"Don't be so hard on yourself"

I think I just found the perfect pencil sharpener! This one is portable, retro, and heavy-duty all in one. It creates the long sharp tip I long for in a sharp pencil, and with its built-in grip/guide, it won't just keep chewing your pencil but stops when it's sharp. I'm getting one for our portable homeschool tote so we can finally quit wasting time rounding up shoddy pencil sharpeners that chew up the tips and leave us with loose leads. This sharpener does the job. I'm in love.

http://www.classroomfriendlysupplies.com/products/classroom-friendly-pencil-sharpener

This video clip of my pastor (before his brain tumor was discovered) describes a common response to suffering. Matt is currently undergoing treatment for aggressive brain cancer (see AP news article here for the full story). His life in suffering bears out what he preached week after week before, when all was well. I am amazed to be here watching it firsthand. This guy is legit. May people hear his story and see the beauty of God more clearly as a result.

Christmas quandry

The following is a quote from Robert MacColl Adams (1913-1985) from a letter he wrote in 1982. I thought it was worth some reflection this week.

I have this running quandary about Christmas. I get upset about it, because I feel that we American Christians make too much of it, and too little. Too little of it, because we pile all sorts of other things onto it, including some that have only the feeblest connection with the Event it is supposed to commemorate. If God did become a man, in any real sense, it is the most important thing that ever happened. Surely we, who believe it, could well devote one day a year to uninterrupted
contemplation of the fact, and let Saturnalia fall on the winter solstice, where it belongs.

On the other hand, we make so much of the actual birth, and forget the things that make it more than just the birth of a baby (though even that is, in Walt Whitman's phrase, "miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels"*)--more, even, than the birth of the greatest man who ever lived. We forget the promise to Eve of a descendant who will solve the problem of Evil; the promise to Abraham of one by whom all mankind will be blessed; the promise to Moses of a greater prophet than he, to arise from his people; and the promise to David of a Son who would be his Master. We forget about the eternal Purpose behind it all: it's like telling a story and leaving out the point. Yes, it is true that God gave us His Son, and so maybe we ought also to give gifts--but what, and to whom? It is also true that God gave us Himself, and the only sensible response to that is to give ourselves to Him. There is nothing else that He wants from us, or, if there is something, He can take it. Only I, my ego, my heart, is truly mine to give or to withhold--and is therefore the appropriate gift to Him.

* Walt Whitman (1819-1892), Song of Myself, in Leaves of Grass

competitors...or brothers?

"When we confess our virtues, we are competitors; when we confess our sins, we are brothers." --Karl Barth

A radio caller the other day had struggled to find acceptance in his own community of orthodox Jews and raised this question: "Are people harder on those in their own group than they are on outsiders?"

It's not a bad question. It seems to be a problem in religious communities everywhere: Jewish, Mormon, Muslim, Baha'i, Christian, and more. I've experienced it myself, seen it in the news, and listened to the experiences of friends from other faiths. As I mulled it over, however, I began to wonder if the issue wasn't less about faith communities and more about grace vs. works.

Ironically, living under a system where you try to earn salvation or God's favor by keeping the law, doing good, or being morally upright cultivates a judgmental heart. You live through the strain of fighting your nature to resist doing the things you shouldn't and actively do the good things you don't really want to do, and in the end if you're "successful," you become a morally upright person who expects the same from the others in your group. After all, "I was able to do it; you should be, too." Those who fail are seen as spiritually lesser people who just haven't tried hard enough. It may not be overtly stated that way, but within the hearts of the successful do-gooders, the judgment is there, looking down on others in the group with disappointment (at the very least) and self-righteous pride in their own ability to make the cut.

Contrast that with life under a system of grace in which I see myself as I really am--no hiding or sugar-coating to impress the other religious people in my circle--just a person whose nature is to run my life on my own apart from God. I replace Him with a myriad other things I love more and set myself up as the ultimate master of my fate, the decision-maker, the authority over myself--my substitute god. Before the creation of the world, God knew I would exist and choose myself as ultimate, living as if He didn't exist or have any right to my life...and before setting all of it in motion He provided my only way of escape from the damning treadmill of self-effort and self-righteousness: the perfect God-man, Jesus, who laid His life down in my place and bought me at great cost to Himself. When I trust that what He did for me was enough to save me, and that His sacrifice applied to my life changes my standing before God, I am overwhelmed by His grace.

That grace overflows onto the lives of those around me. I'm no longer critical, inwardly judgmental, self-righteous, and expecting others to meet a standard. I am overwhelmed, aware of my unworthiness of such a gift, amazed that He would set His love on me, and overflowing with love for people still on the treadmill.

It is the system of works and self-effort that creates judgment for others in our own group. I have experienced it firsthand with people who say they're trusting God but live in their own strength without any experience of intimate community or the strong freedom that comes from God's grace. This kind of grace from God creates groups of people who love each other deeply, supernaturally, intimately, with no strings attached and no judgment rendered. This is not theory; I have experienced it firsthand, and there is nothing like it. God's gift of grace evaporates self-righteousness and replaces it with love for those struggling with sin...because I see myself as a co-struggler and recipient of undeserved favor. I see others differently and am free to pour love into the lives of those who struggle with me.

God's furniture in the dark

I just finished reading about the life of Helen Keller. The dark silence was her suffocating enemy, and yet at the same time, her great clarifier. She had no distractions--only darkness blocking out any context. Fear, anger, craving, passion all swirled within her, but the darkness gave her focus.

There is an element of freedom in being blind to what lies ahead. We are ALL blind to what lies ahead; we just don't realize it until something unexpected happens, leaving us aware of our fragility. The vulnerability we feel in dark silence rouses our courage to move forward even when we can’t see what’s in front of us.

It reminds me of God’s call to Abram to leave home and go to "a land I will show you." Taking steps in the darkness is faith. The furniture of God’s dimension is all around us. We know it’s there because, like Helen Keller, we are constantly bumping into it, but taking the steps is still such a fearful thing. I can't see God--what if He's not who He says He is? Where is He leading me? I'm bruised from the collisions--"Why would a good God have put that in my way?! Why didn’t He take it out of my path, or at least guide me around it?"—but these things are proof of His existence, His ownership, and His goodness. We can't see the shapes and colors behind the dark or hear the other-dimensional melodies, but the obstacles He places in our path still teach us about Him. We bump into the furniture, grope for His hand, and feel the vibrations of His voice; we know He’s there.

Our darkness is our only opportunity to show Him we trust Him. When our eyes are opened we will see plainly, and then He will overwhelm us--there will be no faith, just seeing. I want a ferocious faith that takes steps in the dark and flings itself on His goodness. Everyone experiences darkness and silence, but knowing Him brings context to the darkness. Faith in His word and His character are our beacon of light. We do not stumble around in despair, but walk confidently in the light of hope, trusting Him in darkness or in light.

daily cycle

I wake up (kind of) to face breakfast--my albatross in life--with small boys dancing around my feet like baby birds with mouths clamoring for food.

At midnight I drop into bed with my mind still whirring about the deeper things in life that have simmered under the surface all day; now it's quiet and dark and I remove the lid and sample their flavors. Finally it's time to feed myself; it takes a while to sort things out before I can fall asleep.

I don't think most women expect the tension from what I call "the mundane maintenance of life" that intensifies when we have children. Maybe it's just me--I get clogged up inside because I'm constantly hitting the pause button on my thought life to find lost shoes, answer "why" questions, handle crises, trim grubby fingernails, and focus on the expectant little eyes watching me. These beautiful and demanding things force me to come down from my mental treehouse and be fully accessible to the moment. At the end of the day, it's not what's checked off my list that matters, but how present I was able to be with the people in my path. And kissing those soft little cheeks at the end of the day makes it all worth it.

On Thanksgiving Day morning, my pastor Matt Chandler had a seizure and was rushed to the hospital where MRI and CT scans revealed a tumor in the right frontal lobe of his brain. Yesterday he was in surgery for seven hours and is recovering well so far--a great relief to the thousands who love him and have been posting encouragement, hope, and prayer on Facebook from all over the world.

I've thought a lot about death this week. And life. About what matters...and what doesn't. It turns out my list of what matters most goes far beyond important things like happiness and my family, as precious as they are. Watching Matt and his family walk this road has challenged me:

• to quit wasting time on things that don't matter
  
• to stare in the face of suffering and trust fiercely in God's goodness
• to stop coddling the part of me that wants my own way
• to continually persist in surrendering all I am, all I have, and all I want to God
• to let God's view of me shape my life, not that of culture or other people

We have fasted, prayed, and pleaded for Matt's life, but most of all we've flung ourselves in wonder on God's goodness and have been reminded that keeping our hands open to the Lord is the only way to peace and joy. Everything I am and everything I have belongs to God: my husband, my children, my friendships, my finances, my health--everything. It is His to do with what He will. I just want more of Him. And if suffering gets me more of Him, I will walk through it with joy. He is my great reward--not anything He gives, but He Himself.

Steve McCoy explains on his blog the "deep blessing of having our theology put to the test:"

"It reveals whether we truly believe God is in control. Whether our peace will come from laying our anxieties before him. Whether we believe our spouse is the treasure God intends. Whether God is truly a greater treasure for us than our spouse. It's God's mercy that we go through times where there is nothing to lean on but Him."

Thank you, God, for Your "deep blessings" that push us to long for You beyond our capacity. You heal us body and soul.

Thank you, Matt. You stir up my affection for Him even in your suffering. Praying constantly for your quick recovery. Come back to us soon. We love you more than you know.

small god

Your small god is made in our image
impotent
sympathetic
effeminate
surprised
disappointed

human

he is us.

We run in small-god circles
praising glimmers in each other
in ourselves
so we don’t have to look up
at the face
watching us.

piano for sale: pictures

This is a totally random post intended for those in my homeschool co-op because, being the proud wife of a techie, I couldn't spend time figuring out how to attach photos to a post on our Yahoo group.

Happy weekending, everyone. :)

pacifier idolatry

"Tomorrow night will be your first night as a REAL big boy!" I explained to Denton enthusiastically. "We're going to get rid of the pacifiers and you can go to sleep on your own, just like Creed does!"

"Okay, Mommy!" he agreed. "I want to be a big boy!"

Bedtime came and I had already removed the pacifiers to the top of the toy shelves. After several mournful attempts to get me to return the pacifiers (tearfully explaining that he didn't want to be a big boy after all; that he really needs the pacifiers; that he doesn't want to do this anymore; that he wants "the cool of the pacifier;" etc.) and several course corrections, he came sobbing to the door again:

"Mommy?"
"What."
"I just have to say one thing."
"What is it?"

(long pause)

"Uh...it's that I just really want my pacifier."
"Denton."
"What..."
"You already told me this and my answer was 'No.' My answer is still 'no' and it will always be 'no.'"
"Ugh! Mommy!! I don't want you to SAY this!!!"
"Close the door and go back to your bed."
"Mommy, I am still sad!"
"I know. You just have to be brave. I'm sorry it's so hard...but you can do it! When you wake up in the morning you won't be sad anymore."

After separating the boys, it only took a few moments for the house to settle into blissful silence--they had both gone to sleep. Little did I know this was because Denton had climbed up his bookcase and acquired the coveted item. When I checked on him before I turned in for the night, there he was--out cold...with a pacifier dangling from his mouth. Mommy had officially lost the battle, but the war was still on.

A couple of days later, I bought a computer game that Denton really wanted. We installed it "together" with great ceremony. Then after we'd filled in his name and prep'd for the first game, I said, "Now we're going to turn it off. But if you can show me that you're a big boy tonight by going to sleep without your pacifier, you can get up in the morning and play this game all by yourself!"

"But I want to play it NOW, Mommy!" he protested.

"I know. But I'm not sure you're big enough to do it yet. You need to show me that you're a big boy tonight and then I'll know you're big enough to play your own computer game."

"Okay, Mommy," he said. And with that, he ran to his room, grabbed his pacifier, and threw it in the bathroom trash can. (I fished it out and disposed of it behind the scenes so he couldn't retrieve it in a weak moment later on.) I braced myself for bedtime, when he would want it back. But bedtime came and went with no resistance, no struggle, and no complaining! He went right to sleep and woke up to a morning of gaming.

What happened?

Denton found something he wanted MORE. The promise of gaming was so motivating that letting go of the pacifier was worth it.

How like Denton I am as I cling to the "fruitless joys" in my life, unwilling to let go of them for more of God. My little boy showed me that when I won't let go of something, it's because I love it most. When I love God more, the pain of letting other things go is overshadowed by my longing for Him. Even the "good" things in my life become chains to spiritual infancy if I become too attached to them. They are substitutions...pacifiers. I often don't recognize my pacifiers as such because they aren't always tangible things. But they are always rooted in my desire to soothe myself rather than yielding to God and trusting Him for peace. Release and obedience is an act of worship; a declaration that He is sweeter to me than any other thing.

Your love is sweeter than all pleasure
Your love is richer than all treasure
Your love is better than all fruitless joys
You are better

None compare to You
With my heart and mind and soul
I'll chase You

(from "You Are Better" by Michael Bleeker and Steve Miller 2004)

defeating villains after dinner

[A snippet of conversation overheard while working on my laptop after dinner while the boys play.]

Creed and Denton are imagining that they're in a spaceship flying to Mars. They've set two mini trampolines up on end against each other to form a spaceship--their transport to various planets to complete their missions. In their first mission, Creed explains to Denton that he will likely encounter "Sand Monsters."

"AAAAAAGGGHHHH!!" Denton exclaims dramatically...but Creed quickly counters with "Nope. We're going to have to handle it." "Oh." Denton says, calming himself. Creed explains that the sand monsters have dangerous brains but it's okay because OUR brains are very hard. They shoot the sand monsters with lotion and declare triumphantly, "They melted into quesadillas!"

"Alright!!!" they cry, congratulating each other.

"Now you be my partner!"

"Okay!" says the other one.

"Now let's go to Mombasa."

"Okay. Good job."

"I spotted Carmen Sandiego's footsteps!"

"Yes...we've found another clue!"

"THERE SHE IS!!!" (sound of footsteps in hot pursuit)

"Too bad, Carmen Sandiego!" a small voice says with expansive authority. "You're under arrest!"

"Great job, Hawkins."

"Now let's go to the planet Lexicon!"

"Awright!"

"Hey, I see words everywhere! There's WORD GIRL!"

"Change into the Cheesy Monster."

"Okay!"

"THIS is a job for WORD GIRL!!!"

(Sound of fierce scuffling, and protests of "Hey--NO!! I'm a good guy! I'm your partner!!" Somehow that gets ironed out and the team moves on in crime-fighting power.)

"YOU are deFEATed!!" (sound of acapella background music pouring from small lips)

I love my life.

garments

Actions are clothing
Hiding…expressing—
The wrapper
All we see
of ourselves.
Of others.

Actions speak
But not the loudest.

The loudest sound pounds on in our ears
The background pulse;
Throbbing undercurrent of every deed.

POUND molestation
POUND feeding the hungry
POUND suicide
POUND going to church
POUND murder
POUND fasting
POUND rape
POUND giving to charity
POUND thirsting for power
POUND teaching Sunday School

POUND

POUND

POUND

Our incessant drive
Our one goal
Our true desire
Our central thrust:

SELF.

Controlling my own life.
Charting my own course.
Earning my own way.
Dominating you.
Dominating myself.
Dominating Him.

Through sin.
Through religion.
At our best.
At our worst.

We pump the same blood
With the same intensity.
The heinous criminal,
The devout lawkeeper.
We are the same.

But we don’t believe it
Because of the garments

Burn away the fabric of deeds
Good and bad;
Sins and morality;
They are chaff in the wind—
Ashes all.

The glare of naked skin is all we have.

No more security in the good I do
No more cowering in the shadow of the bad
Just me
Naked
Raw
Scorched
Singed
The truth
Exposed
Like a middle finger in my heart
Bent to self-exaltation

The good girl
Is
The murderer:

The law-keeper
Who
Won’t be ruled

I am what I am
All my bad
All my good
Tainted
and
Vulgar.

Glaring.

My sins
An unbleachable bloodstain
My righteousness
Bloody rags

ALL
An offense
To His holiness
The middle finger
In my heart
Thrusting at heaven
Screaming
I WILL DO IT MYSELF

Into the naked crowd of the world
He stakes His claim
Through tendons and flesh
Hands open and writhing
Smeared with my pain;
My rage at His claims to supremacy
In a shower of my spit and cursing
He screams toward heaven

I WILL DO IT MYSELF

And becomes
My garment.

Famine

Surrounded by delicacies
Refinements
Flavors
Aromas
Savoring each morsel
Filling every inner sanctum

Soul cramping
Growling
Empty and craving
Malnourished
And
Dying

cravings, culture, and Christians

I think our efforts as evangelical Christians to "be culturally relevant" are largely backfiring, especially with younger people who are craving a sense of reverence, stillness, beauty, and the eternal in their lives.

Many churches have gone "mega" (huge stadium-style buildings, entertainment-based services, shorter sermons, "seeker-sensitive" styling, etc.) in an attempt to make Christ relevant to the average unchurched person.

The problem is...Christ IS relevant to the average unchurched person--already. All this hype only makes it look like He wasn't to begin with. And worse than that, it distracts from the eternal, universal Truth that can only be found in Him; it suffocates true worship by centering around US, not Him.

We're designed for worship. But when it terminates on us, even worship is unsatisfying. Instead of letting the gospel speak into and shape our current experience, we distract from it by "making it edgy" and pouring it into a corporate-organized, entertainment-styled package. We underestimate people (and God's ability to reach them), thinking they will only be interested in the truth if it comes to them in the season's hottest colors or via video venue with professionally-mixed music.

Have we forgotten that God's truth is timeless? That our little lives are just a drop in the bucket of history? That people want more than a hyped-up version of God? Have we created Him in our own image and lost sight of Who He really is? Because if we knew and experienced Him, we would feel no need to hype Him up. He is more than enough: uncontainable, immeasurable, and overwhelming. THIS is what we crave. We muddy His glory (and intensify our angst) when we reveal Him as anything less.

If we spent more time in stillness and humility before Him (individually and corporately), I think our need for all this drama would fade. Our lives would declare Him. People would see His true glory as we live transparently and they see what He can do in a yielded person. It's breathtaking.

We're technology minded, but exhausted from looking at screens. We Facebook, Twitter, text, post, and 12-step, but still ache for someone to really know us. We fill ourselves with fast food, caffeine, Velveeta, silicone, and HDTV, but crave what's real. God is the only One Who can give it to us. The church is not selling something, but revealing Someone. Let's not get in the way.

better than

The boys were eating ice cream cones the other day when Creed said thoughtfully, "Mommy, Daddy is better than ice cream."

Coming from a five year old, this is no small compliment. As fabulous as Daddy is, few five-year-old boys would rate him superior while submerged in chocolate ice cream.

Most of us are the same way. The "ice cream" of life varies from person to person, but those things we savor most compete with our adoration of God. What I immerse myself in is what I love. What I love is what I immerse myself in.

Lord, stir up my affections for You so that everything I experience satisfies and stimulates my hunger for You.

Psalm 63

actual vs. potential

It can be nerve racking to be around artists. To render well, they see every pore; every unplucked eyebrow; every sag; every wrinkle. An artist sees brutal reality and records it. Picasso the novice.

But there's another side to artists--the perspective of the visionary. The need to embellish, update, clarify, distort, and perfect. To render things not as they are, but as the artist sees them. Picasso the cubist.

The Master Artist sees beyond pores, eyebrows, sags, and wrinkles to my anxiety, fatigue, blind spots, error, mess, conflict, darkness. He also sees who I will be: beautiful, released, growing, trusting, new, different, bright. HOPE.

May I be the kind of artist who, seeing the flaws, emphasizes the beauty.

speaking of bananas...

When Creed was really little, he asked me, "Mommy, what is the truth?"

"Oh," I started to reply, "the truth is...truth is...uh..." (this was going to be harder than I thought. Maybe a tangible illustration would help!)

"See the banana you have in your hand?" I asked him. He looked at it.
"If you told me that was a banana, that would be the TRUTH, because it IS a banana. If you say it's NOT a banana, that is NOT the truth."

He took this in.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, his face beaming with understanding. "YES!...the TRUTH is a BANANA!!"

It tooks us two years to undo that one.

In honor of my friend who's fallen in love

"Love is the most difficult and dangerous form of courage. Courage is the most desperate, admirable, and noble kind of love."
--Delmore Schwartz

"Love is a choice you make from moment to moment."
--Barabara De Angelis

"To love someone deeply gives you strength. Being loved by someone deeply gives you courage."
--Lao Tzu

"True love isn't so much a dreamy feeling that you have as it is an enduring commitment to give sacrificially--even, or perhaps especially, when you don't feel like it."
--William R. Mattox, Jr.

"You never lose by loving. You always lose by holding back."
--Barabara De Angelis

"To love at all is to be vulnerable."
--C. S. Lewis

proof of God's love

"While we were yet in weakness [powerless to help ourselves], at the fitting time Christ died for (in behalf of) the ungodly. Now it is an extraordinary thing for one to give his life even for an upright man, though perhaps for a noble and lovable and generous benefactor someone might even dare to die. But God shows and clearly proves His [own] love for us by the fact that while we were still sinners, Christ (the Messiah, the Anointed One) died for us. Therefore, since we are now justified (acquitted, made righteous, and brought into right relationship with God) by Christ's blood, how much more [certain is it that] we shall be saved by Him from the indignation and wrath of God. For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God through the death of His Son, it is much more [certain], now that we are reconciled, that we shall be saved (daily delivered from sin's dominion) through His [resurrection] life." --Romans 5:6-10