray that God would show himself in the fullness of his grace to them through their illness. For family and friends, pray for the same thing. We all need the opportunity to see how fragile this life is and accept that there is One who will "wipe away every tear" and who is "making all things new" (Revelation 21:4-5).
Monday, September 5, 2011
war games
Do you ever feel like you are going insane? I have felt that way several times during the past few weeks. The stress of living out of our suitcases (or, rather, piles of clothes on a closet floor) will get to me in the most mundane moments of my day. For example: I walk upstairs for the umpteenth time to get a few diapers before I leave the house, but instead I go to the bathroom and then walk back downstairs sans diapers. For that little brain lapse I threw whatever was in my hand across the room... don't worry, it was just chap stick, not the baby.
Mostly I can look back on these moments (and trust me, the chap stick incident was tame compared to some of the others) and laugh at how silly and childish I behaved. But I think the Lord is trying to make me see these moments differently. My tolerance for anything that makes my life more inconvenient than it already is is very low which, in turn, makes my anger level high. The smallest things can throw me into a mini tantrum. I think that only my dog or Savannah and sometimes my husband see these tantrums, but when I added up all of these outbursts I noticed something big.
Sure the people who won't remember or who love me enough to forgive me see them, but God also sees, of course. But more importantly, what I realized is that even after I have recovered myself, that scar of anger is already there in my heart. I will always remember how good it felt to just let it out and not care who I affected. The problem is that all of those moments make up who I am--they mold my character. If I consistently and willingly allow myself to succumb to anger in a frustrating or overwhelming moment then that is my fault. It is not the fault of my circumstances--I am not a child.
The Lord continues to remind me to "take every thought captive to obey Christ" on a moment-to-moment basis, especially on bad days when I am frustrated by my lack of control (2 Corinthians 10:5). I am struck by the difficult work it takes to be a Christian and to fight these spiritual battles that most of us would rather ignore. We usually fight to change our circumstances, but we ignore the spiritual battles and deem them as something in that realm of the unreal. It is understandably difficult to even recognize the spiritual battles when our lives are lived in flesh and blood. But, of course, that is the Enemy's prerogative.
Paul, in defense of his ministry to the Corinthians, professes that "though we walk in the flesh, we are not waging war according to the flesh. For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ" (2 Cor. 10:3-5). Every battle is truly in the mind--between who we will allow to control it. Wayne A. Grudem writes in the easy-to-digest theology book Christian Beliefs that "those who believe in Jesus should realize that through death, Jesus nullified the power of [the Enemy]" (p.56). In Christ we have power and authority to fight these spiritual battles and should fight them, confident of what Christ has already accomplished.
So in those times of frustration and anger I should remind myself what is at stake: the very character that Christ has been forming in me from the moment he saved me. It is worth fighting for, especially when you are on the winning team. By allowing his peace to cover me each day, I bring honor to his name.
Mostly I can look back on these moments (and trust me, the chap stick incident was tame compared to some of the others) and laugh at how silly and childish I behaved. But I think the Lord is trying to make me see these moments differently. My tolerance for anything that makes my life more inconvenient than it already is is very low which, in turn, makes my anger level high. The smallest things can throw me into a mini tantrum. I think that only my dog or Savannah and sometimes my husband see these tantrums, but when I added up all of these outbursts I noticed something big.
Sure the people who won't remember or who love me enough to forgive me see them, but God also sees, of course. But more importantly, what I realized is that even after I have recovered myself, that scar of anger is already there in my heart. I will always remember how good it felt to just let it out and not care who I affected. The problem is that all of those moments make up who I am--they mold my character. If I consistently and willingly allow myself to succumb to anger in a frustrating or overwhelming moment then that is my fault. It is not the fault of my circumstances--I am not a child.
The Lord continues to remind me to "take every thought captive to obey Christ" on a moment-to-moment basis, especially on bad days when I am frustrated by my lack of control (2 Corinthians 10:5). I am struck by the difficult work it takes to be a Christian and to fight these spiritual battles that most of us would rather ignore. We usually fight to change our circumstances, but we ignore the spiritual battles and deem them as something in that realm of the unreal. It is understandably difficult to even recognize the spiritual battles when our lives are lived in flesh and blood. But, of course, that is the Enemy's prerogative.
Paul, in defense of his ministry to the Corinthians, professes that "though we walk in the flesh, we are not waging war according to the flesh. For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ" (2 Cor. 10:3-5). Every battle is truly in the mind--between who we will allow to control it. Wayne A. Grudem writes in the easy-to-digest theology book Christian Beliefs that "those who believe in Jesus should realize that through death, Jesus nullified the power of [the Enemy]" (p.56). In Christ we have power and authority to fight these spiritual battles and should fight them, confident of what Christ has already accomplished.
So in those times of frustration and anger I should remind myself what is at stake: the very character that Christ has been forming in me from the moment he saved me. It is worth fighting for, especially when you are on the winning team. By allowing his peace to cover me each day, I bring honor to his name.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Prince of Peace
I ended my last post by writing "I'm confused. And maybe that is exactly where the Lord wants me to be." Soooooooooooooo wrong! And so lacking in Biblical truth. Jesus Christ is the Prince of Peace not of confusion, worry, or doubt. He does not want me to be confused, but rather, willing.
The Lord wants much more from me than I have been willing to give him. I have allowed my mind to dwell in negativity, and I've indulged in bad habits. And my heart has been devastatingly resistant to anything but my own will. But last week God rescued me through a conversation and a little miracle.
Ever since we decided to wait it out for the house-sitting gig, I have forced my husband to put a date on how long we will wait. He never wanted to do it, but my relentless nagging beat him down. We decided on August 15th, which was actually too long for me. In an effort to get him to change his mind and get on "my" side, I have discussed over and over how long he thinks we can live like this and so on.
Last Tuesday, I called a friend who is going through a similar situation and asked her perspective. She said, "I can't believe you would close the door for God." I didn't expect that response, but I knew she was right. Later that day as I looked for a Bible, I found a devotional a friend had told me about titled Jesus Calling. I had been wanting to get it and here it was at the house where I was staying. I read that day's devotion, and it was good but didn't speak to me. Something told me to go back two days to the date my friend told me about the book. I read the first two sentences and started bawling. "Trust in Me, not in your own understanding." I have heard it so many times. The remainder was about how humans spend so much time trying to figure out the next "thing" instead of resting in and trusting the Lord. I felt Jesus speaking directly to me.
Sometimes we need to ask forgiveness for not going to God when we are in stressful times and allow our minds to go places we know we shouldn't. I'm not saying I should be strong and not allow myself to cry or worry about our situation. But every time I let those times go by without crying out to my Lord, I believe that is sin. I'm indulging in my bad feelings and ignoring God because I just don't feel like talking to him. I asked forgiveness, asked why he keeps loving me and being so patient with me, and then I felt peace.
The next day was hard, but I called on Him and my husband came to my side in prayer to fight for me. I realized that it wasn't about the house anymore or where we would end up. It was about faith. Not even faith that God would get this house for us, but faith that he would provide for us. Faith that if I called out to him in a moment of desperation, he would direct my thoughts and cover me in peace. He brought me to a place where I had zero control and everything around me reminded me of that. If I did not surrender control to him, I would have broken... and not in a good way.
The following day we found out that we would not be able to house-sit for the family. Chaz and I both are at peace with the situation and glad that we finally have a direct answer. Of course we are disappointed, but we are resting in the surety that God is taking us somewhere good. We are moving into a nice and very small apartment near most of our friends on September 9, right in time for football season (go Pack!). In the meantime we will still be staying with our amazingly generous and loving friends.
There will still be bad moments and days until we get our lives together. But while I don't have my life together, I know that God has. It is resting securely in his mighty and competent hands. And today, I'm okay with that.
The Lord wants much more from me than I have been willing to give him. I have allowed my mind to dwell in negativity, and I've indulged in bad habits. And my heart has been devastatingly resistant to anything but my own will. But last week God rescued me through a conversation and a little miracle.
Ever since we decided to wait it out for the house-sitting gig, I have forced my husband to put a date on how long we will wait. He never wanted to do it, but my relentless nagging beat him down. We decided on August 15th, which was actually too long for me. In an effort to get him to change his mind and get on "my" side, I have discussed over and over how long he thinks we can live like this and so on.
Last Tuesday, I called a friend who is going through a similar situation and asked her perspective. She said, "I can't believe you would close the door for God." I didn't expect that response, but I knew she was right. Later that day as I looked for a Bible, I found a devotional a friend had told me about titled Jesus Calling. I had been wanting to get it and here it was at the house where I was staying. I read that day's devotion, and it was good but didn't speak to me. Something told me to go back two days to the date my friend told me about the book. I read the first two sentences and started bawling. "Trust in Me, not in your own understanding." I have heard it so many times. The remainder was about how humans spend so much time trying to figure out the next "thing" instead of resting in and trusting the Lord. I felt Jesus speaking directly to me.
Sometimes we need to ask forgiveness for not going to God when we are in stressful times and allow our minds to go places we know we shouldn't. I'm not saying I should be strong and not allow myself to cry or worry about our situation. But every time I let those times go by without crying out to my Lord, I believe that is sin. I'm indulging in my bad feelings and ignoring God because I just don't feel like talking to him. I asked forgiveness, asked why he keeps loving me and being so patient with me, and then I felt peace.
The next day was hard, but I called on Him and my husband came to my side in prayer to fight for me. I realized that it wasn't about the house anymore or where we would end up. It was about faith. Not even faith that God would get this house for us, but faith that he would provide for us. Faith that if I called out to him in a moment of desperation, he would direct my thoughts and cover me in peace. He brought me to a place where I had zero control and everything around me reminded me of that. If I did not surrender control to him, I would have broken... and not in a good way.
The following day we found out that we would not be able to house-sit for the family. Chaz and I both are at peace with the situation and glad that we finally have a direct answer. Of course we are disappointed, but we are resting in the surety that God is taking us somewhere good. We are moving into a nice and very small apartment near most of our friends on September 9, right in time for football season (go Pack!). In the meantime we will still be staying with our amazingly generous and loving friends.
There will still be bad moments and days until we get our lives together. But while I don't have my life together, I know that God has. It is resting securely in his mighty and competent hands. And today, I'm okay with that.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
bleh...
So, I've been waiting to post again until I had an update to give. However, we still have not heard any news about the house, hence this post's title. It pretty much describes my mood this past week. As my husband said, "My, my, you're a pleasure!" Yes, we are quite sarcastic with one another.
We have been living with some friends, and they have been wonderful, sharing their home, refrigerator, and lives with us. But I, in my heart at least, have been a bundle of nerves. My anxiety level is high. My stuff isn't where it's supposed to be! My routine and schedule have been hijacked! I am simply not myself, and it feels like I am falling apart. But God is gracious and he hasn't allowed that to happen yet.
I will admit that I've given up on the possibility of house-sitting. It's taking too much out of me to keep hoping for it. I just want a place to call our own. And I wish I knew what the purpose of all this is, but sometimes I wonder if I'm trying to make something of nothing. We chose to wait for this house. Did we just make the wrong choice? Or is it just a choice? Is there no right and wrong, at least in this situation? My husband pointed out the other day that maybe he had been guilty of pride by thinking he knew what God was up to. If we do A and B, then he will deliver C. After all, hasn't he always done that in our lives?
I think that when we look back on our lives, we can make out a sort of pattern for how God works--meaning how he guides us each in our individual lives. But is that a pattern we see only because we need patterns and routine? Is our God not much more profound than the boundaries of our imaginations?
As is most likely obvious, I don't know what to make of this time. I'm confused. And maybe that is exactly where the Lord wants me to be.
We have been living with some friends, and they have been wonderful, sharing their home, refrigerator, and lives with us. But I, in my heart at least, have been a bundle of nerves. My anxiety level is high. My stuff isn't where it's supposed to be! My routine and schedule have been hijacked! I am simply not myself, and it feels like I am falling apart. But God is gracious and he hasn't allowed that to happen yet.
I will admit that I've given up on the possibility of house-sitting. It's taking too much out of me to keep hoping for it. I just want a place to call our own. And I wish I knew what the purpose of all this is, but sometimes I wonder if I'm trying to make something of nothing. We chose to wait for this house. Did we just make the wrong choice? Or is it just a choice? Is there no right and wrong, at least in this situation? My husband pointed out the other day that maybe he had been guilty of pride by thinking he knew what God was up to. If we do A and B, then he will deliver C. After all, hasn't he always done that in our lives?
I think that when we look back on our lives, we can make out a sort of pattern for how God works--meaning how he guides us each in our individual lives. But is that a pattern we see only because we need patterns and routine? Is our God not much more profound than the boundaries of our imaginations?
As is most likely obvious, I don't know what to make of this time. I'm confused. And maybe that is exactly where the Lord wants me to be.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
leap of faith
We have ten days to be out of our house and we don't know where we are going.
A few weeks ago, Chaz and I were apartment hunting. We found a great apartment at a great price. The deal seemed perfect. But while we were waiting for them to approve our credit and run background checks, I had a strong urge to pray for a greater blessing.
I'll try to make this simple. A friend of a friend will most likely be moving out of state for work in the next few weeks. This person works for a certain government-funded organization that is pretty big in Houston (I'm guessing you can figure it out). He and his family are waiting to hear from work when they will be moving. Thus far, the dates have been pushed around a few times, and they are just waiting for the word "go" so that they can find a home out of state. Here's the part where we come in: they will only be gone for a year or two and want someone to house-sit for them while they are gone. They will only be asking these people to pay utilities--no mortgage, no rent. They would like us to do that favor for them.
I'd heard about this opportunity and given this guy a call while we were apartment hunting, but almost a week went by and we hadn't heard from them. We decided to move forward with the nice apartment I mentioned above. I was content with our decision, but a feeling of... I'm not sure what... was growing. I opened my Bible to Daniel. Daniel prayed an amazing prayer of faith on behalf of his people, the Israelites. The people had disobeyed God time and time again, and God had allowed them to become captives of Babylon for decades. Daniel prays that God will grant his people mercy. Here are his eloquent words: "O my God, incline your ear and hear. Open your eyes and see our desolations, and the city that is called by your name. For we do not present our pleas before you because of our righteousness, but because of your great mercy" (Daniel 9:18). I felt a common ground in this. We had also sinned in our mishandling of our money--the money God had given us. We have made unwise decisions and are now paying for that. But in my guilt I had forgotten about my merciful God who blesses us when we do not deserve it.
So I prayed Daniel's prayer. I knew that if God wanted to give us this amazing blessing, he would do it. Not because we deserved it, but because he is so merciful. Two days later I got the call I had been waiting for.
Now we are in a state of limbo. The family, while they would like for us to take care of their home while they are gone, still does not know for sure when they will be moving. There is even a slight possibility that they will not move at all. We need to begin moving out this weekend. I have been an emotional wreck over this entire ordeal, and now not knowing what will happen is just about to wreck me. We could very well still get that apartment I mentioned earlier. That would be the logical decision, the safe decision. But as much as I want to go the safe route, I know that I would be trusting in myself and not in my God. I left the decision to Chaz, and his faith is unwavering. He feels that God would bless us if we can just trust and be patient.
So, we are going to wait. We will most likely be "homeless" for a week or longer until we can move into their house. But we are blessed with amazing friends who have offered up their extra rooms for us (yeah, we might actually take you up on that offer!). And yes, we may not even receive this blessing. They may not move and we'll have to find an apartment. However, if we do not move forward in faith, we could very well miss out on a huge blessing--something that we never considered when we decided to lease our house. Please pray for us as we take this leap of faith, and pray for me, that like the father of the boy with the unclean spirit I would cry out each day, "I believe; help my unbelief!" (Mark 9:24).
A few weeks ago, Chaz and I were apartment hunting. We found a great apartment at a great price. The deal seemed perfect. But while we were waiting for them to approve our credit and run background checks, I had a strong urge to pray for a greater blessing.
I'll try to make this simple. A friend of a friend will most likely be moving out of state for work in the next few weeks. This person works for a certain government-funded organization that is pretty big in Houston (I'm guessing you can figure it out). He and his family are waiting to hear from work when they will be moving. Thus far, the dates have been pushed around a few times, and they are just waiting for the word "go" so that they can find a home out of state. Here's the part where we come in: they will only be gone for a year or two and want someone to house-sit for them while they are gone. They will only be asking these people to pay utilities--no mortgage, no rent. They would like us to do that favor for them.
I'd heard about this opportunity and given this guy a call while we were apartment hunting, but almost a week went by and we hadn't heard from them. We decided to move forward with the nice apartment I mentioned above. I was content with our decision, but a feeling of... I'm not sure what... was growing. I opened my Bible to Daniel. Daniel prayed an amazing prayer of faith on behalf of his people, the Israelites. The people had disobeyed God time and time again, and God had allowed them to become captives of Babylon for decades. Daniel prays that God will grant his people mercy. Here are his eloquent words: "O my God, incline your ear and hear. Open your eyes and see our desolations, and the city that is called by your name. For we do not present our pleas before you because of our righteousness, but because of your great mercy" (Daniel 9:18). I felt a common ground in this. We had also sinned in our mishandling of our money--the money God had given us. We have made unwise decisions and are now paying for that. But in my guilt I had forgotten about my merciful God who blesses us when we do not deserve it.
So I prayed Daniel's prayer. I knew that if God wanted to give us this amazing blessing, he would do it. Not because we deserved it, but because he is so merciful. Two days later I got the call I had been waiting for.
Now we are in a state of limbo. The family, while they would like for us to take care of their home while they are gone, still does not know for sure when they will be moving. There is even a slight possibility that they will not move at all. We need to begin moving out this weekend. I have been an emotional wreck over this entire ordeal, and now not knowing what will happen is just about to wreck me. We could very well still get that apartment I mentioned earlier. That would be the logical decision, the safe decision. But as much as I want to go the safe route, I know that I would be trusting in myself and not in my God. I left the decision to Chaz, and his faith is unwavering. He feels that God would bless us if we can just trust and be patient.
So, we are going to wait. We will most likely be "homeless" for a week or longer until we can move into their house. But we are blessed with amazing friends who have offered up their extra rooms for us (yeah, we might actually take you up on that offer!). And yes, we may not even receive this blessing. They may not move and we'll have to find an apartment. However, if we do not move forward in faith, we could very well miss out on a huge blessing--something that we never considered when we decided to lease our house. Please pray for us as we take this leap of faith, and pray for me, that like the father of the boy with the unclean spirit I would cry out each day, "I believe; help my unbelief!" (Mark 9:24).
Thursday, June 30, 2011
debt and grace
So, I've been thinking a lot about debt lately. In my last post I announced that we are selling our house to help relieve our debt problem. On the advice of our Realtor, we are going to lease the house until we will be able to move back in (in three to four years after we pay off our student loans). We've been apartment hunting and let me tell you, it's a kick in our pride pants. Quite humbling. We aren't looking at the fancy apartments of our past, but the ones that will really help us to save the kind of money we need to save in order to pay off our debt. It just ain't pretty.
Now that D-Day is approaching (which is August 1, the day the tenant moves into our house), I'm getting pretty depressed about the whole ordeal.
My thoughts recently have pretty much revolved around this. I keep comparing our situation to that of friends who made better financial choices, and I just beat myself up with "if only..."
As my thoughts wander (I have a lot of time to think while I'm breastfeeding), I sometimes dream of the "ultimate" situation in which we could move into a sweet apartment and keep all of our stuff and then get our student loans paid off super fast so that we could move back into our house in just a couple of years instead of four. But my conclusion is always "Why would we be blessed like that when we have been so negligent?" Basically, we don't deserve that kind of blessing. We had our time to do things the right way, and we didn't. Now we'll just have to work with what we can, do what we can do, and be open to learning what God has in store for us.
But God always shows me his perspective. I was playing with Savannah yesterday when it clicked. I was having one of those parental moments in which you stare at your child in awe of how amazing he/she is. God plainly told me that I AM blessed. As in the present--I am currently being blessed. My marriage is a blessing. My child--just her mere existence--is a blessing. My family and incredible friends are all blessings in my life. And most importantly my salvation is a blessing. When I think about how Jesus' sacrifice covers my sins--really think about it--I don't understand it. Why would God choose to do that? Why would he sacrifice his son to save me? When I slam the steering wheel in anger at the long red light, I am reminded of my sin. When I speak condescendingly to my husband, I am reminded of my sin. When I laugh along with a comedian's racial/sexual/immoral joke, I am reminded of my sin. His sacrifice far exceeds the debt I owe. I certainly do not deserve Christ's sacrifice, but I know I am blessed beyond measure to have received it.
In the past three months, I have realized that I will never, in any way, ever be able to express to Savannah how much I love her. I doubt she will ever know the extent to which I love her until she has her own child. I can glimpse God's perspective in this--how his love far exceeds anything we can ever fathom. Those who believe in him are "sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, who is the down payment of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it" (Ephesians 1:13-14). And when I get bogged down in the mundane, worrying about my situation, I can look at the Cross and sing with thankfulness that he has showered me with his grace.
lyrics by Shane and Shane
Now that D-Day is approaching (which is August 1, the day the tenant moves into our house), I'm getting pretty depressed about the whole ordeal.
My thoughts recently have pretty much revolved around this. I keep comparing our situation to that of friends who made better financial choices, and I just beat myself up with "if only..."
As my thoughts wander (I have a lot of time to think while I'm breastfeeding), I sometimes dream of the "ultimate" situation in which we could move into a sweet apartment and keep all of our stuff and then get our student loans paid off super fast so that we could move back into our house in just a couple of years instead of four. But my conclusion is always "Why would we be blessed like that when we have been so negligent?" Basically, we don't deserve that kind of blessing. We had our time to do things the right way, and we didn't. Now we'll just have to work with what we can, do what we can do, and be open to learning what God has in store for us.
But God always shows me his perspective. I was playing with Savannah yesterday when it clicked. I was having one of those parental moments in which you stare at your child in awe of how amazing he/she is. God plainly told me that I AM blessed. As in the present--I am currently being blessed. My marriage is a blessing. My child--just her mere existence--is a blessing. My family and incredible friends are all blessings in my life. And most importantly my salvation is a blessing. When I think about how Jesus' sacrifice covers my sins--really think about it--I don't understand it. Why would God choose to do that? Why would he sacrifice his son to save me? When I slam the steering wheel in anger at the long red light, I am reminded of my sin. When I speak condescendingly to my husband, I am reminded of my sin. When I laugh along with a comedian's racial/sexual/immoral joke, I am reminded of my sin. His sacrifice far exceeds the debt I owe. I certainly do not deserve Christ's sacrifice, but I know I am blessed beyond measure to have received it.
In the past three months, I have realized that I will never, in any way, ever be able to express to Savannah how much I love her. I doubt she will ever know the extent to which I love her until she has her own child. I can glimpse God's perspective in this--how his love far exceeds anything we can ever fathom. Those who believe in him are "sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, who is the down payment of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it" (Ephesians 1:13-14). And when I get bogged down in the mundane, worrying about my situation, I can look at the Cross and sing with thankfulness that he has showered me with his grace.
Before the throne of God above
I have a strong, a perfect plea:
A great High Priest, whose name is Love,
Who ever lives and pleads for me.
My name is graven on his hands,
My name is written on his heart;
I know that while in heaven he stands
No tongue can bid me thence depart
No tongue can bid me thence depart.
When Satan tempts me to despair,
And tells me of the guilt within,
Upward I look, and see him there
Who made an end of all my sin.
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/s/shane_and_shane/before_the_throne_of_god_above.html ]
Because a sinless Savior died,
My sinful soul is counted free;
For God, the Just, is satisfied
To look on Him and pardon me
To look on Him and pardon me
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Praise the One,
Risen Son of God!
Behold him there, the risen Lamb
My perfect, spotless righteousness,
The great unchangeable I am,
The King of glory and of grace!
One in himself, I cannot die
My soul is purchased by his blood
My life is hid with Christ on high,
With Christ, my Savior and my God
With Christ, my Savior and my God
I have a strong, a perfect plea:
A great High Priest, whose name is Love,
Who ever lives and pleads for me.
My name is graven on his hands,
My name is written on his heart;
I know that while in heaven he stands
No tongue can bid me thence depart
No tongue can bid me thence depart.
When Satan tempts me to despair,
And tells me of the guilt within,
Upward I look, and see him there
Who made an end of all my sin.
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/s/shane_and_shane/before_the_throne_of_god_above.html ]
Because a sinless Savior died,
My sinful soul is counted free;
For God, the Just, is satisfied
To look on Him and pardon me
To look on Him and pardon me
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Praise the One,
Risen Son of God!
Behold him there, the risen Lamb
My perfect, spotless righteousness,
The great unchangeable I am,
The King of glory and of grace!
One in himself, I cannot die
My soul is purchased by his blood
My life is hid with Christ on high,
With Christ, my Savior and my God
With Christ, my Savior and my God
lyrics by Shane and Shane
Friday, June 17, 2011
a different kind of american dream
We're moving on down... to the east side... to a mediocre apartment... on the first floor. It doesn't quite sound as celebratory as the theme song from "The Jeffersons," but at this point I can't be picky.
Yes, we are moving. Selling the old homestead. Now for the lengthy explanation.
I'll start by saying that if you are in the market for buying a house, please, please learn from our mistakes!! Wide-eyed, with a bank account full of new money from a sale on Chaz's flipped store (Lenny's), we embarked on our adventure. We were the only couple in our close group of friends that weren't homeowners, and we let that play with our emotions (mistake #1). On our first day of house-hunting, we fell in love with a little country house on Country Glen. I loved it as soon as we walked in the door. Hardwood floors in the living room, vaulted ceiling, big windows, and a little Tiffany light fixture hanging from the wood-paneled ceiling under the loft. LOVE! It had character, like us. 3 bedrooms, 2.5 baths and room for the 2.5 kids we planned to have. Perfect. And the back yard... don't get me started. I'm not even going to write about it.
Oh, there's more. 2 car payments. Loads on student loans. Not enough to make that 20% down payment (this was 2008 when they were handing out loans like Air Heads, pun intended)...(oh, and mistake #2). But let's think logically here--we were making an investment! Our apartment (fancy shmancy, by the way) was about to go up on rent. We'd be cramped and paying only a couple hundred less than a mortgage. On the other hand, we could have a whole house for our animals to run around in. Hello?? Where's the problem?
Well, the problem was that we simply didn't plan ahead. Even though we had talked about me being a stay-at-home mom someday, we weren't thinking about it. I definitely wasn't in the mindset of becoming pregnant, and I loved my job. Chaz's five-year plan was gaining traction. We were really making it. But our biggest mistake was that we didn't plan on one important thing. LIFE. It happens. Chaz lost his job, career, five-year plan. I began to loathe going to work each day and wondered what I was supposed to do.
We know now. That thing we had talked about even before we were married--me staying home with our kids--is happening. I can't imagine doing anything else. And I will advocate that it CAN be done! Naysayers will argue that you can't have a decent lifestyle on one income. I argue that you can as long as you plan on it. So now we are backtracking on the typical American dream. We're ditching the perfect house on the perfect cul-de-sac for a 2 bedroom apartment in order to dig ourselves out of debt. I grew up living on a "month-to-month" income. I can remember times when we didn't know where we were going to live. I remember going to the food pantry. It's not the life I wanted for my kids. So we are making this sacrifice now, saving the moolah on our mortgage and rolling it all toward our smallest debt so we can attack it with gazelle-like intensity. Then in three to four years we will be able to pursue home ownership again.
You see, my American dream has to change. Racking up tons of debt and living from month-to-month so we can have something we can't afford anymore isn't working for us. Paranoia is not a peaceful state of mind. Sure, my going back to work would solve some of our financial woes. But like I said in my last post, I know God has called me to stay at home with my child. And really we could have solved our financial woes long ago by heeding the Proverb "the rich rules over the poor, and the borrower is slave to the lender" (22:7). There's more like that in the Bible. Why didn't we look at the ultimate instruction manual? Maybe we just didn't want to.
What we are doing is nothing heroic. We are just trying to make up for the poor decisions we made. And when I look at my little Savannah, I know it is and will always be worth it.
Yes, we are moving. Selling the old homestead. Now for the lengthy explanation.
I'll start by saying that if you are in the market for buying a house, please, please learn from our mistakes!! Wide-eyed, with a bank account full of new money from a sale on Chaz's flipped store (Lenny's), we embarked on our adventure. We were the only couple in our close group of friends that weren't homeowners, and we let that play with our emotions (mistake #1). On our first day of house-hunting, we fell in love with a little country house on Country Glen. I loved it as soon as we walked in the door. Hardwood floors in the living room, vaulted ceiling, big windows, and a little Tiffany light fixture hanging from the wood-paneled ceiling under the loft. LOVE! It had character, like us. 3 bedrooms, 2.5 baths and room for the 2.5 kids we planned to have. Perfect. And the back yard... don't get me started. I'm not even going to write about it.
Oh, there's more. 2 car payments. Loads on student loans. Not enough to make that 20% down payment (this was 2008 when they were handing out loans like Air Heads, pun intended)...(oh, and mistake #2). But let's think logically here--we were making an investment! Our apartment (fancy shmancy, by the way) was about to go up on rent. We'd be cramped and paying only a couple hundred less than a mortgage. On the other hand, we could have a whole house for our animals to run around in. Hello?? Where's the problem?
Well, the problem was that we simply didn't plan ahead. Even though we had talked about me being a stay-at-home mom someday, we weren't thinking about it. I definitely wasn't in the mindset of becoming pregnant, and I loved my job. Chaz's five-year plan was gaining traction. We were really making it. But our biggest mistake was that we didn't plan on one important thing. LIFE. It happens. Chaz lost his job, career, five-year plan. I began to loathe going to work each day and wondered what I was supposed to do.
We know now. That thing we had talked about even before we were married--me staying home with our kids--is happening. I can't imagine doing anything else. And I will advocate that it CAN be done! Naysayers will argue that you can't have a decent lifestyle on one income. I argue that you can as long as you plan on it. So now we are backtracking on the typical American dream. We're ditching the perfect house on the perfect cul-de-sac for a 2 bedroom apartment in order to dig ourselves out of debt. I grew up living on a "month-to-month" income. I can remember times when we didn't know where we were going to live. I remember going to the food pantry. It's not the life I wanted for my kids. So we are making this sacrifice now, saving the moolah on our mortgage and rolling it all toward our smallest debt so we can attack it with gazelle-like intensity. Then in three to four years we will be able to pursue home ownership again.
You see, my American dream has to change. Racking up tons of debt and living from month-to-month so we can have something we can't afford anymore isn't working for us. Paranoia is not a peaceful state of mind. Sure, my going back to work would solve some of our financial woes. But like I said in my last post, I know God has called me to stay at home with my child. And really we could have solved our financial woes long ago by heeding the Proverb "the rich rules over the poor, and the borrower is slave to the lender" (22:7). There's more like that in the Bible. Why didn't we look at the ultimate instruction manual? Maybe we just didn't want to.
What we are doing is nothing heroic. We are just trying to make up for the poor decisions we made. And when I look at my little Savannah, I know it is and will always be worth it.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
servant
I've been stagnant for too long. Sure, I just had a kid, yeah I know. But I'm talking about spiritual stagnation. God has done so much work in my life these past couple years especially, but what have I done? I have allowed him to work, sure, but isn't there supposed to be more than that? What have I done for him? I've gotta say, not a whole lot.
What I realized is that my daughter is the one who is prompting these feelings. Nobody can tell you about the weight of responsibility you feel after having a child. I'm supposed to be a role model for her--the model of what a woman who loves Christ looks like. That's crazy! Sure she's just an infant... so I should give myself a break. I've got at least a year before she starts really watching me, right? Well, maybe, but I'm sure it will be better to get into the practice of godliness now.
The truth is my God has done enough for me already. Not only did Christ die for me, but he has imparted grace and knowledge to me by stretching and growing me. Being patient with me--being a parent to me. Now it is my time--not to do life on my own, but to serve God by serving others with the grace and knowledge he has given me. The one big area that I have lacked in servant-hood is in my relationship with my husband.
Oh, this is hard. It's hard not only to realize it but to admit it and put it out there. So God's design for marriage is that the husband leads his wife and she submits to him. And if the husband is the leader then that makes HIM ultimately the one responsible for his family to God. If God says, "Hey, you messed up here" then that is the husband's bad, not the wife's. This is demonstrated in the first marriage relationship of Adam and Eve. Even though it was Eve who first took of the forbidden fruit, God sought out Adam to explain what happened. So it should be comforting to me, as a wife, to know that God holds my husband responsible for our family. But it doesn't.
God cursed Eve (and therefore all women) saying, "Your desire shall be for your husband, and he shall rule over you" Gen. 3:16. I desire his role of authority but don't want the responsibility of it, just as Eve blamed the serpent for deceiving her rather than taking the responsibility for disobeying God as she did (Gen. 3:13). If I am to be honest with myself and before God I must admit that I have never fully given the reigns of responsibility to my husband because I am afraid to give up that control. In essence I have not fully trusted God in handling my marriage because I have not completely trusted my husband.
In the past year God has called me to trust him again and again without knowing what the future holds (I think that's the definition of faith). He called me to quit my job. He called me to believe that he would give me a child even in my desperate, dark moments of doubt. And he has shown me why he asked those things of me. I know I'm supposed to be a stay-at-home mom. Surprisingly, though, I'm finding that it's not just about being there to raise my daughter. It's about me giving up the control and fulfillment I found in providing financially for our family. It's about totally trusting that my husband will provide for us. It's about making sacrifices in the way that we live so that I can obey God's call on my life. It's not about others changing, it's about me changing. And it is HARD!
I'd like to think that God would give me a break for a few years. Just let me sip tea on the front porch swing and take a load off. But he's not about that. He is about "testing [our] faith" to "produce steadfastness" or consistency and faithfulness (James 1:2). If I expect my life to change, I've gotta move out of the way and let my Lord work in me. The best way for me to do that is to be a servant.
What I realized is that my daughter is the one who is prompting these feelings. Nobody can tell you about the weight of responsibility you feel after having a child. I'm supposed to be a role model for her--the model of what a woman who loves Christ looks like. That's crazy! Sure she's just an infant... so I should give myself a break. I've got at least a year before she starts really watching me, right? Well, maybe, but I'm sure it will be better to get into the practice of godliness now.
The truth is my God has done enough for me already. Not only did Christ die for me, but he has imparted grace and knowledge to me by stretching and growing me. Being patient with me--being a parent to me. Now it is my time--not to do life on my own, but to serve God by serving others with the grace and knowledge he has given me. The one big area that I have lacked in servant-hood is in my relationship with my husband.
Oh, this is hard. It's hard not only to realize it but to admit it and put it out there. So God's design for marriage is that the husband leads his wife and she submits to him. And if the husband is the leader then that makes HIM ultimately the one responsible for his family to God. If God says, "Hey, you messed up here" then that is the husband's bad, not the wife's. This is demonstrated in the first marriage relationship of Adam and Eve. Even though it was Eve who first took of the forbidden fruit, God sought out Adam to explain what happened. So it should be comforting to me, as a wife, to know that God holds my husband responsible for our family. But it doesn't.
God cursed Eve (and therefore all women) saying, "Your desire shall be for your husband, and he shall rule over you" Gen. 3:16. I desire his role of authority but don't want the responsibility of it, just as Eve blamed the serpent for deceiving her rather than taking the responsibility for disobeying God as she did (Gen. 3:13). If I am to be honest with myself and before God I must admit that I have never fully given the reigns of responsibility to my husband because I am afraid to give up that control. In essence I have not fully trusted God in handling my marriage because I have not completely trusted my husband.
In the past year God has called me to trust him again and again without knowing what the future holds (I think that's the definition of faith). He called me to quit my job. He called me to believe that he would give me a child even in my desperate, dark moments of doubt. And he has shown me why he asked those things of me. I know I'm supposed to be a stay-at-home mom. Surprisingly, though, I'm finding that it's not just about being there to raise my daughter. It's about me giving up the control and fulfillment I found in providing financially for our family. It's about totally trusting that my husband will provide for us. It's about making sacrifices in the way that we live so that I can obey God's call on my life. It's not about others changing, it's about me changing. And it is HARD!
I'd like to think that God would give me a break for a few years. Just let me sip tea on the front porch swing and take a load off. But he's not about that. He is about "testing [our] faith" to "produce steadfastness" or consistency and faithfulness (James 1:2). If I expect my life to change, I've gotta move out of the way and let my Lord work in me. The best way for me to do that is to be a servant.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
mid-life crisis
A year ago I quit my job of five years as a high school English teacher in order to pursue something that I loved. The crazy part is that I had no idea what I loved. I just knew that teaching English was no longer something I felt passionate about. At the time my life was pretty crappy around the edges: Chaz and I were experiencing our first marriage strains and a chronic illness was keeping me from getting pregnant. I prayed for quite a long time about it, and in my heart I knew that moving on was exactly what God wanted me to do. It felt crazy, like jumping from a cliff with no parachute. I had no plans for a job and no true interests in a new career. I just knew I had to move. I remember being on my knees in my bathroom promising the Lord that I would trust him as I moved forward with no plans. Terror and peace fought for control daily.
One year later I sit at my computer typing as my two-month-old daughter sleeps in her infant seat beside me. The hope of becoming a mother was always in the heart of those prayers a year ago, hoping that God was telling me to move because part of his plans for me included motherhood. I have exactly what I wanted. I look at my daughter and I feel an overwhelming sense of love, but the thing I thought I'd feel--completeness--isn't there. I know by now that the sense of always chasing something, always wanting more is part of our humanly "flesh" nature and that once we achieve that goal or get that thing we want we enjoy it for a time and then quickly move on to the next want. But right now the existentialism is overwhelming. The dreaded and overused "Who am I?" is pounding at my front door each time I open my eyes in the morning. Yes, I am a child of God. Yes, I am a new creation in Christ.
But why in the world can't he just give me a straightforward job description?!
Nobody told me that this disconnection from self and God came along with becoming a parent. Or is it just me? I'd like to wallow in self-pity and dissolution and whine about my lack of motivation and ask God why he won't fix me. But I know that any passion that's worthwhile is the passion for Christ and his word and his work. You don't get to be existential when you know God's word. In his classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest, Oswald Chambers writes, "If we continually try to bring back those exceptional moments of inspiration, it is a sign that it is not God we want. We are becoming obsessed with the moments when God did come and speak with us, and we are insisting that He do it again. But what God wants us to do is to 'walk by faith'."
In all honesty, I didn't know the answer when I began writing this post. But God reminded me. Just like anything that's worthwhile--marriage, parenthood, a good book--lapses in excitement and questions of "Do I want to keep on?" come from time to time. I feel that it's also part of the Christian walk. With all the books and sermons on the topic of passion I assume it's a given. What it comes down to is always the same. Trust. On that bathroom floor a year ago, I told God I would trust him. I know I can trust him still--to spark passion for him again, to spark a passion for something in life with which he has gifted me. To exchange "Who am I?" for "I trust you."
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
eleven years
I've been a mother for just over six weeks, and in those six weeks I've experienced an upheaval of emotions that I had not expected. We, my husband and I, received all of the well-intentioned "advice" from friends and strangers: "You're life will never be the same," "Don't worry, it'll get better," and our favorite, "Get plenty of sleep while you can!" While that last phrase truly has no merit as I was suffering from heartburn and hot flashes at the end of my pregnancy, the other two always made me think. I wondered just what each person meant when they said it. What point of view, what experiences had flavored that hackneyed phrase? Looking back, I wish that I had interviewed each person who spoke one of those phrases to me and found out exactly what it meant to them. But would anyone really want to tell me...
These past six weeks have been the most challenging of my life. The physical pain and recovery from childbirth coupled with the surges and drops in hormones and the broken moments of both fear of failure and being incompetent and the overwhelming joy of this new life make a person almost crazy. By the end of two weeks I didn't recognize myself. But as with all things time and routine heal, and my daughter, Savannah, and myself began to form a relationship without words. Touching, looking, and intuition are languages that I am just now beginning to truly explore. My daughter has provided a spring of life that I could not have anticipated.
I think the things they don't tell you are somewhat inexpressible, and that is why this journey of parenthood is so varied and rich. I began writing this inaugural post yesterday, the eleven-year anniversary of my mom's passing. Each year the dull ache becomes fainter, even on holidays like Christmas (usually my worst) and Mother's Day. But this year is different. This year I can finally begin to experience what my mother deemed her greatest joy. She only got seventeen years to be a mom. She was not a cut-out-of-a-magazine mom, but her life and death made me who I am. She taught me many things and a lot of what not to do, but mostly she taught me how to love. Without holding back. I've only truly been able to express that kind of love within the past few years and I'm still learning and stretching. The hardest thing, the thing nobody can tell you, is how hard you fall when you look at your own child. As I rocked Savannah she gazed up at me with the oxytocin-induced lull of sleep and I smiled at the ease of her life and whispered and thank-you in her ear. Thank you for allowing me to be a mother. Thank you to my Lord who gives and takes mercifully, omnisciently, and who will not let me make a mistake without being by my side. Thank you, thank you that in these eleven years I have not crumbled under the weight of loss nor barricaded myself against love and light. Thank you, my God, for making all things new.
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