Two Men, Three Crosses

 There was a written notice above him, which read: THIS IS THE KING OF THE JEWS

One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: “Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!”

 But the other criminal rebuked him. “Don’t you fear God,” he said, “since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.”

Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.

 Jesus answered him, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.”
Luke 23:38-42

The car is not a happy place for me.  Four times my car has been totaled.  Four times the wreck was not my fault.  For me, when I am driving, I am fully aware each second that I am not in control of what anyone else on the road may do.  When something unexpected happens in the car, I can’t seem to stop my mind from playing the scenario through to it’s gory, fiery end.  Therefore, I am frequently on edge, white knuckling the steering wheel.

It is in the car that I most often ponder my demise.  It’s the closest I can imagine to what the thieves on the cross must have experienced, starting into the certainty of their mortality.  Two men, two completely different reactions.  One looking into the void with bitterness and arrogance, the other chastened, humbled.  And between them, a savior.

When I was young, I was afraid of dying,  afraid that I would die without asking forgiveness for each individual sin. I thought Jesus was capable of forgiving all, but that I had to recite each one.

To the thief on the cross, forgiveness was granted with open hands.  There was no complicated or detailed acts of contrition required, no game of cat and mouse.  Simply grace, offered openly.   Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise. 

How do you encounter Jesus?  Do you allow grace to be this easy?  Or do you muddy the waters with your own dance of atonement?  I know that I do, feeling that I must fully wallow in my guilt and seek to fix things before I allow Jesus to lift away my sin.  Grace is a free gift.

But grace, though freely given, was purchased at a costly price.  On the cross, in between those two thieves, was one innocent man.  Who suffered.  Groaned.  Bled.  For your sake, and mine.  On this Good Friday, I challenge you to take some time to reflect on the price paid for your sin, and offer up thanks to your Savior.

three-crosses-kelly-nowak

Betrayal

Now the Festival of Unleavened Bread, called the Passover, was approaching,  and the chief priests and the teachers of the law were looking for some way to get rid of Jesus, for they were afraid of the people.  Then Satan entered Judas, called Iscariot, one of the Twelve.  And Judas went to the chief priests and the officers of the temple guard and discussed with them how he might betray Jesus.  They were delighted and agreed to give him money. He consented, and watched for an opportunity to hand Jesus over to them when no crowd was present.
Luke 22:1-6

As I was meditating on this passage today, I found myself struggling to put myself in Judas’ shoes.  What would it take for me to betray Jesus?   But as I thought from his perspective, I realized something.  There must have been a lot of moments, small disappointments, that led up to this moment of betrayal.  At some point back in Judas’ past, Jesus had not lived up to the standard of what Judas thought he should be.  And since that point, small moments, slights, and disappointments had been adding up.  To the point that a true believer became jaded.  A disciple turned into a thief.  A savior was betrayed for 4 months wages.

Judas, like the rest of the nation of Israel, had been waiting for the Messiah for a long long time.  400 long years had passed without one prophet, one word from God.  And now, Jesus enters the scene.  What would they hope for in a savior, this tiny, downtrodden nation?  A warrior king?  A fierce deliverer?  A strong leader with the courage, the riches, and the fierce will to restore the Glory of Israel?

Instead, they got a carpenter.  A man who tells parables instead of issuing rallying cries.  Who spurns the religious elite for a band of outsiders, foreigners and misfits.  A man who in no way is living up to the savior Judas had built up in his head.  To me, the only way this betrayal makes sense is if it is built out of bitterness- broken dreams and unmet expectations.

All of this begs the question: Who do I want Jesus to be? 

So I sat with it.

Judas

The first few things that came to mind were born out of my immediate desires:

  • Safe
  • Under Control
  • Predictable
  • Linear

Then, I tried to dig deeper into that.  What came to mind- compassionate (to realize that my striving, to see that I am seeking to please), listening (to hear my need for direction, my pleas for mercy), Loud (to speak above my constant clamoring to hear Him).

As I sat, thinking of what I truly needed in a Savior, a final thought.

NOT ME.

I need Jesus to be something outside of my constructs.  In order for him to be safe, and in order for him to be sovereign, he must be bigger than me, higher than me.  He must have an eternal perspective, to see all stories that weave together into The Story.  To be fully for me, He must not be caught up in my daily whims, tumults, and crises.  To be worthy of my faith, to be the true hope of the world, he must be exactly what he is.  Human.  Divine.  Sovereign.  Just.  Merciful.  Unexpected.

When the men came to Jesus, they said, “John the Baptist sent us to you to ask, ‘Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?’”

 At that very time Jesus cured many who had diseases, sicknesses and evil spirits, and gave sight to many who were blind.  So he replied to the messengers, “Go back and report to John what you have seen and heard: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor. Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.”
Luke 7:20-23

Cans of Veggies and Wet Feet

 It was just before the Passover Festival. Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.
 The evening meal was in progress, and the devil had already prompted Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot, to betray Jesus.  Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God;  so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him.
 He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?”
Jesus replied, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.”
“No,” said Peter, “you shall never wash my feet.”
Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.”
“Then, Lord,” Simon Peter replied, “not just my feet but my hands and my head as well!”
John 13:1-9

I had a bizarre dream last night.

I was being discharged from the hospital.  My room was filled with plastic bags of canned vegetables (why? who can even know) that I had to take to the car.  However, after lugging them down the stairs (in my hospital gown), I found that my car had been moved.  My friend offered to drive me around to look for the car, but in the process she kept not listening to my directions, turning the wrong way, and running into walls.  I couldn’t find my car, and my arms ached from holding up the heavy bags.  I was anxious to the point of frenzy, still woozy from my illness, and unwilling to surrender my burdens. 

And then I woke up to the sound of my one year old crying.  Now I am no dream analyst, but I can pretty much tell from this dream that I have some control issues.  And some feeling-out-of-control issues.  Starting my morning in this manner left me feeling a bit jittery, and like there was something I NEEDED to do, a small alarm ringing in the back of my mind.

And then today, I sat down to meditate on Jesus washing Peter’s feet.  As I sat in the silence and imagined that moment, I began to have some of the same reactions as Peter.

But wait- Jesus, I serve YOU, you don’t serve me!  Yes.  This sounds good.  And this is a principle I adopt more often than not when it comes to life as a disciple of Jesus.  But it is totally backwards.  When I view myself as a servant of God, and don’t first allow Jesus to minister to me, I am operating on human terms.  My service to God is earning me favor.  It keeps me feeling secure, righteous, and in control.

Laying down all my gold stars, all my good works, all my efforts, and allowing Christ to cleanse me is a powerful act of surrender.  It is saying that I can’t keep things going smoothly on my own.  There are too many cans of vegetables (I know- it’s bizarre- but let’s roll with the metaphor) and the car keeps moving.  I will never finish the task on my own.  And I am not meant to.  Because if it were possible for me to be good enough on my own, then Jesus sacrifice for me would be a cosmic waste of time.  And oh how I am in need of that sacrifice.  I need the redemption.  I need to be forced to admit that I can’t do it all by myself.  I need to be willing to be humble enough to allow God to minister to my soul- my heart, my needs.

The martyr on the Cross should always remain Christ.  When I look at my life and realize that that I am casting myself in the role of suffering servant, it’s time for a reality check.  For if I can’t humble myself and allow Christ to wash my feet, how can I possibly accept the enormity of his sacrifice for me? If I am unwilling to first be ministered to by Christ, then those who see my efforts will never see God shining through them, only the increasingly strident acts of a pretty good human.

If I keep trying to be good enough, responsible enough, DO enough to keep my life running smoothly, I will inevitably fail.  The truth is, we aren’t in control of our lives.  Sooner or later, something will happen that will prove to us beyond all doubt that WE are not in charge.  And when that happens, if all of our trust and valor is built upon our own resources, our defenses will crumble.  However, if we continually seek to submit to the tender ministrations of Christ, then we know the One who holds our future.  And we are able to stand in trust that God is sovereign, and that God is in control. Humility leads to trust, and trust leads to a deeper, truer life.

wash20feet

Alabaster Jar

Six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus lived, whom Jesus had raised from the dead.  Here a dinner was given in Jesus’ honor. Martha served, while Lazarus was among those reclining at the table with him.  Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.

 But one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, who was later to betray him, objected, “Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money given to the poor? It was worth a year’s wages.”  He did not say this because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief; as keeper of the money bag, he used to help himself to what was put into it.

“Leave her alone,” Jesus replied. “It was intended that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial. You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me.”
John 12:1-8

This Holy Week, my church is hosting a collection of daily reflections, each day focusing on a different character in the narrative of Jesus’ final days.  Today, we reflected upon Mary’s anointing of Jesus.

It is commonly held that Mary anointed Jesus with an alabaster jar of pure nard, worth about a year’s wages.  An extravagant gift.  Many reflections dwell upon the value of this act, the monetary investment wrapped up in it.

But today, as I was sitting with this passage, I found myself thinking along another line.  This alabaster jar of nard was usually given to a Jewish female by her parents, traditionally as a bride price.  Therefore, as Mary used this precious gift to anoint Jesus, she must have also been aware of the hopes and dreams associated with this oil as she was pouring it on the Lord’s feet.  Hopes for a wedding, a family, a life filled with love and joy.  That jar, that oil, meant so much more to her than it’s monetary value.  After all, oil is meant to be used.  It is how and where it is used that is significant.

All of the hopes wrapped up in this small jar are wonderful things, and yet, all of them also have the potential to become idols.

alabasterThis made me wonder- What is in my jar? What hopes, dreams, and values am I holding in my jar full of treasures?  What are the things for me, that are valuable beyond simply their monetary worth?

Here is another common misconception.  Mary did not smash the jar to get the oil out.  Instead, when it says she broke the jar, what it means is that she broke the seal on the jar.  God didn’t ask her to smash her dreams to bits in service to Him.  Neither does he ask this of us.  As I was praying through this, I began to understand something more clearly:

I don’t believe that God calls us to sacrifice our dreams,
But he does ask us to surrender them.

To me, the difference between sacrifice and surrender is similar to the difference between smashing the jar and breaking the seal.  When the jar is smashed, its contents become  useless, poured out on the floor amidst sharp shards of the broken vessel.  However, when the seal is broken the jar remains whole, its contents protected.  But the beautiful aroma begins to escape, and permeate the room.

I can admit that there are many dreams I hold that I have been afraid to surrender.  They are too precious to me to be willing to allow God to do what he wants with them. They are too tender even for me to be willing to fully name them, for fear that they won’t come into being.  Yet hoarding them sealed tight in a jar is the one way to guarantee they won’t come into being.  Instead, I think that God is calling me to take a step in trust.  Break the seal.  Allow God to begin working with them, and allow the aroma to begin to permeate my world…

Lean not on your own understanding.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;
Proverbs 3:5

pathI love this verse.  The words to Proverbs 3:5-6 are the lyrics to the song that I sing both my children each night before bed.  My son came home from school last week and this was his ‘scripture’ for the week.  To hear his precious, 3 year old voice reciting these precious words meant the world to me.  Of the lessons I hope they learn from their mother, I hope these words rank high on the list.

So I was surprised to discover today that I have not been living as if I believe them.

I was watching this video today, as part of my Lenten devotionals.  The monk who is speaking tells of the lesson he learns from his dog- who greets each morning by springing out of bed with an exuberant yip.  This dog’s delight to face the day points to two things- first, an admirable lack of caffeine dependence, and second (and more importantly), an inherent trust in the faithfulness of God.  In order to take joy and delight in what our day holds, we must trust that the One crafting the day has our good in mind.  When we know this deep in our souls, we are able to engage our lives with a sense of lightness and whimsy.

How do you get out of bed in the morning?

I know I don’t spring out of bed.  When facing the day of late, my attitude has ranged from somber to resigned.  I look at the future with a sense of anxiousness, not adventure.  When did this happen to me?  I know the One who holds my future.  I believe his promise to work things for my good!  I delight in my work, my children, my friends… so why the sense of resignation?  When did my actions and attitudes begin to belie my belief?

And how to change it?

Resolution #1- Seek delight.
Daffodils.  Curly toddler hair.  trail mix.  thomas the train.   All wonderful, beautiful elements of my day so far.  Did I take the time to delight in them?  No.  I walked past, fixated on the next task in front of me.  Going forward, I hope to acknowledge these small gifts, allow them to bring to light the blessings and love in my life.

Resolution #2- View the future in light of the past.
I am amazingly blessed.  God has been so faithful to me.  Even when things logically should NOT work out- budgets shouldn’t balance, children should have been injured- I have been amazingly, miraculously blessed.  God is good.  All the time.  Why is this not my operating premise?  From here on out, or at least, starting today, starting right now, I am walking in trust.  God will provide.  God is good. He is the bringer of daily bread, and the one who directs my paths.

How are you neglecting to walk in trust? How are you leaning on  your own understanding?  In what ways is God calling you to walk in trust, to embrace delight, today?

That Time Yoga Pants Blew Up My Facebook…

**I want to say up front that I HATE conflict of any type, and I legitimately see ALL sides to this issue.  I am trying to tread a fine line here, while also acknowledging my feelings and beliefs.  So let me begin with the blanket assertion… if what I write seems offensive to you, I am sorry.  I didn’t mean it that way.  I promise**

A few weeks ago, I posted an article to my timeline that was reminiscent of some conversations I had with my roommates in college.  I thought we would have a chuckle and that would be that.  To my surprise, the link began filling up with comments almost immediately.  Clearly I had hit a nerve.

The article was on the debate about whether yoga pants and leggings are appropriate things for Christian women to wear.  The comments were so immediate and so passionate, that I realized there was much more to the issue than meets the eye.  And when I reflected upon it, my feelings ran deep too.  So here is my response.  To everyone.

Let me start by stating the obvious.

1) There are more important issues in Christendom.  People are dying.  Souls are at stake.  Yes.  Let’s dig wells and seek reconciliation and lift high the name of God.  But, with the level of emotion here, I think this may also be an issue that needs to be brought to the table.

2) Dressing modestly is important.  I do not wear string bikinis, crop tops, or short skirts.  I do think that it is part of our responsibility as Christian women to “dress modestly, with decency and propriety” (1 Timothy 2:9).  However, the issue here is not push up bras.  This conversation is about yoga pants.  First cousin to sweatpants.  Just to be clear.  I also realize that there are some black sheep yoga pants out there that were designed to entice.  However, I think it’s safe to say the people wearing these items are not reading this blog.  So stinging rhetoric in the blogosphere is not the most effective way to address this issue.  My assumption is that the women reading this blog own yoga pants paired with hooded sweatshirts, and leggings sold to be pants and not followed by ‘-yhose’.

OK.  That out of the way, here we go.  *deep breath*

The number one argument used against leggings/yoga pants/female clothing trend in debate is usually this…

Be careful, however, that the exercise of your rights does not become a stumbling block to the weak.  For if someone with a weak conscience sees you, with all your knowledge, eating in an idol’s temple, won’t that person be emboldened to eat what is sacrificed to idols? So this weak brother or sister, for whom Christ died, is destroyed by your knowledge.  When you sin against them in this way and wound their weak conscience, you sin against Christ. Therefore, if what I eat causes my brother or sister to fall into sin, I will never eat meat again, so that I will not cause them to fall.
-1 Corinthians 8:9-13

Following this line of thought, men who view women in tight pants can stumble, by being caught up in lustful thoughts.  Valid.

However, I would like to bring up another side to this debate.  What if the person caused to stumble into sin by this current debate is me?

Here is the thing.  My body image has always been a stumbling block to me.  I struggled with eating disorders in high school.  I have never once felt comfortable in tight, or even correctly fitting… anything.  And, as I grow older, I realize how MUCH emphasis is put on women’s bodies by the media, by society’s norms, and by my fellow sisters in Christ.  Female actors are critiqued on the clothes that they wear instead of the words that come our of their mouth.  In a middle school girl’s argument, the worst thing you can say is “well you’re FAT.”  We as women are constantly under a microscope- it feels as if our body does not belong to us, but to the public domain.  Am I a person, or an object?  Each time a wardrobe debate comes up, and they come up often, the message is reinforced that there is something inherently wrong about my body.  That I have to change, to hide, to be ashamed of my physical self.

In the church we speak a lot about souls.  And there is this implicit thought that we as humans are souls trapped within bodies.  That this physical container is merely a temporary holding place, something we must deal with until we are set free by death.  At best, our body is labeled as a temple- but still the message is that we have to care for it, feed, water, and exercise  to make sure it is an acceptable holding place for the Spirit of God.

But what if, as humans, we are souls created WITH bodies?  That our body, just like out soul, is part of the way God created us?  That my physical self is just as much ME as my mind or my soul or my heart?  That instead of hating it, starving it, resenting it, or hiding it, it is part of my journey as me? That coming to love me, my body, it’s limitations, its daily embarrassments, is part of my journey of faith?  Let’s put it out there- we all fart.  Perhaps that is a means of teaching humility.  We all have parts of our bodies we would change if we could.  Maybe that reminds us that God’s plans are higher than our plans.

This is probably one of the few times you will hear me talk about my body, or my struggles with self image.  Why?  Because I don’t want that to become a defining storyline of my life.  I don’t want to pass along a legacy of shame about my body to my children.  Because I have decided that the way I look, the numbers on a scale, the jiggle in my yoga pants, isn’t what matters about me.  That may sound trite, but for me, this is a huge battle.  One I fight daily.  And it’s one fought by us all one one level or another.  So be gentle with each other.

Here is the thing I have noticed recently- the main people objecting to yoga pants these days?  Women.  Females judging other females.  Sisters, why are we tearing each other down?  Why are we so busy policing each other, instead of encouraging each other?  What logs in our own eyes are we ignoring as we focus on the splinters in others?

Perhaps you hate my yoga pants… but honestly, isn’t there something else more important to say to me?  Like- ANYTHING else?  Because the fact I am wearing yoga pants today probably says a lot about the kind of morning I had- wrestling two toddlers into clothes and on to school.  Or maybe it speaks to the fact that I spent some time on myself today and went for a run.  That’s something I am proud of, and had to sacrifice to do.  Let’s focus more on the why of the pants, instead of the what.  It leads to a better place.

yoga pants

What does the Lord ask of you?

I have been reading through the Bible in 2015.  A week or two ago, I came across a passage I liked…

And now, Israel, what does the Lord your God ask of you but to fear the Lord your God, to walk in obedience to him, to love him, to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul,  and to observe the Lord’s commands and decrees that I am giving you today for your own good?
Deuteronomy 10:12-13

As I was underlining it, I was thinking- “Great! Cliff’s notes!” And (because I am me, “This would make a great piece of art…”)

What does the Lord require of you?

  • Fear the Lord your God
  • Walk in obedience
  • serve the Lord your God with all your heart and soul
  • Observe the Lord’s commands

What a great list.  Something to aspire to.  Something you can take, put in your pocket (bind to your forehead?) and check yourself against daily.

But as I was sitting with this verse, a voice whispered…  but this is the old covenant…

Let me start off by saying, there is nothing WRONG with this list.  It is scripture!  Words from God!  But, as I was reading this list, I was reading about ME.  What  can do to make myself right with God.  How I can ensure that my walk with God is ‘correct’.  How I can give myself a daily grade that ensures that I am being a good enough Christ follower.

One thing God has been teaching me lately is that my faith is much less about me and my efforts than I think.  Rather, it is so much more about GOD, and what He has done for me.  I have been trying to live out a faith based on the old covenant- my perfection, my efforts.

I think it is so very… human of us to want to be in control of our relationship with God.  Are spiritual practices good?  Of course.  But they do not control how much God loves us.  Whether or not he will bless us.  Instead, God’s blessings are given freely.  And don’t always take the form we believe they should (read: money, happiness, easiness of life).  In fact, God’s blessings can sometimes take the form of thorns in our sides, things that we must endure and grow through.  Things that force us to turn to Him.

So what does God ask of us?

And this is his command: to believe in the name of his Son, Jesus Christ, and to love one another as he commanded us.
1 John 3:23

Belief. Love.  Actions rooted in love and belief are SO much more grace filled than those born out of a sense of obligation or striving.

Can it be this simple?  Can our faith, and faith practices, be built on love and belief instead of guilt and striving?  Do you, like me, find yourself tempted to live out of the Old Covenant?  If so, take a few moments today to pause.  To allow yourself to feel loved, wholly and holy, just as you are.

Leave a Bite

To the true disciple a miracle only manifests the power and love which are silently at work everywhere as divinely in the gift of daily bread as in the miraculous multiplication of the loaves. ~Fredrick William Robertson

I have noticed a trend in my life lately.  God has taught me in my life thus far that if I notice a trend, an echo, to stop and to pay attention.  That this is somewhere where He is at work.

This is what has been happening… recently, whenever a friend asks me how they can pray for me, I have the same answer…

Daily Bread.

This isn’t an intentional answer, or a rehearsed response, but instead the heartfelt response to what I need in that moment.  When it happened today for the third time in a week, I realized that there was something deeper happening here.  What is it that I am asking for?

There are only a few things in my life that I know in my bones.  Just a handful of lessons that were so hard-fought that I do not doubt them at all.  God’s unwavering faithfulness is one of those truths.

So what is it that am I asking for?  I know that God will provide, so what is it that I need?  As I look more deeply into the request, I realize that I am not so much asking for God’s provision (which I know will arrive).  Instead, I am asking for the clarity to see that provision for what it is.  The daily miracle.  Blessings given by my Father, instead of just things working out as I hoped they would.  I want to have the eyes to see.  To be attuned and expectant so that when the daily bread arrives, I see it for the blessing that it is.  To stop and be thankful, instead of taking things for granted.  To hear the whispers of God’s answers when I am straining so desperately to hear.

But here is another thing.  When the Israelites were in the desert, they had the literal miracle.  Miraculous bread from the sky, to be gathered at dawn.  A daily delivery for 40 years.  And still, they tried to hoard it.  To gather a bit more than they needed, a buffer against hard times.  I do this too.  Hoping for more than just the energy and patience to get through the day.  Wanting more than just a moment of time by myself in prayer, or with my kids before bedtime.  I am always hungry for more.  And yet God is in the business of giving exactly enough.

One place where I see this show up so often is at the table.  I am blessed, so very blessed to be a human on this planet who does not have to worry about having enough to eat.  I can eat to satisfaction at any point during the day.  And yet, with each meal, I find myself eating more than enough.  One more bite.  One more taste.  One more treat.  Why?  I don’t have a reason.  Or my reason is… because it is there.

So my challenge to myself is this: Leave a bite.  It seems so small, so trite, when I write it down.  But I have a feeling this one may be the hardest one I set for myself this year.  Leaving a bite on the plate is a metaphor, an act of trust, of walking in faith that God will provide.  But it also may break the weird hold that food has over me.

Isn’t life more than food, and your body more than clothing? Matthew 6:25

My life is so much more than food and clothing.  Yet both of those things are where I turn for comfort.  To boost my mood or cheer myself up.  Calories or commerce.  Those are my two crutches.  Leaving a bite of food is an act of defiance to my secret sin.  It is me saying… no.  I choose to look elsewhere.

Also, the principle of self-sacrifice has been something that has resonated with me lately.  Leaving a bite, for me, seems like the first step in that direction.  Here are the words from John Ortberg’s Soul Keeping that have got me thinking in this direction…

Sometimes the smallest acts of sacrifice or self-denial can break up hard soil. A friend of mine sent me a few sentences from an article she saw online on “How to Stay Christian in College”: . . . make small sacrifices. Make a vow to wake up and go to breakfast every morning, even if your first class isn’t until eleven a.m. Choose a plain cheese pizza rather than pepperoni. You’ll be surprised how these tiny sacrifices work an interior magic, shifting your focus ever so slightly away from yourself.

What would happen in my life if I was less focused on myself and my needs, and more focused on others?  I think it may be time to try and find out… IMG_1759

Advent

Truth: By this time last week, I was already sick of Christmas.  Those of you who know me may have a hard time believing that.  Christmas has always been my thing.  When my husband and I were dating, we had to have several (heated) conversations about when the appropriate date to start playing Christmas music would be.  (me- October 1st.  him- December 23rd)  However, working at a church makes Christmas your busiest time of year.  I have two MAJOR church events I am coordinating that happen between December 21st and 24th, involving most of that week and about 200 people.  Overwhelming.

And then there is the fact that I have two children.  All of a sudden, there is so much pressure to create Christmas memories.  Pictures with Santa.  Tours through the lights.  The perfect tree.  The decorated house.  The Pintastic holiday cards.  The music.  The cookies.  The candy.  The parties.  The Christmas PJs and Christmas dresses and angel breakfast and nativity plays and presents for daycare teachers and… And… AND…

It was December 8th.  My house was not decorated.  I had no tree.  No Christmas cards.  No energy.   I hadn’t been able to go to worship at my church for 2 weeks because I was too busy doing OTHER things for church.  I wanted it done.

Amy, my pastor/supervisor/friend, gave me great advice.  Advent is about celebrating the approach of Christmas, not its onslaught.  Instead of feeling overwhelmed that Christmas is only 3 weeks away, savor the fact that you still have 3 weeks to prepare for the coming of our Lord.

ad·vent
ˈadˌvent/
noun
 The arrival of a notable person, thing, or event.

Advent is the discipline of anticipation.  It is about arrival, not about adherence.  It is the practice of preparing our hearts and minds to meet the Lord.  It is not about decorations, trees, or creating new memories.  It is instead, about savoring the shared memory that we as Christians hold together.  Christ has come.  As a baby, as a Savior, as our Sacrificial Lamb.  This season is about privilege, not obligation.  And for me, it may not be about the date on the calendar.  I can celebrate the miracle of the birth of Christ just as honestly the week after Christmas as the week before.  And perhaps that needs to be part of my personal spiritual walk, at least in this stage of life.

But that doesn’t resolve what to do with the STUFF that comes along with Christmastime… And here is where I have landed.  I am going to try and mine the original intent from these practices.  I want to see these things as part of the celebration of advent.  The lights can remind us of Christ, the LIGHT of the world.  The parties, a way to celebrate this miracle with those who we hold dear.   The cards, a way to send our thoughts and love to our people far away.  The gifts, a chance to remember the Gift we have been given.  And if something robs me of my joy (*cough* ELF ON THE SHELF), it gets eliminated.

And now, from a better place of mind and heart, I can say,

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
Let your heart be light… 

nativity

And then there is this… https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hgOIYvDgSLg

You are Enough

I feel it so deeply. The need to achieve. The pull to perform, to receive the inevitable accolades, compliments, comments “I don’t know how you do it all…”

But here is the truth.

I can’t do it all.

My life is a permanent tug of war. One length of rope, being mercilessly yanked in different directions. And, just like in the playground game, one side is always winning. Which means, at the same time, one side is always losing. If I feel like I am doing well at work, it is at the expense of my family. When I am spending the time I desire to spend with my children, there is no time to spend in the Word. And almost daily, I feel as if every side is losing. Emails go unanswered. Prayers truncated. Frozen chicken nuggets for dinner. These are the realities of my life. These are the rhythms of my days.

I hate it. It’s not how I imagine things should be. And oh how I hate that word. Should. In 6 letters, the summation of all our unrealistic expectations, the thoughts that keep us up at night. The voice that whispers to us that we have failed. That we are insufficient. That we aren’t doing it right.

I could write a long, whiny, self indulgent essay all about the things I think I should be doing better and how I am habitually horrified when a call from work goes unreturned or I lose patience with my toddler. I will spare you. Trust me it happens. And it is humiliating, humbling. So utterly not me.

Not me to the point that I am questioning my life. Am I doing the right thing? Am I built to be a working mother? Should I be attempting to engage in vocational ministry at this stage in my life, or is this hubris, my selfish insistence I can do it all? In the process of this questioning, I have gone to so many others for council. My supervisor. My senior pastor. Spiritual directors. Other spiritual directors… And from them all, the message has been the same.

YOU ARE ENOUGH.

This is a chapter of your life where things will not get done in the way that you want them to get done, and that is okay. God has called you to this place, to this ministry, to this station in life. You. Are. Enough.

From all these people I respect, I have received the same answer. When you are raising young ones, that is your primary calling. It is ok to feel that this task takes all your free time. BECAUSE IT DOES. This is the time when you need help, not when you are free to help others. This is the time in life where you get through the day and fall into bed exhausted. The time for reading trade paperbacks, not national book award winners. The time when your quiet time looks much more like a whisper of Lord help me than an in depth study of the scriptures. And I say this not as an excuse, but as a benediction. Be where you are, be who you are, and know that that is sufficient. Do what gives you life, and allows you to nourish the lives of the others in your care. Realize that God’s presence and love is a constant, not dependent on what you do or achieve. Lean into that. Rest in it.

Friend, receive this message today. If you are like me, it is a hard one to hear. It involves an element of sacrifice, and humility. But it is true.

You are enough.

Take a deep breath and sit with those words, let them settle into your bones. Allow the truth of that to seep into your soul. You are enough. God has called YOU into the situation in life you find yourself in, and, if you rest in that truth, you realize that your gifts, your availability, your constraints, are all part of God’s good plan.

Ecclesiastes 3:10-13
I have seen the burden God has placed on us all. Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end. So I concluded there is nothing better than to be happy and enjoy ourselves as long as we can. And people should eat and drink and enjoy the fruits of their labor, for these are gifts from God.

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