One String

"We cannot change our past.  We cannot change the fact that people act in a certain way.  We cannot change the inevitable.  The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude."

-Charles Swindoll

So, the question for you and me today is:
What kind of music are we playing?

Massive Pile of Laundry

I had a precious friend in college (Mary Clai--Anybody know how she is?) who once described life like this:

"It's like you are carrying a huge load of laundry in your arms.  And stretch and strain as you might, you just can't get your hands around everything.  And you shift this way and drop a sock, and then you compensate that way and lose a shirt.  And no matter how hard you try, the pile is just too big, and you are bound to drop a few things along the way." 

(rough rememberance, of course)

And I must admit that with blog write-ups and announcements and doctor's appointments, my last few weeks have felt that way.  It's like my arms are strained around this massive pile of laundry that has no hope of all staying in my arms.  This week it's been the cleanliness of my room that's dropped to the ground, along with my planning and fixing of meals (yup, lots of cereal lately).  Tonight Matt and I spent way too many hours hammering out a website for Thailand (which still has spelling errors, I'm sure), and the to-do list sitting on the counter makes me want to hyperventilate.  BUT, as my mom said earlier this week, "You just gotta do the most important, next thing."  And I like that.  It's simple and true and takes the pressure off.  I reckon the real trick is in deciding what to hold on to and what to let go. 

And I am speaking figuratively here, but I do expect that a few socks will fall to the floor over the next few days.  But, rest assured, I plan to keep my fist clinched around my favorite pair of jeans.  After all, some things are just too important to drop. 

Well.  Actually.  Maybe I'm speaking literally, too. 

  

Quote of the Day

"Let your religion be less of a theory and more of a love affair."

G. K. Chesterton

first read on  http://www.aholyexperience.com/

The Gerbil Wheel

Ever feel like life's a gerbil wheel?  Matt and I laugh that once fall hits, we are thrown into running the ol' gerbil wheel and have a hard time slowing down.  Homeschooling and schedules and carpools and ballet lessons and church events and friend outings and getting groceries and house repairs and organinzing kid stuff, not to mention the daily dishes and cleaning and laundry and meals.  Talk about a flurry of activity that gets to be moving pretty fast.  It's like being strapped to your treadmill which just happens to be jammed at 6.5 speed on a 7 degree incline--you can do it for a while, but it's hard to maintain, leaves you winded, and will probably trip you up at some point.

For me, the noise can drown out the quiet whispers of my heart's deepest needs.  I was looking through some old posts recently and came across this one that I wrote a while back.  I am recycling it here because I need to be reminded of what I was reminded of a year ago. 


As I was reading The Attentive Life by Leighton Ford, I came across this story that struck me. A guy named John Ortburg was hired at a megachurch and noticed that after a year of working, the quality of his spiritual life, and life in general, had declined. He called up his mentor, Dallas Willard, and asked him what to do. Dallas Willard gave this advice,

"Ruthlessly eliminate hurry."

John, with pencil in hand ready to make a list asked his mentor what was next. Dallas Willard responded that that was it. Just keep "ruthlessly eliminating hurry."

And I am challenged by this idea, as I find myself rushing so often. How many times do I plan too many activities in a morning, do I say, "hurry guys, come on, move it" to my kids, do I not leave enough margin in my plans? We live in a society of hurry and too much, and I find myself in a constant battle between having enough space to give myself and the kids freedom, while also having enough "things to do" so that I won't go absolutely crazy by being home all the time. Still working on striking that balance, but I do appreciate the reminder to slow down. To enjoy. To try to live life at a slower pace, so that I won't be as apt to miss it completely.

Quotable Kids

"

 "You know, Mom, don't you just love how it feels when you start to dance and spin?  Doesn't it just make you feel . . .  ya know, pretty?"

-Kelty, Age 6

I heard once from Dr. Kevin Lehmen (child psychologist, author) that every one of his five kids would tell you that they each thought that he or she was secretly Daddy's Favorite.  And I like that--not that I have true favorites, of course, but I like the idea that each of my kids feels close enough to me and special enough in my eyese that they could think they were my secret favorite.

So I tell them every night that they are just that--favorites.

To Kelty I'll say something like, "You are my very favorite ballerina in the whole world."

To Ava, "You are my most favoritest baby ever."

And to Cade last night before bed, "You are my favorite little boy in the whole earth."

To which he responded in turn with,

"And you are my favorite Lady-Who-Takes-Care-Of-People in the whole world."

At least I'm his favorite something.

Cute.   

We Were Wrong

A Church in Texas  ran a full-page ad in the Dallas Morning News.  Big black letters, boldly declaring an apology.  No excuses, no requests for money.  Just an admission and a plea for forgiveness.  In the last two years, this particular church has started to mean what they say by radically impacting their community and the world through finances and programs that give aid, relief, education, and the Good News of Jesus to thousands.


The full-page ad that greeted the public that day stated simply,

We Were Wrong

We followed trends when we should have followed Jesus.

We told others how to live but did not listen ourselves.

We live in the land of plenty, denying ourselves nothing,

while ignoring our neighbors who actually have nothing.

We sat on the sidelines doing nothing while AIDS ravaged Africa.

We were wrong; we're sorry.

Please forgive us.

And I say:  Right on, Bravo, Good for them.

The Soul and the American Dream

"Perhaps many dreams have been fulfilled--a move to a larger house, to vice president, to a condo after the kids have finally moved out--but the soul has become like a boarded-up discount store in an empty parking lot with weeds rising up out of the pavement cracks."

-David Goetz, Death by Suburb

"And what do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul?  Is anything worth more than your soul?"

--Jesus, Matthew 16:26

"God is in the slums, in the cardboard boxes where the poor play house.  God is in the silence of a mother who has infected her child with a virus that will end both their lives.  God is in the cries heard under the rubble of war.  God is in the debris of wasted opportunity and lives, and God is with us if we are with them."
-Bono, of U2

Heroes

"A hero is no braver than an ordinary man, but he is brave five minutes longer."

Ralph Waldo Emerson

"There are new words now that excuse

everybody. Give me the good old days of

heroes and villains, the people you can

bravo or hiss. There was a truth to them that all

the slick credulity of today can not touch. "

Bette Davis

 

"What has made this nation great? Not its heroes but its households."

Sarah Orne Jewett

"Nurture your mind with great thoughts;

to believe in the heroic makes heroes. "

Benjamin Disraeli

If I Led Better . . .

Bickering voices.
Unthankful hearts.
Critical spirits.
Rebellious attitudes.
A lack of service,
An abundance of self.

These are the things I correct, daily, in my children. These are the attitudes and actions that get verbal reprimands and long time-outs. And yet, while so much of my attention these days at home is given to trying to train out the ugly in them, I read something that has left me wondering what kind of job I am doing. . .

A Line.  I was glancing over one of my favorite blog-writers, Ann Voskamp, this week at A Holy Experience. She's a Canadian farmer's wife with six children, beautiful photography skills, and a pen that writes of life and truth and faith with artistic power. And while I can't identify with her lifestyle (my kids don't shuck corn in the summer or do chores at 5 am), I am deeply moved by much of what she writes. One line was hidden among a post she wrote recently about her kids, and it was simply,

"If I led better, you would follow better."

I can't remember the name of the post or even what the rest of the writing was about, but I haven't forgotten that one statement. "If I led better, you would follow better."

My Leadership.  And I think of my own little followers--the three young hearts that are around me for more hours in a day than anyone else on earth--and I am sobered and humbled. I have to ask myself, "In what ways am I teaching them . . .
a critical spirit towards others,
a selfish attitude that resents serving,
a distracted mind that is too busy for building relationships,
a faith that doesn't really change my daily life,
a God that is more about rules than heart,
a love that is convenient instead of extravagant and costly?"

And I know, I know, I am not totally responsible for their choices or their inner failings (which is a thread common in all of humanity). If Jesus Himself had biological kids on earth, I know He would have had to send them to time-out every now and again, but it still leaves me wondering.  I have to wonder if my own personal character and faith is a larger force on their hearts and behavior than any time-out I could enforce, lecture I could speak, or punishment I could hand out.

And, so, once again on this journey of motherhood, I am left reminded that--surprise, surprise-- I do not have it all together. I am left more dependent on a God who is in the business of redeeming my mistakes, and I am left inspired to not neglect my own heart and attitudes in the training of theirs.


For You.  As you walk through this next week, may you be aware of how you are leading those around you--your co-workers, the students in your class, your kids--and may your leadership, your way of being and loving, inspire your followers to greater living.

"Be the type of person you want your children (or those around you) to become."

A Blog -Fast

"Mom," she said accusingly, "You work at the computer too much. It seems like all you care about is working on that."

I distractedly began my list of the usual excuses, my eyes still on the laptop screen--just one more email, the fonts on the blog aren't quite right, these pictures will only take a sec more to load. But before the words  could leave my mouth, my six year-old drives the nail into the coffin of my ambition. She repeats a phrase I have used on occasion when she accidentally breaks an object in our house; "I mean, people are more important than things, Mom. Ya know?"

Ouch. True. From the mouths of babes.

Anything Good. Isn't it true in life that just about anything 'good' can get out of balance and can become more important or more time consuming than it really should? It's not that the thing or activity itself is 'bad,' its just the obsession we can make out of it that can discolor it. Exercise, food, success at work, a hobby, perfecting our appearance . . . um, blogging and writing and emailing. I must admit, now that the laptop is in the kitchen where most of my day happens, I am checking it far too often -emails and posts and pictures and other people's blogs and websites. I walk by her on the way to play cars with Cade or finish the laundry and I see her there--black screen, waiting. And so I give in.  I tell the kids I will be there in just "one minute", and I sit down and become distracted and consumed. And the next thing I know, someone is crying or the dinner should have been started an hour ago or someone I should be loving well gets ignored. And a good thing--a way for me to use my creativity and record my spiritual jouney and keep connected with others--becomes polluted because of my lack of self-control.

Think I'm being too hard on myself?  Check out the evidence from the past two days alone.  When I become an obsessive blogger . . . 

  
  . . . a whole lot more of this kind of thing starts to happen.




And if Kelty's statement yesterday and Ava's destruction weren't convicting enough, I was reading just this morning from Oswald Chambers and found the following: "It is the least likely thing that is the real danger. Beware of the undercurrent. Keep your memory sharp before God. The Bible characters stumbled over their strong points, never their weak ones." (April 19, My Utmost for His Highest) It seems like Someone is whispering for my attention on this issue, and I am determined to listen.

Fasting. In my own definition is: Giving up something for a time for the purpose of refocusing goals or for spiritual matters. And, so, in an effort to practically beware of my own distraction because of this little machine before which I sit, I am entering a little self-imposed computer fast. I may check a few emails, but you won't see another post for at least a week . . . maybe longer.  But, have no fear; I won't be bored.  I plan to watch the baby better with the markers, and I hope to really play with my children more this next week.  I plan to drop everything and hug my husband when he comes home from work and I want to read and pray more often during the day.  I hope that my kids see more of my focused smiles than my profile in front of a computer screen.  For me, this blog-fast is my next practical Christ-following move, my next step in personal obedience. 

The next week is one small laying down of the good and picking up the better.

An Invitation.   Is there anything in your life that is out of balance, consuming too much, occupying a place on the priority list higher than it should?  Wanna fast with me for a week from that whatever it is?  Television, computer, going to the gym, a relationship, an activity?  Drop me a comment and let me know (Though, in actuality, I won't be checking it for a week anyway.)  I would love to hear about what you are learning in your own journey . . .


So, friends, I am signing off in my very little corner of this cyber-world.  Cereal for Dinner will be quiet for a bit . . . . but I will be back eventually.  In the meantime, I am looking forward to a little fasting to help me live a bit more slowly.

Thirsty

"If anyone is thirsty, tired, soul-dry, discouraged, weary,

Let her come to Me, pursue Me, read My Words, talk to Me,

and drink.

Whoever believes, trusts, puts her weight on, has faith, in Me

as the Scripture has said,

streams of living water, kindness, life, truth, love,

will flow from within her,

spilling onto and blessing everyone she meets."

-Jesus, book of john 7:37-38

italics mine

photo courtesy National Geographic

Paying the Price

Night of Frustration.  My six-year-old slept worse than a newborn the other night.  It was "too dark," there were nightmares, she got too hot, she accidentally sucked her thumb, the covers weren't comfortable enough, and she needed more water in her cup beside the bed.  Each instance brought dramatic screams and tears, woke the baby in the next room, and required that my husband and I stumble up and down stairs in the middle of our REM cycles.  I was left with only a few hours of sleep and a mounting stack of resentment towards my passionately emotional daughter as I rushed off to a 7 am meeting the next day . . .  while she, of course, slept in better than a baby.

The Water that Spilled Over.  I thought I was over it by the time I returned home that morning--that I had forgiven her for pitching fits at 2:30 am and beyond.  As I walked up the stairs, she innocently said from the floor watching cartoons, "Mom, I'm hungry."  While this may be a normal statement for a Kindegartner to make, I immediately replied with Ursula-the-Sea-Witch intensity, "Well, go make yourself something then."

Someone once said, "A cup full of sweet water will spill sweet water, no matter how hard it is knocked."  Or, in the words of Jesus Himself, "Out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks."  It seemed to me as I stood there at the top of the stairs in the aftermath of yelling at my duaghter to fix her own breakfast that my cup was definitely not full of sweet water of any kind.  And, sadly, it only took a simple request from a sleepy six-year-old to "slosh that ugliness right on out" (as my mother-in-law would say).   

The Whisper.  But, unfortunately, as happens in the life of a mom with three small children, time to evaluate and apologize is fleeting in the midst of cereal bowls and finding shoes and hussling everyone out the door on time for a playdate at 10.  Yet then, in the semi-quiet of the front seat of the ol' minivan, I heard it.  The whisper.  The Divine nudge, the holy thought.  "You are the picture to your kids of what My forgiveness looks like.  Does My forgiveness look like what you are giving to Kelty right now?"  Gulp.  Um, no.  "What does My forgiveness look like?"  And immediately I thought of loving extravagance, of forgiving without expectation, of not holding a grudge.  I thought about how Jesus forgave--forgave injustices far beyond my interrupted sleep--and how He loved without crossing His arms and demanding proof or payment.

Paying the Price.  And, so, right there at the stoplight on Hwy 67, I had to make amends to my daughter.  I had to turn around and sincerely apologize for indulging in my bad mood and not offering her true forgiveness.  As a teacher said just this week, "Forgiveness means that you pay the price.  Justice means the other person pays the price for the wrong they committed. " (Kirk Greenstreet, Pastor of Community Church)  Offering forgiveness to Kelty in the car meant that I had to accept that I would pay the price of being tired that Thursday.  It meant that I stopped giviung her my own form of justice by inflicting emotional guilt or withholding my affection, and it meant that I needed to be the picture that day of the forgiveness of God Himself.

Amazing the transformations that can take place during the drive to a playgroup. 

"Forgive others, then, just as God in Jesus Christ has forgiven you."

-book of ephesians, Bible, chapter 4 verse 32

 

Faith like a Trampoline

As my friends and I have been talking about faith and what you really have to believe in order to follow Jesus with your life, I was reminded of Rob Bell's book Velvet Elvis. In the first chapter, he talks about faith in terms of brick walls and trampolines. Read for yourself these excerpts from the first chapter:

"When we jump, we begin to see the need for springs. The springs help make sense of these deeper realities that drive how we live every day. The springs aren't God. The springs aren't Jesus. The springs are statements and beliefs about our faith that help give words to the depth that we are experiencing in our jumping. I would call these the doctrines of the Christian faith.

They aren't the point.

They help us understand the point, but they are a means and not an end. We take them seriously, and at the same time we keep them in proper perspective. . .

It hit me while I was watching that for him (a man giving a lecture on the six-day literal creation) faith isn't a trampoline; it's a wall of bricks. Each of the core doctrines for him is like an individual brick that stacks on top of the others. If you pull one out, the whole wall starts to crumble. It appears quite strong and rigid, but if you begin to rethink or discuss even one brick, the whole thing is in danger . . .

One of the thing that happens in brickworld: you spend a lot of time talking about how right you are. Which of course leads to how wrong everybody else is. Which then leads to defending the wall. It struck me  . . .is that you rarely defend a trampoline. You invite people to jump on it with you.

I am far more interested in jumping that I am in arguing about whose trampoline is better. You rarely defend the things you love. You enjoy them and tell others about them and invite others to enjoy them with you.

Jesus invites everybody to jump.

And saying yes to the invitation doesn't mean we have to have it all figure out. This is an important thing to remember: I can jump and still have questions and doubts. I often meet people who are waiting to follow God until they have all their questions answered. They will be waiting for a long time, because if we knew everything, we'd be . . . God. So in the invitation to jump is an invitation to follow Jesus with all of our doubts and questions right there with us. "

rob bell, velvet elvis, pgs. 22-28


I am learning that faith is less about having the rigid brick wall all figured out and more about just choosing to get on the trampoline and jump, experiencing and living the Way of Jesus in the world. I am learning that the details of what you believe are much less important than simply enjoying a relationship with this God. In essence, I'm learning that jumping is leagues better than brick-laying.
If you haven't read Velvet Elvis yet, it's definitely worth your time. It is an authentic, outside-the-box look at Christian spirituality that rings true on so many levels.

Ordinary

When I think of ordinary, I think dishes in the sink and laundry piled in the floor. I think of the daily routine with children—up at 7, chores after breakfast, naps at 1 o’clock, teeth brushed before bed, lights out at 8. Ordinary means Tuesdays at 10:30 and the month of March. Ordinary to me speaks in the dull words of repetitive activity and television in the evenings. It slowly ushers in numbness as it quietly beats the drum of the status quo.

And so I rebel. I set my sights and my longings on the extraordinary—a lush vacation, a mission trip to a foreign land, the experience of a spiritual high, a move of some sort, anything new and seemingly more thrilling or more "important" than this very ordinary in which I find myself.

And yet, and yet, Thomas Merton, a classic Christian writer, says that “the highest form of spiritual development is to be ‘ordinary,’ " and Brennan Manning writes that we experience God best in the ordinariness of life, not in the search for the spiritual high or the extraordinary. And even the apostle Paul says in Romans, “Take your everyday, ordinary life—your eating, sleeping, and walking around life—and lay it before God as an offering. This is your spiritual act of worship” (Romans 12:1-2, The Message, NLT).

And, so, I am left challenged on this ordinary Saturday in August, heading back to the average evening responsibilities of fixing dinner and picking up toys. Can I be a Christ-follower in transformational ways even if I only ever experience the ordinary? Can the ordinary become an adventure I am passionate to live out--an adventure wrought with the Presence of the Holy and drenched in the wild love of the Divine? I have to believe that it can. I have to believe that my daily, ordinary moments are opportunities to live Love and experience Love in radical ways—with the pudgy arm of my two-year-old wrapped around my neck, in a romance with my husband that continues to be made new, with whispers in my heart while mopping the very dirty floor. I have to believe that when Jesus called me to follow Him, he didn't mean then, he meant right now.

Socrates said, “The unaware life is not worth living.” In the midst of the ordinary, the battle remains for me to wake up daily-- to engage my soul rather than just follow through with the motions before me. Maybe that's why Merton says that it's hardest to experience great spirituality in the ordinary, because the ordinary does have a subtle way of lulling us to sleep.


Here's to hoping that we're all a little more awake to the realities of God this week--amid the dishes and the squabbles and the routine, and not just outside of them.


Thanks for reading. Really.

A Mother who Read to Me

"You may have tangible wealth untold: caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.

Richer than I you can never be. I had a mother who read to me."

-Strickland Gillilan

I am thankful for summertime afternoons reading library books on the back porch.

I am thankful for my friend Amanda who inspires me with literature and who shared this quote in the first place.

And, most of all, I am thankful for hours listening to my own mother invite me into the worlds of The Chronicles of Narnia, Laura Ingalls Wilder, Anne of Green Gables, the Bible, and others. In my elementary years I may have had to wear hand-me-downs and generic name-brand shoes, but my childhood was truly rich by another definition.
So, Moms, keep reading to your little people.

Sisters

The best thing about having a sister was that I always had a friend. ~Cali Rae Turner

Children of the same family, the same blood, with the same first associations and habits, have some means of enjoyment in their power, which no subsequent connections can supply... ~Jane Austen, Mansfield Park, 1814

A sister can be seen as someone who is both ourselves and very much not ourselves - a special kind of double. ~Toni Morrison

Sisters are different flowers from the same garden. ~Author Unknown

In the Middle

The following excerpts from Donald Miller's newest book, as posted on his blog, have gotten me thinking about being in the middle--not in the exciting, hopeful beginning and not in the feeling-accomplished, final-push end. The following paragraph is how Don Miller describes being in just this place:

"I think this is when most people give up on their stories. They come out of college wanting to change the world, wanting to get married, wanting to have kids and change the way people buy office supplies. But they get into the middle and discover it was harder than they thought. They can’t see the distant shore anymore, and they wonder if their paddling is moving them forward. None of the trees behind them are getting smaller and none of the trees ahead are getting bigger. They take it out on their spouse, and they go looking for an easier story. . . ."

Are you in the middle of anything today? A marriage that isn't as exciting anymore. Parenting a child who is more frustrating than cute and cuddly. A job that feels boring and meaningless. Friendships that have gotten stale. An ordinary day at home with the kids that seems to be dragging on and on. Paying off debt, which never seems to really die. Faith that has lost its emotional high.

I agree with Miller that paddling in the middle is hard. It takes determined endurance and gritty choices. Paddling in the middle requires a faith that believes forward movement is happening, and it asks for a perseverance that defies obstacles or distance. It doesn't promise to feel good and it doesn't prove easy, either. But be encouraged. As Miller writes, the other side of the lake is bound to show up sometime--just keep paddling for it.

"It’s like this with every crossing, and with nearly every story too. You paddle until you no longer believe you can go any further. And then suddenly, well after you thought it would happen, the other shore starts to grow, and it grows fast. The trees get taller and you make out the crags in the cliffs and then the shore reaches out to you to welcome you home, almost pulling your boat onto the sand."

--All quotes taken from Donald Miller, Chapter 26 "The Thing About a Crossing" from his new book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years

Nobody but Yourself

"To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best day and night to make you everybody else, means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight, and never stop fighting."

-e.e. cummings

My Offering

I wrote this this morning as I was struggling with the importance of my day . . .

My Offering

I don't have much talent,
And I don't come with riches.
I'm not at all famous,
or beautiful,
or strong.
I'm not walking through fiery trials,
Nor am I tasting much glory.
I don't have big accomplishments,
or even big dreams,
to lay at Your feet.
But this I do have,
that's mine-and only mine--
to give:
This day, My day.
With its sibling rivalry and its messes.
With its constant noise and its dirty faces.
With its playing pretend and its hours to fill.
This day is my offering.
And it may not be much,
but it's what You've given me
to give back
to You.


"So here's what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life--your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life--and place it before God as an offering. . . . Fix your attention on God. You'll be changed from the inside out." -Paul in Romans 12:1,2 (The Message version of the Bible)

No Ordinary People

Once again laid low by a Lewis quote which speaks right tto he heart of my struggle with a critical spirit . . .

"There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilisations--these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit. . . . This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn: We must play. But our merriment must be of the kind which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously--no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption. And our charity must be a real and costly love. . . Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbour is the holiest object presented to your senses."

--And not to be an ignorant doofus, but I think "Blessed Sacrament" is Jesus Himself . . . right?

-C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory, as quoted in A Year with C.S. Lewis