Unlike most of my peers, I did not grow up believing in Santa Claus. He was never a real or magical character in our house. I have never mailed Santa a letter (although as an assignment during elementary school, I had to write Santa a letter and felt very silly writing to a make-believe person). I've never sat on a kindly old bearded stranger's lap and told him of my wish list. Never have I ever feared receiving coal in my stocking.
As I've been pondering what I want holiday traditions in my own house to look like, I default, as I think many of us do, to what is familiar. I have assumed, without giving a tremendous amount of thought as to why, I wouldn't teach my children about Santa. Until this week, the passing reasons for this were that, 1) I don't want to lie to my children-- not even about whimsical fictitious characters (Santa, Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy, and certainly not that creepy ol' Elf on the Shelf), and 2) I didn't grow up believing in any of them.
But recently, I've evaluated why I am uncomfortable with the idea of instilling in my children a belief about Santa Claus. I do not judge or snub my nose at parents who choose differently. I don't have the "right" way. I do think, however, that it's important to challenge our own ways of thinking. Tradition for tradition's sake isn't a good enough reason TO do something... or to NOT do something.
Here's what I've come up with: I don't want to bring Santa into my children's Christmas traditions because the commercial ideas surrounding this jolly old soul are completely opposite of the real, true focus of Christmas. No, I don't think Santa is evil and I'm not a "all things secular are synonymous with raging war on Christmas" individual. Slow down. Hear me out.
With Santa, you gain access to him once a year;
with Christ, His presence is always with us.
With Santa, you tell him what fleeting thing you want each year;
with Christ, He knows your greatest need before you even ask.
With Santa, if you behave, you are entitled to presents;
with Jesus, there is nothing you can do to earn the gift of salvation.
With Santa, you act nicely in order to receive;
with Jesus, you receive and then respond in overflowing grateful devotion and obedience.
With Santa, you receive gifts if you're good;
with Jesus, you receive the ultimate gift because you aren't good. .
With Santa, he comes to bring presents;
with Christ, His life was the present.
Isn't one of these two characters infinitely much more magnificent? I don't want to spend precious moments of the few advent seasons I have with my little one focusing on a fable... when Christ's birth and life is so much richer.
As we progress through this month, I challenge you (and myself) to consider meaning and purpose in your celebrations rather than going through the rote motions. Our enjoyment of this season will be deeper and richer for it.
Showing posts with label Ooh that's deep. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ooh that's deep. Show all posts
2.16.2018
Why I Will See 3 O'Clock Twice Today
It is presently 5:16am and I have been awake for several hours. This time, I can't blame the baby or the insomnia. My soul is troubled. My soul is troubled in a way that glossy-eyed scrolling through social media, dominoes on my cell phone, and watching one more cute corgi video will not distract.
In April 1999, I was a 14-year old freshman whose naive bubble got a little bit deflated when I saw headlines of a horrific school shooting that took place several states away. I devoured two books about lives of two 17-year old Christian girls whose lives were taken in hopes of wrapping my head around any possible good that might have come out of the tragedy.
In April 2007, I was a month away from being a college graduate when Facebook notifications began rolling in from long-time friends who attended a university expressing confusion, fear, anger, and pain over their classmates' lives who were either confirmed dead by gun-shot or not yet accounted for. A week later, my university went on lock-down when two armed suspects were spotted near the student union building.
In April 2011, I was an elementary school music teacher who had just taped construction paper over the door windows and was frantically trying to keep my 27 sixth graders quiet during the excruciatingly long intruder drill. As police and their K-9 unit ran through the halls, shaking door handles and shouting, I found myself conflicted in reassuring the obviously fearful students that this was "just a drill" and whisper-scolding the ones whose fear masqueraded in thinly-veiled bravado and sarcasm.
It is now February 2018. I have a daughter who is the most precious, beautiful child I have ever laid eyes on. One day far too soon, I am going to have to have a discussion with her about the bad things that happen in the world. Yes, we will talk about sin and the heart. Yes, we will talk about alerting the authorities if she sees something potentially harmful. Yes, we will talk about recognizing and taking care of your needs-- physical, emotional, and mental. Yes, we will talk about doing the right thing and trying to protect others within your abilities. Yes, we will talk about how it's the job of parents to raise their children to be kind and respectful toward others. Yes, we will talk about mourning with others who are hurting. Then, we will not only talk about praying, but we will actually pray for and with people those who are in pain. If she wants to learn how to hunt or skeet shoot, I will absolutely educate her on gun safety.
But we will also talk about how we live in a country with elected government officials who we choose because we hope that they will help our city, state, and country be a safer place to live. And we will talk about the fact that sometimes we have to give up things that we want or desire to do because it isn't good or safe for us or others. And we will talk about how tradition and the excuse that "it has always been done this way" is not a good enough reason not to seek new, creative solutions to challenging problems. And we will talk about having courage to recognize when talking is no longer enough, but action is required.
I am not ready to have those conversations and I am grateful that I do not have to yet. For those of you who have and are currently, I will covet your knowledge and experience when that time comes. But right now, I am going to go hold my tiny 14-pound human and watch puppy YouTube videos.
In April 1999, I was a 14-year old freshman whose naive bubble got a little bit deflated when I saw headlines of a horrific school shooting that took place several states away. I devoured two books about lives of two 17-year old Christian girls whose lives were taken in hopes of wrapping my head around any possible good that might have come out of the tragedy.
In April 2007, I was a month away from being a college graduate when Facebook notifications began rolling in from long-time friends who attended a university expressing confusion, fear, anger, and pain over their classmates' lives who were either confirmed dead by gun-shot or not yet accounted for. A week later, my university went on lock-down when two armed suspects were spotted near the student union building.
In April 2011, I was an elementary school music teacher who had just taped construction paper over the door windows and was frantically trying to keep my 27 sixth graders quiet during the excruciatingly long intruder drill. As police and their K-9 unit ran through the halls, shaking door handles and shouting, I found myself conflicted in reassuring the obviously fearful students that this was "just a drill" and whisper-scolding the ones whose fear masqueraded in thinly-veiled bravado and sarcasm.
It is now February 2018. I have a daughter who is the most precious, beautiful child I have ever laid eyes on. One day far too soon, I am going to have to have a discussion with her about the bad things that happen in the world. Yes, we will talk about sin and the heart. Yes, we will talk about alerting the authorities if she sees something potentially harmful. Yes, we will talk about recognizing and taking care of your needs-- physical, emotional, and mental. Yes, we will talk about doing the right thing and trying to protect others within your abilities. Yes, we will talk about how it's the job of parents to raise their children to be kind and respectful toward others. Yes, we will talk about mourning with others who are hurting. Then, we will not only talk about praying, but we will actually pray for and with people those who are in pain. If she wants to learn how to hunt or skeet shoot, I will absolutely educate her on gun safety.
But we will also talk about how we live in a country with elected government officials who we choose because we hope that they will help our city, state, and country be a safer place to live. And we will talk about the fact that sometimes we have to give up things that we want or desire to do because it isn't good or safe for us or others. And we will talk about how tradition and the excuse that "it has always been done this way" is not a good enough reason not to seek new, creative solutions to challenging problems. And we will talk about having courage to recognize when talking is no longer enough, but action is required.
I am not ready to have those conversations and I am grateful that I do not have to yet. For those of you who have and are currently, I will covet your knowledge and experience when that time comes. But right now, I am going to go hold my tiny 14-pound human and watch puppy YouTube videos.
10.19.2016
An Unsexy and Unpolitical Post About an Unsexy and Unpolitical Discussion
Dust off those imaginations with me for a moment. I promise, it won't hurt. Now let's pretend, just for a minute-- are you ready?-- that we don't all know everything.
Whew. Still with me? Good. Moving on.
Unless you have been hibernating under a moon rock, the fact that a growing list of individuals claiming that the current Republican Presidential nominee sexually assaulted them has been all over everything, everywhere, should not come as news to you. I've heard everyone from television personalities to the couple selecting chips in the grocery store to the second graders in children's church talking about it. At the risk of adding white noise to an already extremely contentious discussion, I'd like to suggest that the present discourse is lacking two key elements: humility and compassion.
First up, humility. This election is unlike any other in history and media sensationalism is unlike I've ever seen. So, too, is the seeming wide-spread assumption that we all possess secret knowledge about these politicians' and women's motives. "Isn't the timing of these allegations surfacing obviously just a publicity stunt?" "Are they embellishing their account for shock factor?" "Why would any rational human being wait so many years before publicly facing their abuser?" Listen. I have no idea if these accounts are true or not. I don't know what motivated each woman to step into the spotlight at this particular time. Countless speculations are out there and that's not what I intend to address.
Humility matters because it admits our inability to know these women's motives for remaining silent and, also, for stepping up to speak. It is much easier to denounce these individuals as frauds and liars and attention-seekers when they are just names in an article or unfamiliar faces on a screen. (I'm going to assume that anyone reading this probably doesn't personally know any of these women). But what if that face on the screen belonged to daughter? Your sister? Your best friend? Your significant other?
Can I get a bit personal for a minute? The past weekish has been pretty uncomfortable for a lot of us who have personally been sexually assaulted. Yes, I am sure the language repeated throughout the media rattles some, but for most of us, it goes much deeper. Regardless of the form of sexual assault, its potential to heap fear, shame, guilt, and hopelessness onto a person is extremely real and affecting. Fear, for instance, that you will share something deeply personal only to have your experience dismissed, downplayed, or disbelieved. Fear that the aggressor, if confronted, will only get a slap on the wrist and continue, or worse yet, turn the tables against you, the victim (as is very possible with a charismatic person or someone with power) and slander your reputation. Fear that reporting what should be reported will mean having to recount the details of your very personal trauma to strangers and acquaintances alike. Shame that your physical person has been violated and that violation transcends beyond the physical to the emotional, mental, and possibly, spiritual as well. Shame that taunts, "You are weak and cannot protect yourself." Shame that belittles, "You belong to someone else and shall be treated as they see fit." Shame that stares back in the mirror at the bruises or marks and mocks, "You are tainted and everyone else can see it just as plainly as you do in the mirror now." Guilt that weighs down each day with the accusation that you brought this upon yourself somehow. Guilt that sneeringly suggests, "By doing or wearing such and such, you were basically begging for it." Guilt that maybe you could have stopped or prevented it if you had responded differently. Guilt that can paralyze from seeking comfort in religious circles for fear of appearing less pure or "less Christian." Hopelessness that publicly recounting your nightmare will only serve as a more constant reminder of an instance you would prefer forget happened. Hopelessness that the only result of ever saying anything will be pity. Hopelessness that it often comes down to one person's word against another and the law will fail you. Hopelessness that hints that maybe it's just easier to attempt to numb or repress the pain than face it.
So please. Do me and every other woman or man who has been sexually assaulted a favor and consider these public allegations with a strong dose of humility. To you, it may seem implausible that legitimate victims would have chosen to go public with their stories of harassment or assault until this particular moment in time. But without bearing in mind that you do not know their motives, however unintentional, the strong doubt cast upon these possible victims may confirm the feelings of fear, shame, guilt, and hopelessness that your daughter or sister or best friend or significant other may be plagued with.
While many applauded the First Lady's passionate speech fervently, many others responded with trite memes, cries of hypocrisy for inviting rap artists to the White House, comparisons of how what was dismissed as "locker room talk" is no worse than what is consumed as mass entertainment, or pointing back at a former President, in the same manner that a child might, and saying, "Oh yeeeeah? Well look at what HE did!" None of these responses, or the myriad of others like it, move the discussion forward in a helpful manner.
Can I suggest that a little compassion added to this discussion of sexual assault is long overdue? We are completely missing the point if, before resuming our political mudslinging, we neglect to stop and consider the very real fact that women and men (because, let's be honest, men are victimized too) are experiencing sexual assault every single day in ways that can define a person's view of self-worth. And these individuals aren't just faceless victims. They are your loved ones: friends or co-workers who may be watching to see how these conversations about traumatic sexual experiences unfold. Family members who may be watching YOUR response to these public allegations to gauge whether they can trust you with their private burdens.
So please, dear reader, before assuming you know why these women stepped into the spotlight to confront the Republican nominee when they did, proceed with caution and-- most importantly-- with humility and compassion.
Whew. Still with me? Good. Moving on.
Unless you have been hibernating under a moon rock, the fact that a growing list of individuals claiming that the current Republican Presidential nominee sexually assaulted them has been all over everything, everywhere, should not come as news to you. I've heard everyone from television personalities to the couple selecting chips in the grocery store to the second graders in children's church talking about it. At the risk of adding white noise to an already extremely contentious discussion, I'd like to suggest that the present discourse is lacking two key elements: humility and compassion.
First up, humility. This election is unlike any other in history and media sensationalism is unlike I've ever seen. So, too, is the seeming wide-spread assumption that we all possess secret knowledge about these politicians' and women's motives. "Isn't the timing of these allegations surfacing obviously just a publicity stunt?" "Are they embellishing their account for shock factor?" "Why would any rational human being wait so many years before publicly facing their abuser?" Listen. I have no idea if these accounts are true or not. I don't know what motivated each woman to step into the spotlight at this particular time. Countless speculations are out there and that's not what I intend to address.
Humility matters because it admits our inability to know these women's motives for remaining silent and, also, for stepping up to speak. It is much easier to denounce these individuals as frauds and liars and attention-seekers when they are just names in an article or unfamiliar faces on a screen. (I'm going to assume that anyone reading this probably doesn't personally know any of these women). But what if that face on the screen belonged to daughter? Your sister? Your best friend? Your significant other?
Can I get a bit personal for a minute? The past weekish has been pretty uncomfortable for a lot of us who have personally been sexually assaulted. Yes, I am sure the language repeated throughout the media rattles some, but for most of us, it goes much deeper. Regardless of the form of sexual assault, its potential to heap fear, shame, guilt, and hopelessness onto a person is extremely real and affecting. Fear, for instance, that you will share something deeply personal only to have your experience dismissed, downplayed, or disbelieved. Fear that the aggressor, if confronted, will only get a slap on the wrist and continue, or worse yet, turn the tables against you, the victim (as is very possible with a charismatic person or someone with power) and slander your reputation. Fear that reporting what should be reported will mean having to recount the details of your very personal trauma to strangers and acquaintances alike. Shame that your physical person has been violated and that violation transcends beyond the physical to the emotional, mental, and possibly, spiritual as well. Shame that taunts, "You are weak and cannot protect yourself." Shame that belittles, "You belong to someone else and shall be treated as they see fit." Shame that stares back in the mirror at the bruises or marks and mocks, "You are tainted and everyone else can see it just as plainly as you do in the mirror now." Guilt that weighs down each day with the accusation that you brought this upon yourself somehow. Guilt that sneeringly suggests, "By doing or wearing such and such, you were basically begging for it." Guilt that maybe you could have stopped or prevented it if you had responded differently. Guilt that can paralyze from seeking comfort in religious circles for fear of appearing less pure or "less Christian." Hopelessness that publicly recounting your nightmare will only serve as a more constant reminder of an instance you would prefer forget happened. Hopelessness that the only result of ever saying anything will be pity. Hopelessness that it often comes down to one person's word against another and the law will fail you. Hopelessness that hints that maybe it's just easier to attempt to numb or repress the pain than face it.
So please. Do me and every other woman or man who has been sexually assaulted a favor and consider these public allegations with a strong dose of humility. To you, it may seem implausible that legitimate victims would have chosen to go public with their stories of harassment or assault until this particular moment in time. But without bearing in mind that you do not know their motives, however unintentional, the strong doubt cast upon these possible victims may confirm the feelings of fear, shame, guilt, and hopelessness that your daughter or sister or best friend or significant other may be plagued with.
While many applauded the First Lady's passionate speech fervently, many others responded with trite memes, cries of hypocrisy for inviting rap artists to the White House, comparisons of how what was dismissed as "locker room talk" is no worse than what is consumed as mass entertainment, or pointing back at a former President, in the same manner that a child might, and saying, "Oh yeeeeah? Well look at what HE did!" None of these responses, or the myriad of others like it, move the discussion forward in a helpful manner.
Can I suggest that a little compassion added to this discussion of sexual assault is long overdue? We are completely missing the point if, before resuming our political mudslinging, we neglect to stop and consider the very real fact that women and men (because, let's be honest, men are victimized too) are experiencing sexual assault every single day in ways that can define a person's view of self-worth. And these individuals aren't just faceless victims. They are your loved ones: friends or co-workers who may be watching to see how these conversations about traumatic sexual experiences unfold. Family members who may be watching YOUR response to these public allegations to gauge whether they can trust you with their private burdens.
So please, dear reader, before assuming you know why these women stepped into the spotlight to confront the Republican nominee when they did, proceed with caution and-- most importantly-- with humility and compassion.
12.03.2015
It's [Not] the Most Wonderful Time of the Year
Christmas music has officially replaced the smooth soulfulness of Adele's "Hello" as the soundtrack of the season. The reminder that "the most wonderful time of the year" has arrived is jingled everywhere you go, from parking lots to the grocery store to the radio scan in the car. And to many, this rings true. The abundance of memories "of Christmases long, long ago" still holds a magical spell over the calendar-packing insanity that this month has become. While it may be true for you that the festive music, the scents of pine needles and sugar cookies, the big bows and striped wrapping, or the celebration of Christ's birth rekindle a spark of joy unlike any other month of the year, friend, can we be real together for a few minutes?
Behind many of those plastered on smiles you see bustling through the aisles is deep, wounded brokenness. Brokenness that barely musters the strength to acquiesce to "everyone telling you be of good cheer" with a smile, but that is still frantically attempting to patch up holes left by the recent loss of beloved grandparents. Brokenness that feels compelled to give an upbeat, optimistic answer to "how are things?" for fear that no one really wants to know how depressed the unfair, vindictive, forced resignation has made her because right now it does not feel like the "hap-happiest season of all." Brokenness that has made the office a second home because of the pain that he's not invited to those "gay, happy meetings" and no "friends come to call." Brokenness that has learned the safety of isolation after years of being torn down by the soul-crushing tongue of a resentful spouse, but who publicly goes through the rote motions of "much mistletoeing" though the heart isn't glowing since loved ones aren't near.
To the joyful friend who does believe this is the most wonderful time of the year, have you looked beyond her grin? Dear friend, have you noticed him? Are you too frantic "preparing Him room" that you neglect time to see those who need Him the most?
And to you, dear one, who tries to shove that brokenness in the closet because you feel you need to BE something else right now, know this: It's okay to not be okay.
I am pretty sure more of us fit into this second category than we'd like to admit. Will you allow me the honor to encourage you today? Trust one person enough to express that you're not okay; that this does NOT feel like the most wonderful time of the year. Allow someone else to bear your burden in love. If you don't know who you can trust with that, send me a message.
Behind many of those plastered on smiles you see bustling through the aisles is deep, wounded brokenness. Brokenness that barely musters the strength to acquiesce to "everyone telling you be of good cheer" with a smile, but that is still frantically attempting to patch up holes left by the recent loss of beloved grandparents. Brokenness that feels compelled to give an upbeat, optimistic answer to "how are things?" for fear that no one really wants to know how depressed the unfair, vindictive, forced resignation has made her because right now it does not feel like the "hap-happiest season of all." Brokenness that has made the office a second home because of the pain that he's not invited to those "gay, happy meetings" and no "friends come to call." Brokenness that has learned the safety of isolation after years of being torn down by the soul-crushing tongue of a resentful spouse, but who publicly goes through the rote motions of "much mistletoeing" though the heart isn't glowing since loved ones aren't near.
To the joyful friend who does believe this is the most wonderful time of the year, have you looked beyond her grin? Dear friend, have you noticed him? Are you too frantic "preparing Him room" that you neglect time to see those who need Him the most?
And to you, dear one, who tries to shove that brokenness in the closet because you feel you need to BE something else right now, know this: It's okay to not be okay.
I am pretty sure more of us fit into this second category than we'd like to admit. Will you allow me the honor to encourage you today? Trust one person enough to express that you're not okay; that this does NOT feel like the most wonderful time of the year. Allow someone else to bear your burden in love. If you don't know who you can trust with that, send me a message.
9.16.2015
In Which I Am Grateful for Wrath (and Wayne Grudem)
"I could never believe in a God who would send people to Hell." "If God is so good, why is there so much suffering in the world?" "I like what Jesus stood for a lot more than the angry-faced God of the Old Testament." 21st Century Western culture is obsessed with a grandfather-God full of love and acceptance. On the surface, who wouldn't want a supreme being with the universe at his fingertips bestowing abundant, unending blessings on us? Any hint at a God who possesses characteristics that seem to clash with this idea causes most to balk at either the idea or the deity in question.
If we assume that there is a God, it isn't a far step to take to also assume him to be perfect. God always acts in accordance with what is right asserts theologian Wayne Grudem*. Let that simmer for a moment. If God is perfect and always does what is right, which would need to be true for a God to be worthy of trust. (Could you really place faith in a deity who was occasionally a liar or manipulator or lover of evil?) Beyond perfection, however, if God always acts in accordance with what is right, that would speak clearly of His justice. Without justice, we as a society have little hope. Justice keeps society filled with evil and wrongdoing safe. Our society loves the idea of justice. Public wrongs that go unpunished or held unaccountable become cultural dartboards. At the core of our being, we know that evil must be dealt with.
If God loves all that is right and good and all that conforms to his moral character, it should not be surprising that he would hate everything that is opposed to his moral character*. So if God is perfect and always does what is right, it would stand to reason that He would oppose what is wrong/evil/unjust. This is good news! To have a god who loved those things would be truly terrifying. To have a god who was lukewarm toward evil would leave mankind in a similarly destitute place. But when we are powerless to stop or fight evil, having a god who is perfect and able to thwart and punish evil should be a comfort to us.
The focus of God's wrath has always been and always will be on evil. Because it is in God's nature to do and love what is right, He could never damn good people to Hell. Since God does what is right, hates evil, and requires justice, the evil in the world demands punishment (specifically, from Him, since he is the only perfect being). When Christ died to pay the penalty for our sins, it showed that God was truly righteous (just), because he did give appropriate punishment for sin, even though he did forgive his people their sins.
I am grateful that, in His perfection, God loves what is good and hates what is evil. This gives me hope in a world chock-full of pain and suffering and wrongdoing, because God is the ultimate definition of justice. Yet, I am also grateful for His mercy in taking that punishment that I deserve (for all of the evil and wrongdoing I have done) upon himself, in the form of Christ.
*quotes from Bible Doctrine by Wayne Grudem (1999), pages 93 & 94
If we assume that there is a God, it isn't a far step to take to also assume him to be perfect. God always acts in accordance with what is right asserts theologian Wayne Grudem*. Let that simmer for a moment. If God is perfect and always does what is right, which would need to be true for a God to be worthy of trust. (Could you really place faith in a deity who was occasionally a liar or manipulator or lover of evil?) Beyond perfection, however, if God always acts in accordance with what is right, that would speak clearly of His justice. Without justice, we as a society have little hope. Justice keeps society filled with evil and wrongdoing safe. Our society loves the idea of justice. Public wrongs that go unpunished or held unaccountable become cultural dartboards. At the core of our being, we know that evil must be dealt with.
If God loves all that is right and good and all that conforms to his moral character, it should not be surprising that he would hate everything that is opposed to his moral character*. So if God is perfect and always does what is right, it would stand to reason that He would oppose what is wrong/evil/unjust. This is good news! To have a god who loved those things would be truly terrifying. To have a god who was lukewarm toward evil would leave mankind in a similarly destitute place. But when we are powerless to stop or fight evil, having a god who is perfect and able to thwart and punish evil should be a comfort to us.
The focus of God's wrath has always been and always will be on evil. Because it is in God's nature to do and love what is right, He could never damn good people to Hell. Since God does what is right, hates evil, and requires justice, the evil in the world demands punishment (specifically, from Him, since he is the only perfect being). When Christ died to pay the penalty for our sins, it showed that God was truly righteous (just), because he did give appropriate punishment for sin, even though he did forgive his people their sins.
I am grateful that, in His perfection, God loves what is good and hates what is evil. This gives me hope in a world chock-full of pain and suffering and wrongdoing, because God is the ultimate definition of justice. Yet, I am also grateful for His mercy in taking that punishment that I deserve (for all of the evil and wrongdoing I have done) upon himself, in the form of Christ.
*quotes from Bible Doctrine by Wayne Grudem (1999), pages 93 & 94
8.17.2015
Concerning Cardiac Calorie Counting
Do not let your adorning be external- the braiding of hair, the wearing of gold, or the putting on of clothing-- but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious. -1 Peter 3:3-4 (ESV)
America is obsessed with health. Amazon.com sells hundreds of thousands of books on how we feed our bodies, how we trim and tone our bodies, and how we care for our bodies. The Apple store has 250 popular health and fitness apps (not to mention the limitless less popular apps) designed to get you on track for the best six pack, shedding baby weight, 5k training, and so on. Walmart sells over 2000 different kinds of protein powder. As a resident of Baltimore County, I can borrow over 3000 health books from our library system or find a CrossFit workout in 23 different locations. What I guess I really mean to say is that America is obsessed with physical health.
I, too, put considerable effort in to tracking how much I put into my body, what kind of things I put into my body, how much I exercise my body, etc. And there is nothing wrong with this! God has given me a strong body that I need to steward well if I am to fulfill His purposes for my life and serve others effectively. Yet, we know that age sets in eventually. Healthy lifestyles can only take you so far.
Beyond the usual womanly application concerning the vanity of ever-changing fashion, Peter pointed my heart further. I may obsess over every calorie that fuels my body, but I take little account as to what I fuel my mind and heart with on a regular basis. I expend much effort into adorning myself physically with much less regard on how I adorn my spirit. Women long for imperishable physical beauty (which fades with time), but SO much more worthy of our time and attention is imperishable inner beauty (which grows with time).
So I leave us (myself included) with this today: Are you concerned with the things you are feeding your soul? Do you keep close watch that you aren't feeding your heart and mind with discouraging, life-sapping "trans fats?" Are you training your spirit for endurance and joy? Are you watching the "caloric" minutes here and there spent on social media, radio, or entertainment that continue to fuel your heart in small doses that, with time, amass and influence how you think and feel? How's your cardiac calorie counting?
America is obsessed with health. Amazon.com sells hundreds of thousands of books on how we feed our bodies, how we trim and tone our bodies, and how we care for our bodies. The Apple store has 250 popular health and fitness apps (not to mention the limitless less popular apps) designed to get you on track for the best six pack, shedding baby weight, 5k training, and so on. Walmart sells over 2000 different kinds of protein powder. As a resident of Baltimore County, I can borrow over 3000 health books from our library system or find a CrossFit workout in 23 different locations. What I guess I really mean to say is that America is obsessed with physical health.
I, too, put considerable effort in to tracking how much I put into my body, what kind of things I put into my body, how much I exercise my body, etc. And there is nothing wrong with this! God has given me a strong body that I need to steward well if I am to fulfill His purposes for my life and serve others effectively. Yet, we know that age sets in eventually. Healthy lifestyles can only take you so far.
Beyond the usual womanly application concerning the vanity of ever-changing fashion, Peter pointed my heart further. I may obsess over every calorie that fuels my body, but I take little account as to what I fuel my mind and heart with on a regular basis. I expend much effort into adorning myself physically with much less regard on how I adorn my spirit. Women long for imperishable physical beauty (which fades with time), but SO much more worthy of our time and attention is imperishable inner beauty (which grows with time).
So I leave us (myself included) with this today: Are you concerned with the things you are feeding your soul? Do you keep close watch that you aren't feeding your heart and mind with discouraging, life-sapping "trans fats?" Are you training your spirit for endurance and joy? Are you watching the "caloric" minutes here and there spent on social media, radio, or entertainment that continue to fuel your heart in small doses that, with time, amass and influence how you think and feel? How's your cardiac calorie counting?
7.31.2015
Your Excellency
Technology is a delightful tool. Globalization is an incredible gift. The capability to share thoughts and information all across our planet and even into space is positively mind-boggling. Ease of expressing our opinions to a large audience has, I believe, desensitized us to take this gift for granted. What we choose to share, "like," open, read, and comment on matters. Social media's commonplace has become a graveyard for countless hours of my life and we can easily fool ourselves into thinking that its use is harmless, worthwhile, even necessary. Unfiltered political platforms, cultural issue commentaries, opinion polls, sensationalist stories, trending health fads, and tutorials for things that really don't need a tutorial inundate my newsfeed daily. 95% of these I'm completely uninterested in, but will sometimes get sucked into without mindfulness of the time and mental investment I'm making with each click further.
Our culture's food obsession scrutinizes what we feed our bodies (antioxidants- good! yellow dye #87- bad! paleo- great! atkins- dig your grave now!) and how we care for them (crossfit! high intensity! 5k! fitbit!). But what about our minds? What fuel do we fill our minds with? Many will insist that meditation and intentional clearing of the mind of negativity is a necessary practice, but if how we fed and guided our thoughts each day was healthy, perhaps this wouldn't even be a "thing."
What if we actually took seriously Paul's encouragement in Philippians 4:8, "Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things?" If we focused our thoughts on truth, honor, justice, purity, beauty, true goodness, and excellence, how would that renew our minds and transform our lives (Romans 12:2)? Would that allow us to "be sober-minded" and "prepare our minds for action" (1 Peter 1:13) in such a way that we could "put away all malice and all deceit and hypocrisy and envy and slander" (1 Peter 2:1)? Could we, then, live to "proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light" as God's people who have received a serious amount of mercy (1 Peter 2:9-10)?
When we set our minds on unchanging, life-giving, mind-sharpening truth (specifically, truth about who God is, what He has done, and who we are in light of who He is and what He has done) instead of whatever fleeting nonsense flits in and out of social media, we are more enabled to live well, without hypocrisy, and to use words to love excellently.
So is what you devote your thoughts to (whether two hours or two minutes at a time) worthy of the limited time you're given on Earth? Is it lovely? Do the things that you choose to share or tweet "spur one another on toward love and good deeds" (Hebrews 10:24)? Are we commenting in ways that prompt our hearts to "increase and abound in love for one another" (1 Thessalonians 3:12)? Are you thinking excellently?
Our culture's food obsession scrutinizes what we feed our bodies (antioxidants- good! yellow dye #87- bad! paleo- great! atkins- dig your grave now!) and how we care for them (crossfit! high intensity! 5k! fitbit!). But what about our minds? What fuel do we fill our minds with? Many will insist that meditation and intentional clearing of the mind of negativity is a necessary practice, but if how we fed and guided our thoughts each day was healthy, perhaps this wouldn't even be a "thing."
What if we actually took seriously Paul's encouragement in Philippians 4:8, "Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things?" If we focused our thoughts on truth, honor, justice, purity, beauty, true goodness, and excellence, how would that renew our minds and transform our lives (Romans 12:2)? Would that allow us to "be sober-minded" and "prepare our minds for action" (1 Peter 1:13) in such a way that we could "put away all malice and all deceit and hypocrisy and envy and slander" (1 Peter 2:1)? Could we, then, live to "proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light" as God's people who have received a serious amount of mercy (1 Peter 2:9-10)?
When we set our minds on unchanging, life-giving, mind-sharpening truth (specifically, truth about who God is, what He has done, and who we are in light of who He is and what He has done) instead of whatever fleeting nonsense flits in and out of social media, we are more enabled to live well, without hypocrisy, and to use words to love excellently.
So is what you devote your thoughts to (whether two hours or two minutes at a time) worthy of the limited time you're given on Earth? Is it lovely? Do the things that you choose to share or tweet "spur one another on toward love and good deeds" (Hebrews 10:24)? Are we commenting in ways that prompt our hearts to "increase and abound in love for one another" (1 Thessalonians 3:12)? Are you thinking excellently?
4.28.2015
Don't Pray for Baltimore
The sound of sirens filled the air all afternoon. When I went to bed, they could still be heard in the distance. This morning, instead of birds chirping outside my window, one lone siren in the distance could be heard. Yesterday's late-breaking news of the peaceful protests, violent riots, fires and looting, State of Emergency, National Guard being called in, prayer walks, etc. turned into a sideshow for sidewalk-gawkers, local radio talk shows, major news broadcasts, and even international audiences. Throughout the afternoon and evening, I received numerous messages inquiring as to my personal safety (which I appreciate, by the way). Social media became a seemingly endless stream of condolences, petitions for justice, speculations, and calls for prayer for the city from those near and far.
Which brings me to my request: Please don't pray for Baltimore... and then just go about your day. With the unparalleled amount of information that floods our news, advocacy groups, awareness days and ribbons, internet memes, online petitions and movements, and cries of outrage, armchair activism is one of the unfortunate by-products of increased globalization in our generation. Supporting something has taken the form of clicking, liking, tweeting, sharing, thinking positive thoughts and well-wishing and good vibes, wearing a certain colored shirt on a specified day, wearing a certain colored ribbon on a specified day, being "aware" of a certain thing on a specified day, yadda yadda yadda. This makes us feel good because we feel like we're making a difference.
A week later, we're jumping on to the next issue social media decides is sexy.
If this is as far as you care to go to support my city, then please don't bother praying for Baltimore. If you are truly concerned and moved by what you see, then do something. Let's not be content to have "positive" feelings about something for five minutes and then jump back into whatever we were doing.
Does it bother you that young, black men have to consciously think about what they are wearing during certain times of the day when they are out doing their business? Then start some conversations. Are you uncomfortable when you consider that lots of excellent law enforcement officers who have a passion to keep people are getting bricks and glass hurled at them? Then call up their spouse who is sitting at home worried sick about them and ask to come over to be with them. Do you get uneasy about the fact that these high schoolers feel so undervalued, disrespected, and uncared for that the only way they know how to be heard is to charge into a store with a baseball bat? Then go introduce yourself to one, root for them during their basketball game, take them out for ice cream, and ask them what it's like being a teenager in 2015. Are you saddened by the pictures of destruction to homes and communities and neighborhoods? Look around your own community, grab some friends and gloves, and get to work. Do you see the hurting faces, tear-stained with injustice? Then ask yourself, "What injustice am I currently contributing to?" and go do something about it.
And as you are doing, by all means, ask for God's help. People change when God changes them. So let's pray for that. Not only for safety and inconvenience-free lives. Not only for peaceful and calm, pristine-looking streets. Pray that God will radically change hearts and turn lives upside-down. But don't just pray and go about your day.
Which brings me to my request: Please don't pray for Baltimore... and then just go about your day. With the unparalleled amount of information that floods our news, advocacy groups, awareness days and ribbons, internet memes, online petitions and movements, and cries of outrage, armchair activism is one of the unfortunate by-products of increased globalization in our generation. Supporting something has taken the form of clicking, liking, tweeting, sharing, thinking positive thoughts and well-wishing and good vibes, wearing a certain colored shirt on a specified day, wearing a certain colored ribbon on a specified day, being "aware" of a certain thing on a specified day, yadda yadda yadda. This makes us feel good because we feel like we're making a difference.
A week later, we're jumping on to the next issue social media decides is sexy.
Go us.
If this is as far as you care to go to support my city, then please don't bother praying for Baltimore. If you are truly concerned and moved by what you see, then do something. Let's not be content to have "positive" feelings about something for five minutes and then jump back into whatever we were doing.
And as you are doing, by all means, ask for God's help. People change when God changes them. So let's pray for that. Not only for safety and inconvenience-free lives. Not only for peaceful and calm, pristine-looking streets. Pray that God will radically change hearts and turn lives upside-down. But don't just pray and go about your day.
3.10.2015
Poking and Prodding and Plodding Along with Peter
Bursts of encouraging mental energy often accompany my study of scripture, and I came across this gem this morning:
Prepare your minds for action, and being sober-minded, set your hope fully on the grace that will be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ. -1 Peter 1:13
(Incidentally, before even cracking the Good Book open, I prayed "God, help me love you better with my mind and thoughts." This is was the first verse He answered with. Talk about an instantly-gratified prayer!)
Here's what I love about this. "Prepare your minds for action" means that faithfully hoping in Christ is neither mindless nor passive. It isn't for the weak or simple-minded. It doesn't casually saunter or plod along. It doesn't call for dull doormats. Rather, we are called to wake up, to pursue clarity of thought, to ask questions, to wrestle with scriptural claims, to contemplate, to reason, to deduce, to really think! On the basis of a sober, actively-engaged mind, only then can we fully trust that grace and revelation of Christ.
Blind acceptance of a truth waivers when doubts and trials come along. Passive faith drowns in watered-down theology. The Creator who formed an ordered, logical universe that can be understood by rational minds invites us to use that cerebrum of ours to consider and examine and engage with and poke and prod and ask deep questions of the Words He has given us.
And-- may I just say?-- I love that.
11.26.2013
Solving for the Value of X, where X = [your name]
"Yeah, well, teachers get paid way too much."
Let me pause here by disclosing that this is not about teachers' salaries. Okay, moving on.
This past weekend, as I was speaking with two individuals on a subject totally unrelated to salaries or teachers, that comment worked itself into the conversation. In retrospect, I'm not even sure how. It was there, and then it was gone, and the topic was no more.
We all make off-handed comments from time to time without realizing how they might effect someone else. Ingrained in those comments are assertions of our own values, and yet, so often we express ourselves in such a way that implies them to be indisputable fact.
"Big business owners are corrupt, money-driven charlatans."
"You're a stay-at-home mom? Man, that must be nice."
"It's obscene how much NFL players make!"
"[insert name of a President] is the worst thing in history to happen to this country."
Skimming under the surface in each of those comments is a set of values, and those values are influenced by upbringing, personal experiences, religious beliefs, culture, interests, and general worldview. A friend taking graduate classes for counseling recently described an activity one of her courses required that involved ranking 15 professions in order of importance. This list included everything from doctor to social worker to professional athlete. The point of the exercise was to reveal where your values lie and hint to where you may tend to unconsciously ascribe more or less worth to someone based on what they do. She then went on to talk about how differently her children and classmates ranked these jobs and the conversations that ensued about values.
Making statements akin to "Teachers get paid way too much" speaks volumes more about your personal values than a budgetary analysis of tax dollars. Spoken to a teacher whose husband also happens to be a teacher, it shouts loud and clear, "I do not feel you are worth your salary." Asserting that business owners are corrupt discounts many who are passionate about creating jobs to better people's lives as far as it depends on them. Implying that full-time care of one's own children is a less worthwhile role than full-time caring for others' children displays devalues a practice that has been commonplace for as long as people have walked the Earth. Failing to consider the economic business generated by idolization of wildly successful star athletes (another topic for another time) disregards a primary reason for those massive contracts. And really? One politician serving in a system of checks and balances for a few years is the worst thing to happen to the country in history? Check your History books again.
Nothing here is Earth-shattering. Although everyone can recognize how differently we are wired, what is often missed is the beauty in those differences. We need those who can string series of pitches and rhythms together cohesively from tension to release and resolution to make our ears dance with delight. We need those who can skillfully erect sturdy walls that contain warmth and sound and do not crumble with each annual arrival of hurricane season. We need intelligent minds who have the ability to inspire others to action to better the quality of the lives around them. And if we were all composers or carpenters or public speakers, we would all severely suffer. There is worth in every person and some degree of value in every position. I leave you with this:
For the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, yet one body.
The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable... God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it, that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. (1 Corinthians 12:15-25)
Let me pause here by disclosing that this is not about teachers' salaries. Okay, moving on.
This past weekend, as I was speaking with two individuals on a subject totally unrelated to salaries or teachers, that comment worked itself into the conversation. In retrospect, I'm not even sure how. It was there, and then it was gone, and the topic was no more.
We all make off-handed comments from time to time without realizing how they might effect someone else. Ingrained in those comments are assertions of our own values, and yet, so often we express ourselves in such a way that implies them to be indisputable fact.
"Big business owners are corrupt, money-driven charlatans."
"You're a stay-at-home mom? Man, that must be nice."
"It's obscene how much NFL players make!"
"[insert name of a President] is the worst thing in history to happen to this country."
Skimming under the surface in each of those comments is a set of values, and those values are influenced by upbringing, personal experiences, religious beliefs, culture, interests, and general worldview. A friend taking graduate classes for counseling recently described an activity one of her courses required that involved ranking 15 professions in order of importance. This list included everything from doctor to social worker to professional athlete. The point of the exercise was to reveal where your values lie and hint to where you may tend to unconsciously ascribe more or less worth to someone based on what they do. She then went on to talk about how differently her children and classmates ranked these jobs and the conversations that ensued about values.
Making statements akin to "Teachers get paid way too much" speaks volumes more about your personal values than a budgetary analysis of tax dollars. Spoken to a teacher whose husband also happens to be a teacher, it shouts loud and clear, "I do not feel you are worth your salary." Asserting that business owners are corrupt discounts many who are passionate about creating jobs to better people's lives as far as it depends on them. Implying that full-time care of one's own children is a less worthwhile role than full-time caring for others' children displays devalues a practice that has been commonplace for as long as people have walked the Earth. Failing to consider the economic business generated by idolization of wildly successful star athletes (another topic for another time) disregards a primary reason for those massive contracts. And really? One politician serving in a system of checks and balances for a few years is the worst thing to happen to the country in history? Check your History books again.
Nothing here is Earth-shattering. Although everyone can recognize how differently we are wired, what is often missed is the beauty in those differences. We need those who can string series of pitches and rhythms together cohesively from tension to release and resolution to make our ears dance with delight. We need those who can skillfully erect sturdy walls that contain warmth and sound and do not crumble with each annual arrival of hurricane season. We need intelligent minds who have the ability to inspire others to action to better the quality of the lives around them. And if we were all composers or carpenters or public speakers, we would all severely suffer. There is worth in every person and some degree of value in every position. I leave you with this:
For the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, yet one body.
The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable... God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it, that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. (1 Corinthians 12:15-25)
11.25.2013
Why I Love Photography
I can pinpoint exactly when I first fell in love with photography. It took exactly two events to turn my indifference into total obsession. Event number one happened in the late fall of 2008 during a First Friday with some friends in Lancaster. We were meandering through several of the coffee shops and art galleries in the city when we came to one that hosted a wall filled with black and white photos featuring a young girl holding a red umbrella. Immediately, your eyes were drawn to the only colored portion of the picture, but with each framed photograph, once you were able to move your eyes to all that surrounded it, the real story was told.
The second event was a visit to the Smithsonian with a friend several months later. We were walking through an exhibit of photo winners displayed in the Museum of Natural History and BAM! I was hooked. These were National Geographic-quality pictures but printed on enormous canvases. Those brief moments in time that will never again take place in exactly the same way told a story. The flawless editing drew you into the artist's world and allowed the subjects to jump out at you.
I have realized that what I love most about photography is that it reveals reality. I can appreciate a painter's artistic ability to recreate or a sculptor's craftiness to get 3-D proportions perfectly, but in my mind, nothing can surpass the beauty of what already exists. In a perpetually moving world, one excellent photograph can allow you to revel in the artistry of one tiny moment in time.
As I've attempted to hone my still incredibly amateurish skills of photographing, this passion has been fueled by the focus that capturing these moments requires. Really looking at a subject- studying it from various angles, analyzing how the light reflects off of and around it, seeing the depth of perspective of everything around it- has given me a greater appreciation for the world around me than I ever had before. Editing encompasses this on an even deeper level as I work to bring out certain colors or bring something in or out of focus.
I have learned to really look around. Beauty is literally everywhere, from angles formed in the distant horizon to the veins of a leaf floating to the ground by your face. Stopping to actually focus on it, whether in the moment or with a photograph's help, is so worth the time.
The second event was a visit to the Smithsonian with a friend several months later. We were walking through an exhibit of photo winners displayed in the Museum of Natural History and BAM! I was hooked. These were National Geographic-quality pictures but printed on enormous canvases. Those brief moments in time that will never again take place in exactly the same way told a story. The flawless editing drew you into the artist's world and allowed the subjects to jump out at you.
I have realized that what I love most about photography is that it reveals reality. I can appreciate a painter's artistic ability to recreate or a sculptor's craftiness to get 3-D proportions perfectly, but in my mind, nothing can surpass the beauty of what already exists. In a perpetually moving world, one excellent photograph can allow you to revel in the artistry of one tiny moment in time.
As I've attempted to hone my still incredibly amateurish skills of photographing, this passion has been fueled by the focus that capturing these moments requires. Really looking at a subject- studying it from various angles, analyzing how the light reflects off of and around it, seeing the depth of perspective of everything around it- has given me a greater appreciation for the world around me than I ever had before. Editing encompasses this on an even deeper level as I work to bring out certain colors or bring something in or out of focus.I have learned to really look around. Beauty is literally everywhere, from angles formed in the distant horizon to the veins of a leaf floating to the ground by your face. Stopping to actually focus on it, whether in the moment or with a photograph's help, is so worth the time.
9.23.2013
Beyond the Duct Tape Fix
Enter: the new thing in life right now. In June, my husband and I joined the Marching Ravens because that's what music teachers-who-are-too-old-for-DCI-and-too-nerdy-not-to-give-up-the-once-held-passion-of-performing-in-front-of-massive-crowds-of-unsuspecting-fans-who-thought-they-were-going-to-watch-a-football-game do. Every game day, we arrive at the practice facility several hours before kick-off to practice the pregame and halftime show. During this rehearsal, a brief incident (probably 15 seconds, max) took place that I've been thinking about on and off ever since.
A little background info, first: At the end of the pregame show, we form RAVENS on the field and launch into the fight song. I stand at the top of the R which lines up with the rest of the other letters in line across the field. The move immediately prior requires that I march in a backward diagonal leading into this line. For anyone who has marched before, you know that keeping in the form trumps getting to your exact, assigned blade of grass on the field. So if you're in a line or form that is moving too slowly, you sacrifice your exact destination for maintaining the shape.
So we were moving into this shape, but the line was about a yard closer to the sideline than it is supposed to be. On the last step, several people in the middle (where everything is based off of) realized this and took a huge step backward on the last count. Because I (and others close to me) had been in line but couldn't react to this compensation, we wound up being about a step closer to the sideline and slightly out of formation. Now, this is practice. It's the time to fix things and make final adjustments. As soon as the song concluded, another band member stormed over to me and yelled, "You HAVE GOT to stay in LINE. You are WAY too far forward!" I expressed that I had been in line but couldn't react in time when the center of the line took a big step back on the last count of the move. She swore, spun around, and went back to her spot.
This woman has never spoken a word to me before, she isn't a section leader, and felt that, regardless of reason, me being a step out of formation was justification enough to walk 15 yards to loudly confront me about it. I don't mind that she said something to me about it, but in mulling it over a bit more, I started seeing similar patterns. What is it that allows us to feel yelling at someone is an acceptable thing to do?
What is yelling anyway? I'm not talking about calling the dog from outside; I mean angrily expressing one's point of view toward another. It assumes fault based on personal perspective and conveys, "You screwed up, you inconvenienced me, you should feel badly, and now go fix it!" Yelling dehumanizes the other person by devaluing them... and usually over something simple that really isn't that big of a deal. I'm certainly not advocating for a coddling culture, nor am I suggesting that we habitually overlook things that should be corrected.
But what if we considered briefly, before opening our mouths, that the recipient of our words (and, perhaps more importantly, the tone of our words) is someone who has purpose and put thought behind their actions? We would see the person as more important than the actions they do. We might discover that the action we thought needed to be corrected is just a byproduct of incorrect thinking. If we discovered this, we could more quickly get to the root of the problem rather than a duct-tape fix on the surface.
...Though duct-tape is pretty amazing.
9.09.2013
Of Writing and the Me Monster
Now that our house is back into the swing of the school schedule (it's more like a tire swing spinning around and around than a leisurely back-and-forth-pump-your-feet type of swing), I have been trying to prioritize the various aspects of my life. What is energy sapping but worth it? What is energy sapping and not worth it? What keeps me going and brings joy to those around me? What can I do with my time that blesses and uplifts my husband?
I decided in May that I wanted to build regularly writing into my schedule once the fall started up rather than just fitting it in when I felt inspired. For a few years now, I have been tossing around an idea for a book on a subject that published media seems to be severely lacking. It seemed like now would be a good time to build the discipline of regularly writing to coincide with this whole book endeavor.
In the two weeks that have passed, I have quickly realized the big temptation that is present when the idea is to capture thoughts into words on a topic that little has been written... With the eventual intent that others will read. That temptation is to allow, as Brian Regan* so perfectly puts it, the "Me Monster" to influence my attitude. The Me Monster manifests itself by suggesting, sometimes subtly, other times with zero subtlety, "Wow, you're pretty important, aren't you?" "Yeah, yeah. I AM pretty special. I am sure something else, huh!" I don't mean to say that what I am writing is NOT important, but what is becoming more evident is that whenever we offer our own opinion on a given subject, whether through conversation, a blog post, a potential book manuscript, it can be easy to think much higher of oneself than is realistic. Yes, what you have to say matters, but it isn't the end-all-be-all-trump-card of opinions. Please pray that God would continue to grow me through humility.
*if you don't know what I am talking about, see the first minute or so of the following stand-up gem:
I decided in May that I wanted to build regularly writing into my schedule once the fall started up rather than just fitting it in when I felt inspired. For a few years now, I have been tossing around an idea for a book on a subject that published media seems to be severely lacking. It seemed like now would be a good time to build the discipline of regularly writing to coincide with this whole book endeavor.
In the two weeks that have passed, I have quickly realized the big temptation that is present when the idea is to capture thoughts into words on a topic that little has been written... With the eventual intent that others will read. That temptation is to allow, as Brian Regan* so perfectly puts it, the "Me Monster" to influence my attitude. The Me Monster manifests itself by suggesting, sometimes subtly, other times with zero subtlety, "Wow, you're pretty important, aren't you?" "Yeah, yeah. I AM pretty special. I am sure something else, huh!" I don't mean to say that what I am writing is NOT important, but what is becoming more evident is that whenever we offer our own opinion on a given subject, whether through conversation, a blog post, a potential book manuscript, it can be easy to think much higher of oneself than is realistic. Yes, what you have to say matters, but it isn't the end-all-be-all-trump-card of opinions. Please pray that God would continue to grow me through humility.
*if you don't know what I am talking about, see the first minute or so of the following stand-up gem:
4.04.2013
The Post I Didn't Want to Write
About a month and a half ago, I nervously pressed "Publish" on a blog post that I would have preferred, at the time, to hit "Delete." I half-assumed no one would ever say anything about it, after all, my intention wasn't to attract attention from the ends of the earth. I half-assumed that a couple people might comment, given that I knew my struggle wasn't mine alone. What I never assumed as the comments and page views and shares and messages and conversations to follow rapidly began to roll in five minutes after posting was the overwhelming response I received from people near and far.
Here is what the past five weeks have taught me: People deeply appreciate and esteem transparency, sincerity, and authenticity. I always knew this, but as family, friends, acquaintances, even near-strangers, flooded me with encouragement and candid openness about their own struggles I began to realize this on a completely new level than ever before.
Here is what the past five weeks have taught me: People deeply appreciate and esteem transparency, sincerity, and authenticity. I always knew this, but as family, friends, acquaintances, even near-strangers, flooded me with encouragement and candid openness about their own struggles I began to realize this on a completely new level than ever before.
There's a face that we wear in the cold light of day
It's society's mask; it's society's way
And the truth is that it's all a façade.
There's a face that we hide till the nighttime appears
And what's hiding inside behind all of our fears
Is our true self locked inside the façade...
The remainder of "Façade" from Jekyll and Hyde is not only a lyrical masterpiece, in my opinion, but also quite an accurate picture of the inward, humanly fight against living with transparency. The line and I'm certain- life is terribly hard when you're life's a façade contains so much truth not only because keeping up a perception is life-draining, but because transparent living also allows for greater community. Is it challenging? Undoubtedly. But rewarding? Absolutely.
Transparency, alone, I'm convinced, isn't the key though. Simply sharing one's deepest secrets or sins or fears may attract attention as a sideshow, but doesn't necessarily build community or provide encouragement to others. Without living in sincerity, that life will not incur respect. Building a life around claims that lack follow-through exhibits shallowness.
What if I stumble, and what if I fall?
What if I lose my step and I make fools of us all?
Will the love continue when the walk becomes a crawl?
What if I stumble, and what if I fall?
(I can't help the musical references. The music teacher in my blood will never run dry). Staying true to convictions isn't going to happen every minute of every day, but accompanied with transparency, as conveyed in these words that filled every Christian radio station in existence 18 years ago (wow) matters.
Transparency, sincerity, and authenticity together is what, I've discovered, has drawn so many to lay their hearts out for me to see in the past five weeks. They have allowed me to see the shadowy, hidden corners of their lives and the yet-raw wounds that battered their hearts. I feel completely unworthy but entirely honored that so many of you have opened up your world to me in such an intimate way. You have been such an encouragement to me; you have helped heal me and "let go" in ways I never thought possible by simply publishing the post I didn't want to write. Thank you.
2.21.2013
The Post I Don't Want to Write
The following post is brought to you by several days of avoidance, multiple heated inner debates, the desire to immediately hide behind the couch for a week after pressing the "publish" button, and is roughly nineteen years in the making. In short, this is the post I have been dreading to write.
This is the post that began with a close friend in elementary school who poked my 8-year old stomach a few times and brought it to my attention that I was pudgy. This is the post that continued to develop the following year when "The Santa Clause" came out containing the line, "A little weight? You call this a little weight?" and inspired my brother to want to take a family picture reinacting Tim Allen's character holding handfuls of belly fat out from beneath the bottom of his shirt... and the ensuing mortification of being coerced to do so.
This is the post that was written by watching other middle school girls cake on makeup many times a day and don shirts that showed off their midriffs to adolescent boys who I was told were actually worth it. Still more was added on when a friend stayed overnight but had forgotten pants, and after asking to borrow mine exclaimed that she could fit at least two of herself in them. This post has also been brought to you by an older relative who immediately upon seeing me on one occasion said, "well, you look fat."
This is the post that continued in high school when a friend and I were taking a picture of ourselves and she held the skin around her thighs back so they wouldn't appear to be larger than desired, and by the horrifying experience of having to try on costumes for the musical and not being able to squeeze into outfits that my peers could easily slip into. When suggesting to the teacher helping find suitable costumes that it "didn't fit right" and hearing "put it back on so that I can see where exactly it doesn't fit" (which fueled even more embarrassment, if it was possible), I did so and was met with, "Hmm. You know, you're not a big girl- you just stick out in the wrong places." NOT reassuring.
This is a post about a topic I've wrestled with more than any thing else in my life. It is brought to you by the lunch periods I skipped to work on the school newspaper in part so no one would realize I was only consuming milk for lunch, the nutrition matrix that first fueled my obsession to count calories, the diet pills in college that didn't work, the post-college multiple-times-a-day intense workouts, the South Beach craze, when we had to practice measuring body fat during gym classes, and the school nurse's annual height/weight checks.
So why on Earth, if this is the post I don't want to write, am I writing this? It has nothing to do with learning to "love my curves" or "being content" or blaming those in my past who have wounded me or even losing weight. No, no. There is something so much greater, and that is this:
My story does not end with my past.
The fact is that God has gently showed me that it is time for Him to take over this scar- this heavy burden- this obsession- this idol. In John 8:34-36, Jesus said, "Truly, I say to you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. The slave does not remain in the house forever; the son remains forever. So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed." While it is true that myriads of events have shaped my view of food, diet, and my body, I am not innocent. I've made decisions that lacked trust in God's plans for me and wrongly obsessed over food to the point of making having or NOT having it an idol time and time again. This is slavery. It's not freedom.
Yet, that's not the end of the story. I know that God sacrificed Himself so that I have freedom to leave this idol behind. That's what this post is about. If it encourages you, great. If it lets you know who I am better, fine. But that's not my main purpose. This post is what God has not allowed me to avoid because He is teaching me to seek His help every day to loosen my grip on this bondage.
And this is me letting-go, today.
This is the post that began with a close friend in elementary school who poked my 8-year old stomach a few times and brought it to my attention that I was pudgy. This is the post that continued to develop the following year when "The Santa Clause" came out containing the line, "A little weight? You call this a little weight?" and inspired my brother to want to take a family picture reinacting Tim Allen's character holding handfuls of belly fat out from beneath the bottom of his shirt... and the ensuing mortification of being coerced to do so.
This is the post that was written by watching other middle school girls cake on makeup many times a day and don shirts that showed off their midriffs to adolescent boys who I was told were actually worth it. Still more was added on when a friend stayed overnight but had forgotten pants, and after asking to borrow mine exclaimed that she could fit at least two of herself in them. This post has also been brought to you by an older relative who immediately upon seeing me on one occasion said, "well, you look fat."
This is the post that continued in high school when a friend and I were taking a picture of ourselves and she held the skin around her thighs back so they wouldn't appear to be larger than desired, and by the horrifying experience of having to try on costumes for the musical and not being able to squeeze into outfits that my peers could easily slip into. When suggesting to the teacher helping find suitable costumes that it "didn't fit right" and hearing "put it back on so that I can see where exactly it doesn't fit" (which fueled even more embarrassment, if it was possible), I did so and was met with, "Hmm. You know, you're not a big girl- you just stick out in the wrong places." NOT reassuring.
This is a post about a topic I've wrestled with more than any thing else in my life. It is brought to you by the lunch periods I skipped to work on the school newspaper in part so no one would realize I was only consuming milk for lunch, the nutrition matrix that first fueled my obsession to count calories, the diet pills in college that didn't work, the post-college multiple-times-a-day intense workouts, the South Beach craze, when we had to practice measuring body fat during gym classes, and the school nurse's annual height/weight checks.
So why on Earth, if this is the post I don't want to write, am I writing this? It has nothing to do with learning to "love my curves" or "being content" or blaming those in my past who have wounded me or even losing weight. No, no. There is something so much greater, and that is this:
My story does not end with my past.
The fact is that God has gently showed me that it is time for Him to take over this scar- this heavy burden- this obsession- this idol. In John 8:34-36, Jesus said, "Truly, I say to you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. The slave does not remain in the house forever; the son remains forever. So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed." While it is true that myriads of events have shaped my view of food, diet, and my body, I am not innocent. I've made decisions that lacked trust in God's plans for me and wrongly obsessed over food to the point of making having or NOT having it an idol time and time again. This is slavery. It's not freedom.
Yet, that's not the end of the story. I know that God sacrificed Himself so that I have freedom to leave this idol behind. That's what this post is about. If it encourages you, great. If it lets you know who I am better, fine. But that's not my main purpose. This post is what God has not allowed me to avoid because He is teaching me to seek His help every day to loosen my grip on this bondage.
And this is me letting-go, today.
1.22.2013
The Alpha
We have entered a new chapter of life, where our family has increased by four feet! A perfectly adorable Pembroke Welsh Corgi joined us a few weeks ago and life has definitely not been the same since! Both my husband and I grew up with dogs, but this our first venture with owning one.
With that comes the delights of watching his floppy ear start to work its way skyward, the love of the hard puppy toys which result in slightly less razor-sharp teeth that frequent themselves on our clothing, and constant vigilance to protect our now mostly-white carpet. In the past two weeks, I have also discovered that social norms drastically differ for perfectly adorable puppy owner than the average 28-year old female taking a walk through the park.
Though I do not doubt that this will change once Nigel is a few pounds heavier, less soft, and has a bigger snout, his doting admirers (very friendly strangers) often share one commonly heard comment: referring to me as his *said in high-pitched baby voice* "Mommy!" The first time someone bestowed this title upon me, I was both shocked and slightly reviled. Now, after having heard it on many, many occasions from numerous sources, I am less shocked and slightly more reviled.
Yes, I am the (usually) happy owner of a perfectly adorable puppy, but Nigel is not my offspring. He is not my world. And, he is not the best thing to happen to me. The idolization of pets is never something I realized was such a huge deal until I got one. He is a DOG. He can keep me company, sure, but he can't speak truth into my life or enjoy hospitality with me or be a sounding board when I need wisdom. God created people for that role, and the more I'm aware of my own interactions with my dog, the more I am aware of the high pedestal so many pets are placed on. Humans were created and commanded to rule over the Earth (including animals) and to be good stewards of it, but the fact is that animals, even the perfectly adorable ones, are not what God made in His image. I am the Alpha Dog, but nothing more.
With that comes the delights of watching his floppy ear start to work its way skyward, the love of the hard puppy toys which result in slightly less razor-sharp teeth that frequent themselves on our clothing, and constant vigilance to protect our now mostly-white carpet. In the past two weeks, I have also discovered that social norms drastically differ for perfectly adorable puppy owner than the average 28-year old female taking a walk through the park.
Though I do not doubt that this will change once Nigel is a few pounds heavier, less soft, and has a bigger snout, his doting admirers (very friendly strangers) often share one commonly heard comment: referring to me as his *said in high-pitched baby voice* "Mommy!" The first time someone bestowed this title upon me, I was both shocked and slightly reviled. Now, after having heard it on many, many occasions from numerous sources, I am less shocked and slightly more reviled.
Yes, I am the (usually) happy owner of a perfectly adorable puppy, but Nigel is not my offspring. He is not my world. And, he is not the best thing to happen to me. The idolization of pets is never something I realized was such a huge deal until I got one. He is a DOG. He can keep me company, sure, but he can't speak truth into my life or enjoy hospitality with me or be a sounding board when I need wisdom. God created people for that role, and the more I'm aware of my own interactions with my dog, the more I am aware of the high pedestal so many pets are placed on. Humans were created and commanded to rule over the Earth (including animals) and to be good stewards of it, but the fact is that animals, even the perfectly adorable ones, are not what God made in His image. I am the Alpha Dog, but nothing more.
12.18.2012
Not Pertaining to Stuffed Salmon
Although I fear that with all of the writing and talking about what occurred last Friday this may just be white noise, I have felt compelled to write about this, even though I was originally planning on writing out the pretty banging recipe I made for stuffed salmon last night for dinner. Fish can wait.
I would like to address the question of why God would allow what happened on Friday to happen. IF there is a God and IF He is loving, why do so many painful things happen in this world. Why do innocent ones suffer? What is the purpose? Doesn't He care?
First, we need to be clear that MOST suffering is man-made. Would it be right to assume, then, that God is to blame for these things that were not made by Him? Our culture has completely cast God out- what right do we have to expect Him to jump in and rescue us from ourselves? Given that we are a nation and world that has decidedly cut God out of nearly every aspect of our lives, how is it that we have the audacity to demand that He do something when we perpetuate crime against each other (and Him!)?
The fact is that God has given us some very clear instructions that, if we actually took Him up on them, would drastically reduce the suffering, pain, and evil on Earth. If we actually put Him first, loved our neighbor, tell the truth, honor authority, not covet or steal, remain faithful in our marriages, not commit murder, etc. wouldn't our lives, on the whole, be so much better? Is God to blame, then, because we choose to spit in the face of those instructions? We suffer because we ignore those instructions.
Now, lets look at how God created us. He had the power to "program" us for complete obedience and compliance, but He didn't because He isn't a drill sergeant. He created a world where we are free to rebel and talk back and strike out and hate and abuse ever gift He has ever given us. He allows us to do this without jumping in every time without immediately setting us straight-- because that is what love does. It allows the loved me to disagree and to NOT love in return. God could have created robots who comply, but He wanted persons who love instead! He wants us to choose what we are going to love. Forced love isn't love though. So we live in a world of people who have chosen not to love God.
But why doesn't He stop it? What exactly would "stopping it" involve? It calls upon God to operate the world through constant interference... But would we actually want that? If an invisible foot kicked us every time we were bout to do something wrong, we would soon stop doing wrong outwardly, but wouldn't we start to resent the Owner of that invisible foot inwardly? We would be frustrated because we'd believe He was not letting us do what we want. So God is sort of in a no-win position: we blame Him when he doesn't " do something " but we would resent Him if he were to interfere.
Now suppose He did prevent suffering as you're asking. Perhaps he would jump in and wipe out the "big" causes of suffering- murderers and terrorism and abusers. Things would be great for a while, but them the "medium" causes of suffering (perhaps kidnappers and drug dealers) would seem big. So, He would get rid of those too. Now we are left with the "littler" causes, like those who cut us off in an intersection or lash out in anger or are bad neighbors, which would become big deals to us. So God wipes them out too. Who is left?? Ultimately, the answer isn't that God wipe those people out, but that He uses bad to create good and to change hearts so that they create love, and not sufferings.
God DOES want to stop suffering because it hurts Him to see His children in pain! But he wants to do so by restructuring the world... Not by wiping people out. He knows that force doesn't change hearts. Instead, He moves gently in people's lives who want to help Him recreate a world of love.
A couple of other thoughts. Sometimes suffering comes into our lives because God wishes to disturb the world around us so as to shock and change our world. Sometimes He will allow innocent, good people whose death will be so disturbing that its effect sends shock waves into our society to wake us up. Jesus was the ultimate example of this. Sometimes He allows these things because God can only teach certain lessons in dark places. Other times it "forces" us to create solutions and changes that make the world a better place. As humans, we are solution-oriented. We want resolution, things to be fixed, effects reversed, etc. But God is evolution-oriented... his chief concern is not that situation is changed but that WE are changed.
I hope this was in some way helpful. Most of what was here comes from a booklet that a pastor I had years ago wrote in a booklet called "If There's a God, Why Do We Suffer?" If you are interested in borrowing it or chatting more about this let me know.
12.13.2012
Keeping Up Appearances
Long ago, in the ancient days of infrequent blogging (not much changes...), I posted on a similar topic. Needless to say, this topic doesn't go away. As I was scurrying about yesterday getting ready to host a Christmas party the following thoughts plopped into my head, begging to be written down. I am sure that someone out there on the ol' internets needs to hear them, but mostly I think I need to verbalize them for myself. So if you want to hear a grown woman talk to herself in public, then please feel free to join me:
I knew that a bunch of women would be entering my home for a party. Now. These aren't just ordinary women who also happen to be in their 20-somethings like me. Most of these women are seasoned wives and cooks and homemakers whose children are at least my age. They are beautiful women with incredible wisdom, inspirational tender-heartedness, and soul-healing laughter. They are amazing women to me and I was delighted to be able to have them over to encourage and bless them.
Which, of COURSE, meant that the floor they walked on had to be vacuumed thoroughly (and Swiffered, in the appropriate areas). Naturally, being able to bless them was contingent upon having Christmas music playing at the perfect volume level of noticeable-without-being-intrusive in the other room. It would be unthinkable to serve the Blueberry Granola Parfait with any yogurt on the rim of the bowl. And, how could anyone have proper conversation if the two scented candles ("Christmas Pine" and "Winter Wonderland") remained unlit? Unthinkable!
Yes. I sound ridiculous. I'm aware. This is what trying to impress people looks like. People who really (get this!!)... Do. Not. Care.
As I was scurrying about, God brought the story from 1 Samuel 16 to mind, when He sent Samuel to pick out a new king from Jesse's sons. All of the men who were strong, handsome, undoubtedly ripped and toned-in-all-the-right-places were lined up as he went from one to the next, astonished, as God crossed each one off the list. This is where the oft-quoted verse, "Man looks at the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart" arose from. It occurred to me yesterday that this verse is applied entirely too quickly to physical appearance, but it shouldn't stop there.
Yes, we apply entirely too much stock in physical appearance, but what about social status? Selectively posting certain things in public forums that allow us to look like we have all of our neatly-groomed ducks in a row? What about appearance of wealth? Name brands can afford to be so much more expensive because they know consumers are willing to pay more to LOOK like they paid more! Now, I'm aware that not all credit card debt is a result of this, but leaving beyond your means is often rooted in this too (don't buy stuff you can't afford). Let me go beyond this one step further even. What about activities we choose to get involved with, and then go out of our way to bring up in conversation? Or books we have read? Or movies we have seen? Or places we have visited? Or experiences we have? Or people we know?
I am convinced that we often (yes, often) are motivated in some of these ways because we want others to be impressed by us. We KNOW that men look at our outward appearance/status/wealth/education/home/athleticism/gym membership/resume of travel/cultural awareness/music-hipness/etc. We build our lives around this knowledge. But it is all dust. What God thinks (and knows) about us is what determines eternity. Wouldn't our time, then, be a tad bit better spent on things that are actually of importance?
I knew that a bunch of women would be entering my home for a party. Now. These aren't just ordinary women who also happen to be in their 20-somethings like me. Most of these women are seasoned wives and cooks and homemakers whose children are at least my age. They are beautiful women with incredible wisdom, inspirational tender-heartedness, and soul-healing laughter. They are amazing women to me and I was delighted to be able to have them over to encourage and bless them.
Which, of COURSE, meant that the floor they walked on had to be vacuumed thoroughly (and Swiffered, in the appropriate areas). Naturally, being able to bless them was contingent upon having Christmas music playing at the perfect volume level of noticeable-without-being-intrusive in the other room. It would be unthinkable to serve the Blueberry Granola Parfait with any yogurt on the rim of the bowl. And, how could anyone have proper conversation if the two scented candles ("Christmas Pine" and "Winter Wonderland") remained unlit? Unthinkable!
Yes. I sound ridiculous. I'm aware. This is what trying to impress people looks like. People who really (get this!!)... Do. Not. Care.
As I was scurrying about, God brought the story from 1 Samuel 16 to mind, when He sent Samuel to pick out a new king from Jesse's sons. All of the men who were strong, handsome, undoubtedly ripped and toned-in-all-the-right-places were lined up as he went from one to the next, astonished, as God crossed each one off the list. This is where the oft-quoted verse, "Man looks at the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart" arose from. It occurred to me yesterday that this verse is applied entirely too quickly to physical appearance, but it shouldn't stop there.
Yes, we apply entirely too much stock in physical appearance, but what about social status? Selectively posting certain things in public forums that allow us to look like we have all of our neatly-groomed ducks in a row? What about appearance of wealth? Name brands can afford to be so much more expensive because they know consumers are willing to pay more to LOOK like they paid more! Now, I'm aware that not all credit card debt is a result of this, but leaving beyond your means is often rooted in this too (don't buy stuff you can't afford). Let me go beyond this one step further even. What about activities we choose to get involved with, and then go out of our way to bring up in conversation? Or books we have read? Or movies we have seen? Or places we have visited? Or experiences we have? Or people we know?
I am convinced that we often (yes, often) are motivated in some of these ways because we want others to be impressed by us. We KNOW that men look at our outward appearance/status/wealth/education/home/athleticism/gym membership/resume of travel/cultural awareness/music-hipness/etc. We build our lives around this knowledge. But it is all dust. What God thinks (and knows) about us is what determines eternity. Wouldn't our time, then, be a tad bit better spent on things that are actually of importance?
11.26.2012
Enlarged to Show Texture
This is totally unrelated to the following post, but I came across it yesterday and thought it was absolutely fantastic and worth the read:
Read me!
As I was getting food preparations together on Wednesday, my eyes fell upon a phrase often seen in the corner of a box of food that states "ENLARGED TO SHOW TEXTURE." Now, I do not claim to often jump immediately to object lessons every time I see something on the outside of a box of wheat thins, but for some reason this jumped out at me. (Really. I'm not that deep). I started wondering, "what if I was put on the front of a cereal box with that label?" What if my life was zeroed in on for all to see? What texture would you behold?
My hope is that the magnified texture on display would reveal a life "above reproach" -- one of sober-mindedness, self control, respectfulness, hospitality, gentility, dignified, wise in speech, and faithful (1 Timothy 3:2-11). If I am honest though, all too often that image would be humiliating. I am thankful that when God looks at me, He sees His Son's purity covering me and presenting a glorious texture acceptable and pleasing and glorious to behold. (Isaiah 1:18).
Coming up later this week: House pictures!
Read me!
As I was getting food preparations together on Wednesday, my eyes fell upon a phrase often seen in the corner of a box of food that states "ENLARGED TO SHOW TEXTURE." Now, I do not claim to often jump immediately to object lessons every time I see something on the outside of a box of wheat thins, but for some reason this jumped out at me. (Really. I'm not that deep). I started wondering, "what if I was put on the front of a cereal box with that label?" What if my life was zeroed in on for all to see? What texture would you behold?
My hope is that the magnified texture on display would reveal a life "above reproach" -- one of sober-mindedness, self control, respectfulness, hospitality, gentility, dignified, wise in speech, and faithful (1 Timothy 3:2-11). If I am honest though, all too often that image would be humiliating. I am thankful that when God looks at me, He sees His Son's purity covering me and presenting a glorious texture acceptable and pleasing and glorious to behold. (Isaiah 1:18).
Coming up later this week: House pictures!
11.15.2012
To Whom, For What, and Why?
Social media is truly a very mixed blessing. With it, we can unknowingly stalk love interests' photos, feed the flames of jealousy over what old acquaintances' lives look like, gain endless ideas for how to make "poo-less" shampoo and what to cover with chalkboard paint, and bemoan with like-minded sports fanatics over how so-in-so's team underperformed over the weekend and should be fired.
But for one month a year, some of the mediums turn into an outlet for positivity through which many have joined in expressing something they are thankful for each day. Now, particularly after the awful presidential campaign season, it is a refreshing change. However, it has brought me to contemplate the nature of thankfulness, particularly in public forums such as Twitter and Facebook.
Ever since I was a child sitting around the table at Thanksgiving, I always harbored conflicting thoughts about the practice of going around the room, with each person expected to proclaim something he or she was thankful for. It would often end with a toast, which I also never really understood, and then a gluttonous belly-stuffing. I regretted these conflicting feelings because I knew that being and expressing thankful sentiments was a good thing to do, but something about it never felt quite right to me. But it struck me this morning.
Thankfulness is recognition of something undeserved and expressing gratitude for it. Myriads of people express thankfulness for truly great things- love of family, sacrifice of military, met needs and desires, fond memories, etc. But I must question these expressions -- do we ACTUALLY believe we are undeserving of them? Secondly, what is the purpose of these expressions and proclamations? And finally, to whom is the recipient of these expressions of thankfulness?
(I do not pretend to be a mind or heart-reader. Nor am I pronouncing judgment on anyone who desires to practice thankfulness-- it IS a good thing! I need to hear this, myself, as much as anyone!). Young children are taught to respond by saying "thank you" upon receiving something. Not only that but saying it TO the giver. ("LOOK at her when you say it" and "Go over and say it TO him" are a few phrases I've heard a few times in my day). When you say "thank you" for something, you have to say it to someone for it to actually hold any purpose or meaning. So when I see "Day 14: I am thankful for my seven cats" as a status on Facebook, it causes me to wonder WHO is being acknowledged for the host of felines. OR, as I suspect is the case, the secular culture that we are waking up each day merely likes the idea of general gratitude that seems to make society a more pleasant place to exist in. Without acknowledging the origin of these seven cats, it is simply a statement that says, "I like having these cats in my life." Sitting around a Thanksgiving feast and proclaiming, "I am thankful for my health" expresses the pleasure of an easy life, not true thankfulness.
So what is missing? Ephesians 5:20 reads, "... Giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father..." Psalm 50 says, "Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving." Psalm 106:1 shouts, "Oh, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good, for His steadfast love endures forever!" A few chapters earlier in Psalm 100, the writer exclaims, "Enter His gates with thanksgiving and His courts with praise! Give thanks to Him!" Philemon expresses, "I thank my God always when I remember you in prayer..." Paul teaches in Colossians, "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly... With thankfulness in your hearts toward God..." What do all of these have in common? We are told to express thankfulness TO GOD. For what? The first verse (along with many I have not listed here) says simply EVERYTHING. Why are we to do this? Because God gives richly- that's why. I would like to challenge you (and myself) to carefully consider the heart behind the words of thankfulness during this season.
Thanks for reading. I thank God for you.
But for one month a year, some of the mediums turn into an outlet for positivity through which many have joined in expressing something they are thankful for each day. Now, particularly after the awful presidential campaign season, it is a refreshing change. However, it has brought me to contemplate the nature of thankfulness, particularly in public forums such as Twitter and Facebook.
Ever since I was a child sitting around the table at Thanksgiving, I always harbored conflicting thoughts about the practice of going around the room, with each person expected to proclaim something he or she was thankful for. It would often end with a toast, which I also never really understood, and then a gluttonous belly-stuffing. I regretted these conflicting feelings because I knew that being and expressing thankful sentiments was a good thing to do, but something about it never felt quite right to me. But it struck me this morning.
Thankfulness is recognition of something undeserved and expressing gratitude for it. Myriads of people express thankfulness for truly great things- love of family, sacrifice of military, met needs and desires, fond memories, etc. But I must question these expressions -- do we ACTUALLY believe we are undeserving of them? Secondly, what is the purpose of these expressions and proclamations? And finally, to whom is the recipient of these expressions of thankfulness?
(I do not pretend to be a mind or heart-reader. Nor am I pronouncing judgment on anyone who desires to practice thankfulness-- it IS a good thing! I need to hear this, myself, as much as anyone!). Young children are taught to respond by saying "thank you" upon receiving something. Not only that but saying it TO the giver. ("LOOK at her when you say it" and "Go over and say it TO him" are a few phrases I've heard a few times in my day). When you say "thank you" for something, you have to say it to someone for it to actually hold any purpose or meaning. So when I see "Day 14: I am thankful for my seven cats" as a status on Facebook, it causes me to wonder WHO is being acknowledged for the host of felines. OR, as I suspect is the case, the secular culture that we are waking up each day merely likes the idea of general gratitude that seems to make society a more pleasant place to exist in. Without acknowledging the origin of these seven cats, it is simply a statement that says, "I like having these cats in my life." Sitting around a Thanksgiving feast and proclaiming, "I am thankful for my health" expresses the pleasure of an easy life, not true thankfulness.
So what is missing? Ephesians 5:20 reads, "... Giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father..." Psalm 50 says, "Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving." Psalm 106:1 shouts, "Oh, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good, for His steadfast love endures forever!" A few chapters earlier in Psalm 100, the writer exclaims, "Enter His gates with thanksgiving and His courts with praise! Give thanks to Him!" Philemon expresses, "I thank my God always when I remember you in prayer..." Paul teaches in Colossians, "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly... With thankfulness in your hearts toward God..." What do all of these have in common? We are told to express thankfulness TO GOD. For what? The first verse (along with many I have not listed here) says simply EVERYTHING. Why are we to do this? Because God gives richly- that's why. I would like to challenge you (and myself) to carefully consider the heart behind the words of thankfulness during this season.
Thanks for reading. I thank God for you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)