My little guy is learning to read, and having a lot of fun with it. I love to see his face light up as he realizes he knows how to read a new word.
So we were reading together recently, and he was stumped by the word "home." When I told him it was "home," he asked, "What about the E at the end," since it made no sound. I told him it was a silent E. We moved on.
Several days later we were at a restaurant with some of our extended family, and Evan was writing his name on paper to pass the time until our food came. He has known how to write his name for quite a while, so I was puzzled to hear someone ask him why there were two E's in his name.
Strangely, Evan had written EEVAN. He explained simply, "The first one is a silent E."
Monday, March 10, 2014
Thursday, February 6, 2014
A Call to Live and Make it Count
This morning I took Evan to his preschool as usual. For the walk across the parking lot in 40 degree weather, he chose his favorite light jacket with the hood up. On top of the hood he wore his jaguar hat that hangs down on the sides, thus ensuring the warmth of his head at least. He is often a comical sight, marching to the beat of his own drum for sure.
When we approach Evan's classroom he often likes to try to sneak up on his teacher by "hiding" himself, crouching down close to the wall. He finds it hilarious if we pretend we can't find him. Little kids are cool like that.
Evan is four years old. The same age as the little boy, William Webb, in the next town over who died from cancer yesterday morning. I can hardly imagine the pain and loss his family is dealing with right now, though it makes me cry just thinking of it.
When terrible things happen to children, people often say to hug your own kids extra tight, symbolic, I suppose, of treasuring them. I love hugs, and I love my kids. But to me, the terrible death of a four-year-old is a reminder to make life count.
Make it count. We're all terminal. Any day could be the last for any one of us. Be intentional in how you live and how you love. Take time now to teach your kids the important things you want them to know. Speak life into people's lives, building them up rather than tearing them down. Savor the moments.
Do your best; give your best; live your best. And for all the ways we fall short and fail, there is grace. And there is hope and peace in the Giver of Life, who is Love. We cannot be perfect, but we can make our time count. "Love each other deeply" (1Peter 4:8), for our time here is short.
When we approach Evan's classroom he often likes to try to sneak up on his teacher by "hiding" himself, crouching down close to the wall. He finds it hilarious if we pretend we can't find him. Little kids are cool like that.
Evan is four years old. The same age as the little boy, William Webb, in the next town over who died from cancer yesterday morning. I can hardly imagine the pain and loss his family is dealing with right now, though it makes me cry just thinking of it.
When terrible things happen to children, people often say to hug your own kids extra tight, symbolic, I suppose, of treasuring them. I love hugs, and I love my kids. But to me, the terrible death of a four-year-old is a reminder to make life count.
Make it count. We're all terminal. Any day could be the last for any one of us. Be intentional in how you live and how you love. Take time now to teach your kids the important things you want them to know. Speak life into people's lives, building them up rather than tearing them down. Savor the moments.
Do your best; give your best; live your best. And for all the ways we fall short and fail, there is grace. And there is hope and peace in the Giver of Life, who is Love. We cannot be perfect, but we can make our time count. "Love each other deeply" (1Peter 4:8), for our time here is short.
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
Reflecting on a Life
There were these two college kids once upon a time. They made some mistakes they lived to regret, making me in the process. She gave me life, and set me free.
Free to make my home with these other two, a childless couple yearning. In love, they gave me life, and set me free.
Because life and freedom go hand in hand. Two ideas in symbiotic harmony.
There was this man once upon a time, and he was God, yearning. He killed death, in love. He gave me life, and set me free.
And when I look back over these years of my life, it is all good and fullness of life and flying in freedom. It is all grace.
So now I carry on the legacy. Giving life and freedom. May it be all grace.
Free to make my home with these other two, a childless couple yearning. In love, they gave me life, and set me free.
Because life and freedom go hand in hand. Two ideas in symbiotic harmony.
There was this man once upon a time, and he was God, yearning. He killed death, in love. He gave me life, and set me free.
And when I look back over these years of my life, it is all good and fullness of life and flying in freedom. It is all grace.
So now I carry on the legacy. Giving life and freedom. May it be all grace.
Friday, January 10, 2014
Confessions of an Impatient Mom
We stood at the front door as he casually put his gloves on, one finger at a time. I waited. His little hands fumbled, dropping the gloves, and he unhurriedly bent down to get them and start the process all over.
I sighed loudly, looking at the clock. Time to go. Now. Or better yet, five minutes ago.
The frustration of impatience bubbled inside me, coloring my mood and attitude. How long does it take to put on gloves? Why not just put them on in the van? Why are we always running late somewhere?
Patience eluded me, as it often does in various situations with my kids. Sure, as a mom, I have a lot going on... managing people, pets, schedules, household chores, errands, work... But I'm realizing my impatience is a form of unkindness toward my children that dishonors them, the very ones I love so much.
I need an adjustment in how I think. Instead of elevating my agenda, however good it may be, to priority status, I need to elevate the value of relationships. My kids are not interruptions in the midst of whatever I need to accomplish. For the most part, raising them well is the essence of what I need to accomplish at this point in life. I need to open my eyes deliberately to really see these special, precious little ones whom God has entrusted to me for so brief a time.
After all, is it a win if we arrive somewhere almost on time, but I have wounded someone's feelings in the process? Is it a win if we avoid making a huge mess, but I have undermined my child's courage to try something for herself? Is it maybe a bigger win if my kids know they are respected and honored and supported within their family?
Obviously, there are times we need to just get things done, but I am finding more and more that impatience tends to take the joy right out of the day. For everyone.
Better to be kind. And maybe make some adjustments to allow for those individual quirks that drive me crazy. Maybe get more creative in dealing with discipline issues that drive me crazy. Maybe find the opposite of crazy in Christ, as I am mindful of his kindness and patience toward me.
Yes, kindness and patience go hand in hand. So here is a resolution for this new year: to extend the same kindness and honor (and even more) to my family as I extend to friends and strangers. Ironic, isn't it, how we can sometimes act our worst with the ones we love best?
I sighed loudly, looking at the clock. Time to go. Now. Or better yet, five minutes ago.
The frustration of impatience bubbled inside me, coloring my mood and attitude. How long does it take to put on gloves? Why not just put them on in the van? Why are we always running late somewhere?
Patience eluded me, as it often does in various situations with my kids. Sure, as a mom, I have a lot going on... managing people, pets, schedules, household chores, errands, work... But I'm realizing my impatience is a form of unkindness toward my children that dishonors them, the very ones I love so much.
I need an adjustment in how I think. Instead of elevating my agenda, however good it may be, to priority status, I need to elevate the value of relationships. My kids are not interruptions in the midst of whatever I need to accomplish. For the most part, raising them well is the essence of what I need to accomplish at this point in life. I need to open my eyes deliberately to really see these special, precious little ones whom God has entrusted to me for so brief a time.
After all, is it a win if we arrive somewhere almost on time, but I have wounded someone's feelings in the process? Is it a win if we avoid making a huge mess, but I have undermined my child's courage to try something for herself? Is it maybe a bigger win if my kids know they are respected and honored and supported within their family?
Obviously, there are times we need to just get things done, but I am finding more and more that impatience tends to take the joy right out of the day. For everyone.
Better to be kind. And maybe make some adjustments to allow for those individual quirks that drive me crazy. Maybe get more creative in dealing with discipline issues that drive me crazy. Maybe find the opposite of crazy in Christ, as I am mindful of his kindness and patience toward me.
Yes, kindness and patience go hand in hand. So here is a resolution for this new year: to extend the same kindness and honor (and even more) to my family as I extend to friends and strangers. Ironic, isn't it, how we can sometimes act our worst with the ones we love best?
Monday, December 2, 2013
The Unfriending... Letting Go
Today I unfriended someone on Facebook. It was a first for me, and I thought about it for days before clicking it into reality.
I'm not one to burn bridges easily, and I hate to lose people. But this was not a real bridge burning as I could find no bridge remaining to connect us. This friend had become a ghost to me, a shadow of a ghost really, where there had once been a dear friend.
I hoped for a long time to see even a glimmer of the friend I once had. The one I trusted, in some ways, more than myself. The one with the strangely similar sense of humor and interests. We had our own lingo, and sometimes completed each other's sentences. That's the joy of best friends.
But people change. Life happens, and choices are made. For a long time I chose to hope. She chose to be silent. So today I clicked her into an Unfriend, but the irony is that nothing really changed with that click. She had been an Unfriend for a long time already. Now I just won't see her vacation pictures.
I'm not one to burn bridges easily, and I hate to lose people. But this was not a real bridge burning as I could find no bridge remaining to connect us. This friend had become a ghost to me, a shadow of a ghost really, where there had once been a dear friend.
I hoped for a long time to see even a glimmer of the friend I once had. The one I trusted, in some ways, more than myself. The one with the strangely similar sense of humor and interests. We had our own lingo, and sometimes completed each other's sentences. That's the joy of best friends.
But people change. Life happens, and choices are made. For a long time I chose to hope. She chose to be silent. So today I clicked her into an Unfriend, but the irony is that nothing really changed with that click. She had been an Unfriend for a long time already. Now I just won't see her vacation pictures.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Sometimes Cats
When I look just beyond my computer screen, I see tiny holes in my curtains. The curtains have hung in that window since we moved into our house several years ago, but these holes are new. They are the evidence of our cat. Our newest cat.
Jon and I had no plans to get a cat of any kind. At least not any time soon. Three kids, two dogs, four hermit crabs, and we were good. We like cats, but why add more trouble to the mix?
Good, solid reasoning, and yet, here we are. In the span of four months, two cats claimed us as their own, and changed our lives. We have put up and taken down baby gates in multiple areas of the house, rearranged the bathroom, temporarily lived with our garage door open, and inconvenienced ourselves and our dogs.
Not to mention the new chores we've added to our life: giving the cats food and water, cleaning out the litter boxes, and making time to play with our feline friends. All this for two homeless cats who decided to camp out at our place, and wouldn't leave.
Maybe we're too soft. We could have sent them to Animal Control and wished them well. Maybe we're too compassionate, concerned about what might happen to them in the midst of so many other unwanted cats. Maybe it's simply a God thing. A surprise in our life, perhaps unplanned and unwanted, that turns out as a blessing with a purpose.
Our first cat was Twinkle. In my mind I call her Grace. She was a scraggly, wary little cat who sneaked into our garage in search of a safe refuge. A skinny ragamuffin looking for mercy, she had little to offer. Yet we reached out to her in kindness, cared for her, and took her in. We showed her grace, as God does us.
Our second cat was Brownie. In my mind her name is Faith. She made her debut on our rooftop, and soon adopted our front yard as her home. Friendly and fun, she easily won us over with her feline charm. She was our "outdoor cat" for three weeks.
And then she disappeared. Gone for two days, which was not like her at all. We worried and searched. On the second day, not knowing what might have happened to the little brown cat, this popped into my head: "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding."
Instead of sorrow and hopelessness, I deliberately trusted for the best outcome. I exercised faith, and that afternoon, amazingly, we were reunited with the cat. She had walked into a woman's house several streets away, and the kind woman posted about her on Craigslist in hopes of returning her to her home.
So we have holes in our curtains and two cats, furry reminders of grace and faith. Funny how God likes to use tangible things in our lives to remind us of the spiritual. Like water. And bread and wine. And sometimes cats.
Jon and I had no plans to get a cat of any kind. At least not any time soon. Three kids, two dogs, four hermit crabs, and we were good. We like cats, but why add more trouble to the mix?
Good, solid reasoning, and yet, here we are. In the span of four months, two cats claimed us as their own, and changed our lives. We have put up and taken down baby gates in multiple areas of the house, rearranged the bathroom, temporarily lived with our garage door open, and inconvenienced ourselves and our dogs.
Not to mention the new chores we've added to our life: giving the cats food and water, cleaning out the litter boxes, and making time to play with our feline friends. All this for two homeless cats who decided to camp out at our place, and wouldn't leave.
Maybe we're too soft. We could have sent them to Animal Control and wished them well. Maybe we're too compassionate, concerned about what might happen to them in the midst of so many other unwanted cats. Maybe it's simply a God thing. A surprise in our life, perhaps unplanned and unwanted, that turns out as a blessing with a purpose.
Our first cat was Twinkle. In my mind I call her Grace. She was a scraggly, wary little cat who sneaked into our garage in search of a safe refuge. A skinny ragamuffin looking for mercy, she had little to offer. Yet we reached out to her in kindness, cared for her, and took her in. We showed her grace, as God does us.
Our second cat was Brownie. In my mind her name is Faith. She made her debut on our rooftop, and soon adopted our front yard as her home. Friendly and fun, she easily won us over with her feline charm. She was our "outdoor cat" for three weeks.
And then she disappeared. Gone for two days, which was not like her at all. We worried and searched. On the second day, not knowing what might have happened to the little brown cat, this popped into my head: "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding."
Instead of sorrow and hopelessness, I deliberately trusted for the best outcome. I exercised faith, and that afternoon, amazingly, we were reunited with the cat. She had walked into a woman's house several streets away, and the kind woman posted about her on Craigslist in hopes of returning her to her home.
So we have holes in our curtains and two cats, furry reminders of grace and faith. Funny how God likes to use tangible things in our lives to remind us of the spiritual. Like water. And bread and wine. And sometimes cats.
Friday, September 27, 2013
Ode to the New Season
I love the changing of seasons. The newness, the freshness of it. It inspires me to make my own changes, and gives me a fresh perspective. My favorite season is whichever one is new, although I do prefer Spring and Fall a bit.
The past couple days have been refreshingly cool here in South Georgia. This morning I walked the kids to school, as I have been trying to do a lot this school year, and the world was simply glorious. Blue skies, cool breeze, a scattering of leaves. Anna and Will actually said they were chilly... how great is that?!
Fall is definitely in the air now, coloring my dreams in oranges and browns. I can finally walk into the mall and allow myself to look at the store displays that have been proclaiming Fall and Halloween and Thanksgiving for weeks already. (I still avert my eyes from the expanding Christmas aisles. If I don't see it, it's like it's not there, right?)
I'm ready for pumpkins and the scent of cinnamon and no longer sweating when I walk to the mailbox at the end of my driveway! Bring on the crunchy leaves, and I will happily plod right through them and gather them into piles to my children's delight.
I love Fall! I just wish we had a bit more of it.
The past couple days have been refreshingly cool here in South Georgia. This morning I walked the kids to school, as I have been trying to do a lot this school year, and the world was simply glorious. Blue skies, cool breeze, a scattering of leaves. Anna and Will actually said they were chilly... how great is that?!
Fall is definitely in the air now, coloring my dreams in oranges and browns. I can finally walk into the mall and allow myself to look at the store displays that have been proclaiming Fall and Halloween and Thanksgiving for weeks already. (I still avert my eyes from the expanding Christmas aisles. If I don't see it, it's like it's not there, right?)
I'm ready for pumpkins and the scent of cinnamon and no longer sweating when I walk to the mailbox at the end of my driveway! Bring on the crunchy leaves, and I will happily plod right through them and gather them into piles to my children's delight.
I love Fall! I just wish we had a bit more of it.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
The Stamp of Justice - Some Thoughts for Easter
Today I mailed an Easter card to a far-away friend. I decorated the envelope with a few Easter stickers declaring "He is Risen!" Then, as I attached the stamp in the top right corner, I noticed it said simply, "Justice."
Justice. How appropriate. How profound. Justice is a heavy word, one bearing the full weight of the law. When Justice is truly served, it may be hard, but it is right, and there is no way around it.
Justice fell on Jesus on a Friday. Not for anything He had done. It was the Justice we deserved. He served the sentence, taking the punishment for our crimes. Crimes against God, against our fellow humans, against ourselves. We are all guilty before God. Justice.
God placed the stamp of Justice on Jesus as He hung on our cross in our place. Justice was fulfilled.
On Sunday something remarkable happened. With Justice now satisfied, God placed the stamp of Mercy on us. Mercy. Grace. Forgiveness. Hope. Life.
Why?
Love. That's Easter.
Justice. How appropriate. How profound. Justice is a heavy word, one bearing the full weight of the law. When Justice is truly served, it may be hard, but it is right, and there is no way around it.
Justice fell on Jesus on a Friday. Not for anything He had done. It was the Justice we deserved. He served the sentence, taking the punishment for our crimes. Crimes against God, against our fellow humans, against ourselves. We are all guilty before God. Justice.
God placed the stamp of Justice on Jesus as He hung on our cross in our place. Justice was fulfilled.
On Sunday something remarkable happened. With Justice now satisfied, God placed the stamp of Mercy on us. Mercy. Grace. Forgiveness. Hope. Life.
Why?
Love. That's Easter.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Free Like a Hawk
A couple days ago I was walking around our neighborhood and saw a hawk land on a tree branch with a dead squirrel in his grip. I stopped to watch for a moment as the beautiful bird looked around and hopped from one branch to another with his catch.
I was a little sad for the squirrel's loss of life, but still impressed by the hawk's skill and beauty and majesty. And I wondered what it is about birds of prey, killers that they are, that captivates us even to the extent of making one a symbol of our nation. And I came up with a theory.
Hawks, eagles, and other birds of prey are apex predators just like killer whales and tigers. No one seeks to eat them. They occupy a position of freedom and power. Fear is unknown to them.
We humans, on the other hand, are a strange lot, an apex predator by virtue of our brains. Physically, we are not so impressive compared to other animals that could easily devour us. We are not the fastest or the strongest. We don't have sharp claws or giant teeth. Other critters can see and hear far better than we can.
And yet we have these thumbs and these crazy brains that enable us to imagine and create and dominate. But these same brains that make us a threat to all other species by the way we can manipulate the world around us, at the same time, make us painfully aware of our precarious lot in life. So, even as we dare to dominate this world, our own self-awareness threatens our sense of security.
The hawk remains confident, powerful, and free from fear. And those traits make him very attractive to us. How we long to rise above the weight and fear and mess of this world... to fly in freedom.
How fitting then that our deepest longing is matched by our gracious God. He assures us that those who hope in Him will "renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." (Isaiah 40:31) For Christ-followers, saved by grace alone, made new creations by the love of God, there is freedom from fear and sin and death.
Thus, we look at the mighty hawk with yearning and admiration, and find that our Creator, through Jesus, has even more so bestowed upon us the very traits we crave. "Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death." (Romans 8:1) So go... fly!
I was a little sad for the squirrel's loss of life, but still impressed by the hawk's skill and beauty and majesty. And I wondered what it is about birds of prey, killers that they are, that captivates us even to the extent of making one a symbol of our nation. And I came up with a theory.
Hawks, eagles, and other birds of prey are apex predators just like killer whales and tigers. No one seeks to eat them. They occupy a position of freedom and power. Fear is unknown to them.
We humans, on the other hand, are a strange lot, an apex predator by virtue of our brains. Physically, we are not so impressive compared to other animals that could easily devour us. We are not the fastest or the strongest. We don't have sharp claws or giant teeth. Other critters can see and hear far better than we can.
And yet we have these thumbs and these crazy brains that enable us to imagine and create and dominate. But these same brains that make us a threat to all other species by the way we can manipulate the world around us, at the same time, make us painfully aware of our precarious lot in life. So, even as we dare to dominate this world, our own self-awareness threatens our sense of security.
The hawk remains confident, powerful, and free from fear. And those traits make him very attractive to us. How we long to rise above the weight and fear and mess of this world... to fly in freedom.
How fitting then that our deepest longing is matched by our gracious God. He assures us that those who hope in Him will "renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." (Isaiah 40:31) For Christ-followers, saved by grace alone, made new creations by the love of God, there is freedom from fear and sin and death.
Thus, we look at the mighty hawk with yearning and admiration, and find that our Creator, through Jesus, has even more so bestowed upon us the very traits we crave. "Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death." (Romans 8:1) So go... fly!
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Alive
Boredom is our enemy. But entertainment is not the answer. Entertainment is, after all, a mere rabbit trail distraction. The real answer is excitement. Passion. That's what makes you feel alive. Find yours. And do it. Why not spend life feeling alive?
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
The Snowball Effect of Three Little Owls
Sometimes I have a knack for complicating things. For example, Jon gave me three beautiful pictures of owls for Christmas. It was such a thoughtful gift. I had mentioned that I just realized I really like owls a lot (perhaps a victim of some covert marketing scheme, but I like them nonetheless). And I had seen some really cool owl pictures at a store. And then my insightful hubby found some owl pictures at a different store and got them for me. How cool is that?!
So I have these lovely owl pictures, and I must find just the right place to hang them. Will they go in the living room where they look so cozy against the soft green walls (but there's not much room for them)? Or the toy room where they would add a touch of sophisticated whimsy (but... with the kids?)? Or the master bedroom where I can admire them privately (but I'd like everyone to see them)? Or perhaps the hallway (but I've always planned on hanging family pictures in the hallway)?
As one thing leads to another, so my search for a home for my new owls leads me to consider the hallway and our family pictures. If the family pictures were in place, I would have a better idea of where exactly the owl pictures might go in the hallway. How can I possibly rule out the hallway when I'm not sure where the pictures could go? I'd hate to hang the owls, and later discover that that would have been the prime location for the family pictures.
So I started with a simple proposition: to hang my new owl pictures. And now I find myself in the midst of a full-blown project of organizing my entire inventory of picture frames (which I have been collecting over the years for this very purpose), selecting just the right family photos, and arranging the photos in appropriate frames. It is a big, time-consuming project, which is why I have no family photos hanging in my hallway, which of course hinders my quest for a place to hang my owls.
While I am making progress on my family photo project, I still wonder if I should just choose another location for the owls to perch and be done with it. But what good are the family pictures if no one ever sees them? And what about the decorative shelves I found in the back of my closet that need to be hung up somewhere? Once the walls are all adorned, the house will feel that much more cozy and friendly. Now, should the shelves go in the living room...?
And my three little owls rest quietly against a wall in my bedroom, waiting for their day to come.
So I have these lovely owl pictures, and I must find just the right place to hang them. Will they go in the living room where they look so cozy against the soft green walls (but there's not much room for them)? Or the toy room where they would add a touch of sophisticated whimsy (but... with the kids?)? Or the master bedroom where I can admire them privately (but I'd like everyone to see them)? Or perhaps the hallway (but I've always planned on hanging family pictures in the hallway)?
As one thing leads to another, so my search for a home for my new owls leads me to consider the hallway and our family pictures. If the family pictures were in place, I would have a better idea of where exactly the owl pictures might go in the hallway. How can I possibly rule out the hallway when I'm not sure where the pictures could go? I'd hate to hang the owls, and later discover that that would have been the prime location for the family pictures.
So I started with a simple proposition: to hang my new owl pictures. And now I find myself in the midst of a full-blown project of organizing my entire inventory of picture frames (which I have been collecting over the years for this very purpose), selecting just the right family photos, and arranging the photos in appropriate frames. It is a big, time-consuming project, which is why I have no family photos hanging in my hallway, which of course hinders my quest for a place to hang my owls.
While I am making progress on my family photo project, I still wonder if I should just choose another location for the owls to perch and be done with it. But what good are the family pictures if no one ever sees them? And what about the decorative shelves I found in the back of my closet that need to be hung up somewhere? Once the walls are all adorned, the house will feel that much more cozy and friendly. Now, should the shelves go in the living room...?
And my three little owls rest quietly against a wall in my bedroom, waiting for their day to come.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Hopes and Aspirations for 2013
Here we are in 2013. A whole nother year. A chance to start anew, to tweak some of the good things, to tear down the bad. It's the dawning of fresh opportunities.
Or is it simply the day after yesterday? It depends on what we determine to do with it. How we think about it. It all begins in our minds.
So what will we do with this gift of a new year? Let us dare to take the chance. Try something new. Step out of our comfort zones. Grow and succeed. Stretch the boundaries, especially the ones we impose on ourselves. Reach out to help others. Be the one. Take responsibility.
Now, go! Start, and keep on starting. Happy New Year!
Or is it simply the day after yesterday? It depends on what we determine to do with it. How we think about it. It all begins in our minds.
So what will we do with this gift of a new year? Let us dare to take the chance. Try something new. Step out of our comfort zones. Grow and succeed. Stretch the boundaries, especially the ones we impose on ourselves. Reach out to help others. Be the one. Take responsibility.
Now, go! Start, and keep on starting. Happy New Year!
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Inns and Mangers and Genies
Christmastime is upon us... that wonderful, joyous, busy, holy time of year. The children at our church did a super job of sharing the Christmas story with us all this morning. Anna and Will were shepherds, and Evan was the cutest donkey ever (though I may be a little biased).
Anyway, it was a great reminder of the meaning of the season. Of how God Almighty humbled himself and came to us, to live among us. There was no room in the inn. How could all the vastness of the Creator squeeze into a Bethlehem inn anyway? Even more, how could he fit into the size of a tiny babe sleeping in a manger? It reminds me of the scene in Aladdin where the Genie, describing his own situation, says "phenomenal cosmic powers... itty bitty living space."
But there he is, our God, in a stable among the dirt and livestock and humble folk. The Creator stepping into his creation. More powerful and wonderful than any genie, he seeks us, pursues us, transforms us. He could raise up the rocks to praise and glorify his name, but he wants us. He chooses us. Do we have room for him?
Anyway, it was a great reminder of the meaning of the season. Of how God Almighty humbled himself and came to us, to live among us. There was no room in the inn. How could all the vastness of the Creator squeeze into a Bethlehem inn anyway? Even more, how could he fit into the size of a tiny babe sleeping in a manger? It reminds me of the scene in Aladdin where the Genie, describing his own situation, says "phenomenal cosmic powers... itty bitty living space."
But there he is, our God, in a stable among the dirt and livestock and humble folk. The Creator stepping into his creation. More powerful and wonderful than any genie, he seeks us, pursues us, transforms us. He could raise up the rocks to praise and glorify his name, but he wants us. He chooses us. Do we have room for him?
Saturday, December 8, 2012
What If We Could Change The World?
It's Christmastime, and the race to get more stuff for our loved ones is on. There are traffic jams around the malls and long check-out lines at the popular stores. As I consider what sort of goodies might make my little ones smile, I look around our home and see the bounty they already have, and I wonder...
What if we could all indulge a little less on ourselves and our families? Are those shiny new toys really worth it? Do we really need...?
What if we deliberately reduced our Christmas spending and used that money to help others? Others in far more desperate need?
What if we skipped some of the coolest toys and gadgets, and instead bought goats? Or chickens? For a family whose life would be changed by our kindness.
What if we invested our money in providing education for a child somewhere in that other world? Or maybe supported a clean water project that sets up wells to help entire communities enjoy safe drinking water?
What if this Christmas we looked beyond "us" and made a difference for "them?" Could we clear our eyes of all the glitter and excitement, promoted by shiny baubles and mall music, and reach out beyond our own world to really make an impact?
Just think about what could happen. We could change a life. We could offer hope. It seems to me that's the true spirit of Christmas. And yet it is so very difficult.
Visit www.worldvisiongifts.org (or another such organization) to learn how to help in these types of projects and more.
What if we could all indulge a little less on ourselves and our families? Are those shiny new toys really worth it? Do we really need...?
What if we deliberately reduced our Christmas spending and used that money to help others? Others in far more desperate need?
What if we skipped some of the coolest toys and gadgets, and instead bought goats? Or chickens? For a family whose life would be changed by our kindness.
What if we invested our money in providing education for a child somewhere in that other world? Or maybe supported a clean water project that sets up wells to help entire communities enjoy safe drinking water?
What if this Christmas we looked beyond "us" and made a difference for "them?" Could we clear our eyes of all the glitter and excitement, promoted by shiny baubles and mall music, and reach out beyond our own world to really make an impact?
Just think about what could happen. We could change a life. We could offer hope. It seems to me that's the true spirit of Christmas. And yet it is so very difficult.
Visit www.worldvisiongifts.org (or another such organization) to learn how to help in these types of projects and more.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Giving Thanks
Thanksgiving is upon us again, and visions of pilgrims and natives and turkeys dance through my head. I suppose it all started with a simple, undeserved act of kindness, extended across cultural bounds, that proved to be life-saving and life-changing. With that in mind I offer up my thanks to the Giver of every good and perfect gift:
for the seasons that remind me that everything has its time,
for the little yellow and orange leaves that crunch beneath my feet,
for your Word that speaks your love to me,
for your people whose lives have pointed me to you,
for my precious children who teach me so much about myself even as I try to teach them,
for my failures as a mother that cause me to marvel at your perfection as a Father,
for my loving husband who makes me smile,
for beautiful music that stirs the soul,
for the vast sky that reminds me I am small,
for family and friends who surround us with love,
for children's giggles and bear hugs,
for furry wiggles and wagging tails,
for blessings numbered like the stars,
for freedom,
for love,
for life.
Yes, it all started with that undeserved act of kindness, extended across cultural bounds, that proved to be life-saving and life-changing... Thank you for the cross.
for the seasons that remind me that everything has its time,
for the little yellow and orange leaves that crunch beneath my feet,
for your Word that speaks your love to me,
for your people whose lives have pointed me to you,
for my precious children who teach me so much about myself even as I try to teach them,
for my failures as a mother that cause me to marvel at your perfection as a Father,
for my loving husband who makes me smile,
for beautiful music that stirs the soul,
for the vast sky that reminds me I am small,
for family and friends who surround us with love,
for children's giggles and bear hugs,
for furry wiggles and wagging tails,
for blessings numbered like the stars,
for freedom,
for love,
for life.
Yes, it all started with that undeserved act of kindness, extended across cultural bounds, that proved to be life-saving and life-changing... Thank you for the cross.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Lessons From a Corn Maze
If I had my own corn maze, I'd call it The Amazing Maize Maze. Really, I can't believe I've never seen a corn maze with that name. There must be one somewhere.
I went to a corn maze twice last week, having never been to one before, and it was interesting. Looking at the map, it seems like a lot of fun. The paths are cleverly arranged to make a picture. You get to walk around through corn, which just doesn't happen every day. And the days I went to the maze were beautiful and sunny, with cheerful skies. What's not to like?
But, the whole point of a maze is to try to find your way out, which necessarily implies that there are lots of ways that do not lead out. And I happen to have some issues with getting lost. I don't like it. Not even the thought of it, really. But if my kids were up for the maze, then I was, too.
As we went through the maze (happily following a guide, which I think is kind of like cheating), we passed through an intersection and my son asked why we didn't take a different route. I explained that not all the paths lead back out. He asked why not. I asked him how much fun it would be to do a maze if we knew every path would lead out, so there was no way to "lose." He thought about it, and answered that it wouldn't be any fun.
Exactly. It's a paradox: without the chance of losing, winning is meaningless. Why even bother unless you just like walking around in the corn (which, in itself, is interesting for a certain amount of time)?
Another thing about the maze is that there are lots of paths people can choose to follow. But not all of them will take you where you aim to go, no matter how sincere you may be. Some of them are simply dead ends. And so it is in life, on so many levels.
Life is truly amazeing! (Yeah, that was bad, but I just couldn't resist!)
I went to a corn maze twice last week, having never been to one before, and it was interesting. Looking at the map, it seems like a lot of fun. The paths are cleverly arranged to make a picture. You get to walk around through corn, which just doesn't happen every day. And the days I went to the maze were beautiful and sunny, with cheerful skies. What's not to like?
But, the whole point of a maze is to try to find your way out, which necessarily implies that there are lots of ways that do not lead out. And I happen to have some issues with getting lost. I don't like it. Not even the thought of it, really. But if my kids were up for the maze, then I was, too.
As we went through the maze (happily following a guide, which I think is kind of like cheating), we passed through an intersection and my son asked why we didn't take a different route. I explained that not all the paths lead back out. He asked why not. I asked him how much fun it would be to do a maze if we knew every path would lead out, so there was no way to "lose." He thought about it, and answered that it wouldn't be any fun.
Exactly. It's a paradox: without the chance of losing, winning is meaningless. Why even bother unless you just like walking around in the corn (which, in itself, is interesting for a certain amount of time)?
Another thing about the maze is that there are lots of paths people can choose to follow. But not all of them will take you where you aim to go, no matter how sincere you may be. Some of them are simply dead ends. And so it is in life, on so many levels.
Life is truly amazeing! (Yeah, that was bad, but I just couldn't resist!)
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Reformation Day Challenge
Today we celebrate Reformation Day (and you thought it was Halloween!), remembering Martin Luther's nailing of his "95 Theses" to the Wittenberg church door in an attempt to start a dialogue with the Catholic Church. This act changed the course of history and Christianity as Luther challenged powerful church officials by rightly asserting that salvation comes by grace alone, through faith alone, rather than by good deeds and work.
Luther did not set out to start a new church, but was concerned about specific ways the church of the time had strayed from biblical teaching. He held up the Bible as the authoritative Word of God, higher than church doctrine and teachings. Martin Luther was passionate about the Bible, and translated it into the German vernacular (as opposed to Latin), making it accessible to everyday people.
You and I are blessed today to have so many English translations of the Bible available. But what if we only had access to the Bible in Latin? Or Russian? Or Swahili? How well would we understand it? How would our faith flourish?
In honor of Reformation Day, I invite you to check out the work of Wycliffe Bible Translators (www.wycliffe.org), a Christian organization busy making God's Word accessible to the everyday people of the world. There are currently more than 2000 languages in the world, spoken by about 350 million people, that have no part of the Bible in their native tongue. Of the 6800+ languages in the world, only 471 have the entire Bible available to them in the language they best understand.
The task is great. The workers are few. Consider how you might play a part in bringing God's Word - and the message of salvation by grace, through faith - to the everyday people of the world so the truth may set them free. Let freedom ring! Happy Reformation Day!
Luther did not set out to start a new church, but was concerned about specific ways the church of the time had strayed from biblical teaching. He held up the Bible as the authoritative Word of God, higher than church doctrine and teachings. Martin Luther was passionate about the Bible, and translated it into the German vernacular (as opposed to Latin), making it accessible to everyday people.
You and I are blessed today to have so many English translations of the Bible available. But what if we only had access to the Bible in Latin? Or Russian? Or Swahili? How well would we understand it? How would our faith flourish?
In honor of Reformation Day, I invite you to check out the work of Wycliffe Bible Translators (www.wycliffe.org), a Christian organization busy making God's Word accessible to the everyday people of the world. There are currently more than 2000 languages in the world, spoken by about 350 million people, that have no part of the Bible in their native tongue. Of the 6800+ languages in the world, only 471 have the entire Bible available to them in the language they best understand.
The task is great. The workers are few. Consider how you might play a part in bringing God's Word - and the message of salvation by grace, through faith - to the everyday people of the world so the truth may set them free. Let freedom ring! Happy Reformation Day!
Friday, October 19, 2012
A Communion Surprise
It was Sunday morning at church a couple weeks ago, just as Jon and I began to make our way up to communion, when Will decided to come with us. But first, let me set the stage.
I know there are a lot of different ways for churches to carry out the Lord's Supper... passing it around, walking up to the altar, common cup, individual cups, etc. Our church proceeds to the altar for communion, and typically our own children remain in their seats.
Under our previous pastor it was the custom for children to remain in their seats for whatever reason while the adults went forward for communion. Last year a new pastor came to town, and there has been a shift toward having the children come forward, too, and receive a little blessing. But our family has not really made that change yet.
So Will suddenly decided he wanted to come up front with us and see what it was all about. Great, no problem. In the back of my mind I kind of wished I had a bit of time to explain the details more to him, but it was fine.
All the adults received communion and then our pastor came back around to the kids. He stood in front of Will and raised his hand over him in blessing. Will looked at him, assessed the situation, and promptly responded with a high five. I did all I could to keep my laughter from bursting forth!
Our pastor hardly missed a beat, but it took Jon and me several minutes to get over the communion high five.
I know there are a lot of different ways for churches to carry out the Lord's Supper... passing it around, walking up to the altar, common cup, individual cups, etc. Our church proceeds to the altar for communion, and typically our own children remain in their seats.
Under our previous pastor it was the custom for children to remain in their seats for whatever reason while the adults went forward for communion. Last year a new pastor came to town, and there has been a shift toward having the children come forward, too, and receive a little blessing. But our family has not really made that change yet.
So Will suddenly decided he wanted to come up front with us and see what it was all about. Great, no problem. In the back of my mind I kind of wished I had a bit of time to explain the details more to him, but it was fine.
All the adults received communion and then our pastor came back around to the kids. He stood in front of Will and raised his hand over him in blessing. Will looked at him, assessed the situation, and promptly responded with a high five. I did all I could to keep my laughter from bursting forth!
Our pastor hardly missed a beat, but it took Jon and me several minutes to get over the communion high five.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Fundraising Blues
Oh how I hate fundraising! It may be necessary to many programs, but I despise it just the same. For the past few weeks, between my two school-age kids, we've been obligated to four fundraisers. Four. At the same time. I'm sure the neighbors were hiding in their homes when they saw our little troop walking down the street!
There was one fundraiser for Anna and another one for Will, and then one that they were both having to do. It was quite the challenge for me to try to make sure the sales for each of them pretty much balanced out to win the same prizes (since no one was especially motivated to sell).
And don't even get me started about those prizes they dangle before our unsuspecting children. "Sell 500 items and win your very own iPod!" That one really had Anna going. Sadly (or lucky for me) she still was not sufficently motivated to actually go door to door to achieve the coveted prize. But she did moan about what could have been. Thanks, fundraiser! Everyone needs a little more complaining around the house.
I spent several hours online setting up my kids with accounts so they could sell online. We sent out emails and postcards to innocent family and friends in the hope that someone would take pity on us and buy something. Apologies to all of you (we actually got some kind of credit just for handing over your information whether you bought anything or not)!
I would be just as happy (happier, really) to simply write a check for a donation to the organization and then pick up a couple cheap toys at the dollar store for my kids' amusement. It would definitely save me money compared to, say... spending $100 on fundraiser items I don't really need so my kids could "win" some stickers or a plastic toy.
I'm sure some studies have probably shown that fundraising is the way to go (versus asking parents for straight donations). But I hate it because I always feel so conflicted during a fundraiser. On the one hand I feel compelled to do our best for "the team" and to do our fair share. On the other hand I feel like a nuisance for pestering friends, family, and neighbors in order to sell our stuff. It really is a great relief when the selling ends.
So here's a huge "thank you" to everyone who bought something from us over the past few weeks! And the good news is that we are down to just one fundraiser, which we have actually been fairly successful with, so I think we're in the clear for a while. Of course, before I know it, it will be cookie-selling season. But who doesn't love cookies?
There was one fundraiser for Anna and another one for Will, and then one that they were both having to do. It was quite the challenge for me to try to make sure the sales for each of them pretty much balanced out to win the same prizes (since no one was especially motivated to sell).
And don't even get me started about those prizes they dangle before our unsuspecting children. "Sell 500 items and win your very own iPod!" That one really had Anna going. Sadly (or lucky for me) she still was not sufficently motivated to actually go door to door to achieve the coveted prize. But she did moan about what could have been. Thanks, fundraiser! Everyone needs a little more complaining around the house.
I spent several hours online setting up my kids with accounts so they could sell online. We sent out emails and postcards to innocent family and friends in the hope that someone would take pity on us and buy something. Apologies to all of you (we actually got some kind of credit just for handing over your information whether you bought anything or not)!
I would be just as happy (happier, really) to simply write a check for a donation to the organization and then pick up a couple cheap toys at the dollar store for my kids' amusement. It would definitely save me money compared to, say... spending $100 on fundraiser items I don't really need so my kids could "win" some stickers or a plastic toy.
I'm sure some studies have probably shown that fundraising is the way to go (versus asking parents for straight donations). But I hate it because I always feel so conflicted during a fundraiser. On the one hand I feel compelled to do our best for "the team" and to do our fair share. On the other hand I feel like a nuisance for pestering friends, family, and neighbors in order to sell our stuff. It really is a great relief when the selling ends.
So here's a huge "thank you" to everyone who bought something from us over the past few weeks! And the good news is that we are down to just one fundraiser, which we have actually been fairly successful with, so I think we're in the clear for a while. Of course, before I know it, it will be cookie-selling season. But who doesn't love cookies?
Friday, October 5, 2012
Where Can I Find a Classic Movie? Or a Kid Show? Or...?
Okay, what is it with all these television networks changing up their formats? Most recently Nick Jr, known for its preschool programming, added an adult-themed NickMom line-up that starts at 10:00 pm complete with stand-up comedy and "reality" shows. Granted, there probably aren't too many preschoolers up that late watching tv, but family circumstances can vary greatly, and wouldn't it be nice to know you can count on a kid channel to have kid programming? Maybe that's just me.
This isn't the first case of station identity crisis. AMC (American Movie Classics) proudly boasts its series, The Walking Dead (among others). Movie? No. Classic? No. I guess it's at least American? Travel Channel features food shows; Food Network promotes travel shows. And when is the last time anyone has seen music videos on MTV? Dire Straits is left wondering why they wanted their MTV to begin with.
Does any of this matter? Not so much really, in the big scheme of things. And some of these cross-overs have resulted in some truly fine entertainment. But still it leaves one asking, "what's in a name?" Why even have a name and a self-proclaimed genre if you then abandon it as you please? Some may call it progress or an evolution of sorts. Or maybe it's just an identity crisis resulting from trying too hard to chase the money.
This isn't the first case of station identity crisis. AMC (American Movie Classics) proudly boasts its series, The Walking Dead (among others). Movie? No. Classic? No. I guess it's at least American? Travel Channel features food shows; Food Network promotes travel shows. And when is the last time anyone has seen music videos on MTV? Dire Straits is left wondering why they wanted their MTV to begin with.
Does any of this matter? Not so much really, in the big scheme of things. And some of these cross-overs have resulted in some truly fine entertainment. But still it leaves one asking, "what's in a name?" Why even have a name and a self-proclaimed genre if you then abandon it as you please? Some may call it progress or an evolution of sorts. Or maybe it's just an identity crisis resulting from trying too hard to chase the money.
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