Perspective

Perspective doesn't mean absence of pain.

                                    Perspective doesn't even mean peace.

Perspective adds some sense to what would otherwise be senseless.

It lends a small tinge of sanity in an otherwise insane experience.

I think we expect too much of perspective.

We put too much faith in its power.

Yet we need it as a barrier against dropping into the abyss of grief, loss, pain, and heartache.

We need to know that there's a bigger plan.  So perspective gives us this.  

But that's all it can give -- knowledge, awareness, recognition.  

Not solace, not comfort, not assuaging of suffering.

The rational mind seeks perspective, while the heart turns away, knowing that what it seeks can't be found there.  

Ecclesiastes and Hot Air Balloons

I'm reading through Ecclesiastes right now.  The commentator on the passages I've been reading continually remarks on the cynicism of the Preacher (the author of Ecclesiastes).  And, indeed, the theme of Ecclesiastes is expressed in its oft-repeated cries of "Meaningless, Meaningless -- all is meaningless!"  Essentially, the writer says that we work and we die -- this is all of life.  At this point the blog commentator pontificates ... "for those who are “under the sun” (Eccl. 6:12) and nothing more, what else is there? ...

We need a deliverer from outside our myopic horizons." 

(For the Love of God blog)

The image that popped into my head?  Hot air balloons.  Why is that?  I'm glad you asked.

As a young teenager, I remember lying on my bed in my sun-drenched room gazing up at the simple poster on my wall depicting hot air balloons against a deep blue sky.  The caption on the poster read, 

"Lord, life me above my own narrow horizons

 that I may fulfill Your true vision for me!"  

Inscribed so clearly in my mind is that poster because I would often ponder God's vision for me often as I lay there.  What would my life be?  Looking at that poster, I truly felt that "the sky was the limit." I loved (and still do!) the image of hot air balloons rising above the earth, catching the whole view from a bird's eye perspective.  

So when I read Ecclesiastes and when I get encumbered in the day-to-day, I'm glad for the vivid image of the hot air balloons rising high above, and I try to envision the big picture that God sees beyond "my own narrow horizon."

Conversation with Self

Journal Prompt from Sometimes Sweet:  "They say hindsight is 20/20, and with good reason- looking back at something always gives us a better view. We're often able to really see how our choices and decisions then shaped our today, and examine what we would have done differently given the chance. When looking back though, we often look way back, but for this exercise stay a little closer to present time and look back just 12 months. If you could go back just one year, what would you tell yourself? What advice would you offer about everything you've experienced?

What would my January 2013 self say to my January 2014 self?  "Self," I'd say, "Self, you must hold on for the long haul.  You must not give in or give up.  You must believe that God works behind the scenes even when you don't see anything happening.  The seeds that you are sowing today will bear fruit tomorrow.  Have patience and allow God time to do His thing."  

My January '13 self saw last year going a little differently.  My January '13 self failed to recognize the value of what she was doing at that moment, and my January '13 self saw only a certain solution to her prayers and worries.

So my January '14 self would remind my January '13 self:  "Self, you have no idea what God has in store for you.  You cannot imagine the depth of His wisdom and the direction of His plans.  So serve Him today and let Him take care of tomorrow's results.  Pray fervently today, trusting His plans to be the best solutions to your cares and worries."

I'm really not that far removed from my January '13 self.  I still want to run ahead and figure out how to solve my problems and the problems of those I love.  I still find it hard to pray with an open hand and a trusting heart.  But perhaps this little exercise has been useful in causing me to pause and learn from the ways God has worked in the past year.  May the next 12 months find me becoming one whose trust in God runs a little deeper and whose faith in her God stands a little stronger.

What would you tell your January '13 self?

Introverted, but not Inept

Have you noticed the introvert awareness craze sweeping social media lately?  If I've read one article on the introvert, I've read a dozen.  Not to mention the plethora of personality quizzes/tests, ad nauseum. Don't get me wrong, I take 'em -- every one of them! As an introvert myself, I confess to a personal fascination with the topic. In fact, I'm fascinated by discussions and analyses of personality in general.  But beneath these benign posts, quizzes, and articles lurks certain dangers.

DANGER #1 = The Victim Mentality.
It's the "I can't help it; that's just the way I am" way of thinking. We allow our personalities to define us, and we accept their limitations as final.  In other words, we begin to believe that "I'm just not good with people because I'm an introvert" or "I just can't speak in public because I'm an introvert." Or, for the extrovert, "I'm just not good at listening because I'm an extrovert" or "I can't be alone because I'm and extrovert."

 If I accepted this lie, I would not be able to do ministry. Period. 

 I would have no friends. Period.  

My relationships would all wither and die.  

If I accepted the lie of the limitations of my personality, I would be a hermit. 

Trust me, the thought's occurred to me.  It would be so much easier emotionally to never answer my phone, never leave my house,and never open my door.  Each encounter with people, even those I love dearly, requires an exertion of emotional energy. 

TRUTH TAKE-AWAY:  "I can do all things through Christ Who strengthens me."  (Phil. 4:16) God calls us and equips us to do what He's called us to do.  I passionately believe that God's Word is true.  I passionately desire to be a part of God's work here on earth.  So I fight the impulse to retreat into myself, and I push myself to open up.  Perfectly and always? No.  Some days I coddle my flesh.  Some days I hole away.  Some days I pass by a person in need with words unspoken.  But His strength is made perfect in my weakness (2 Cor. 12:9). I will never be able to love others, reach people, and share Christ without relying heavily on His strength and enabling grace.  So because my introverted tendencies cause me to rely on Him, I praise God. He keeps me humble and dependent on Him through this aspect of my personality.

DANGER #2 = The Pigeonhole Effect
Almost every article that lists traits of an introvert elicits the same mixed reaction from me, ranging from "Yes, that's me spot-on!" to "Eh, not really."  Rarely do I find an article where all 10 (or however many) points are me to a T.  No surprise there, huh?  I am a unique individual.  Tests can give ballpark, even very close results at best, but fail to plummet the depths of who you really are, in all your various layers.
Example:  One article I read recently said that introverts don't feel comfortable leading.  But I am a teacher. I lead all the time.  Leadership is one of my spiritual gifts, in addition to being a vocational necessity as a teacher.  I feel very comfortable leading and taking charge when it comes to Bible study or teaching a subject in which I have some expertise or knowledge.

TRUTH TAKE-AWAY:  Avoid assuming that someone's personality dictates her giftedness or ability.  Get to know people as individuals.  Knowing someone's personality tells you something about her, but not everything.  You may be surprised at the many "exceptions" that exist (kinda makes you wonder if we can even say what the real "rule" is...)!
As an introvert, most of my friends and close relationships tend to be with extroverts.  Why?  Because they pursue me, they don't feel inhibited to take the initiative in our relationship, they always have something to talk about so if I'm quiet sometimes, it's okay.  (And, honestly, it's just easier.  Back to that whole lack of expending extra emotional energy thing.) BUT, if I had always allowed the pigeonhole approach to prevent me from taking the time to befriend other introverts, I would have missed out on many rich friendships that I have in my life now.  It can be harder as an introvert to start a friendship with another introvert, but it's worth the effort.  Once the foundation has been laid,  the deep, "level five" communication that introverts so crave comes naturally without the prerequisite need for Small Talk (shudder, shudder).

Bottomline:  Personality type does not exempt us from the standards of Scripture and the call to Christlikeness.

Jesus, our role model, demonstrates the perfect balance.  

He took time to get away and be alone.  

Though being alone may be difficult for the extrovert, the benefits of occasional times of introspection and spiritual reflection demand that the extrovert disciplines herself in this way. 

Jesus also faithfully ministered to people despite tiredness and emotional fatigue.  

So, for us introverts, personality proclivities must not prevent us from sacrificially reaching out to those around us who need us.  

The extrovert may have no problem reaching out, and the introvert has no problem carving out alone time to get away and reflect. The reverse results in struggle for the respective personalities. 

Personality does not excuse us from doing what's right, from obeying the Spirit's promptings.  

Understanding personality differences can help us work together more effectively, harmonizing our strengths and weaknesses for the glory of God and the building up of His body (Eph. 4:16).

(Oh, and please keep sending me introvert/personality articles and quizzes.  I can't help but feed the fascination.)

What If......?

So I was at the library recently, browsing titles while Jacie played in the children's room when I came across a book about The Only Child (I don't remember the exact title).  I picked it up, surfed the Table of Contents, and skimmed over chapters that caught my interest.  Of course, as a secular book, it was missing many of the Biblical reasons to have multiple children, but much of it was addressed to the parent(s) who did not plan to just have one child.  Some beliefs/"myths" (their term) were cited such as feeling that your child will miss out on the "big, happy family" scene -- lots of playmates, forever friends, "us-against-the-world," "loyal-to-the-end" siblings.  I found myself nodding in agreement --- this is certainly one of my great fears/sadnesses as I think about Jacie being an only child, even if it's just for a block of time.  The book tried to "correct" that notion, saying that some sibling are competitors, fighting more than friends.  It also alleged that only children are more confident, achieve more, and are happier in general.  The book warned that children pick up on parents' projections, so that if a parent believes that her only child is somehow "gypped" of siblings, the child will pick up on this perspective and feel bereft and robbed, too. However, according to the book, if the parents are content with only one child, the child will not have experience any sense of "missing out."

As stated before, I took much of the book's reasoning with a grain of salt since it was written from a secular psychologist's standpoint, but it did cause me to re-examine my own attitude.  Perspective is everything, they say.  Some people plan for and want only one child.  So they would view me as crazy to be upset or affected in any way by having only one child.  Our perspective is also influenced by the people around us. As a theologically conservative Christian, I have deliberately surrounded myself with friends, family, books, blogs, and other media from this same conservative Christian perspective.  Rightly so, the family emphasis of these sources celebrates children in unlimited numbers, encouraging adoption in addition to biological children.  So as I mentally backed up to analyze my perspective after perusing the library book, I wondered how much of my sorrow and disappointment is based on an expectation that has been shaped by the influences in my life.  Maybe the beautiful image of a successful Christian family = many kids, all happy, healthy, well-disciplined, and home-schooled should be replaced by the reality that God's definition of a successful Christian family differs for each one, according to His Divine Sovereignty.

This isn't the first time I've had to re-align my thinking from the Christian culture around me.  As a single woman in my 20's, I did not fit the "good Christian girl" expectation of getting married right out of Bible college.  I wanted to.  The expectation was just as much mine as it was the church's.  Bible reading, biography reading, and prayer brought me to the rightful conclusion that following God's unique plan for my life meant serving Him in whatever state He had me.

The connection I'm making between singleness and "single-childness" makes sense to me.  Not that I will not continue to pursue God's leading for more children -- either biologically or by adoption or both -- but that maybe it's okay to have only one child.  Obviously, this IS the state He has me in -- by design, not by accident. Doesn't belief in His sovereignty mean that we accept what He's given us, realizing He gives only good gifts? Sadly, I would be fearful to even voice this view to some well-meaning Christians.  I know that the rebuttal will be "But I know so-and-so who adopted"  or "have you tried this....?" Back in the day, childless couples just accepted their childless state and filled their lives with service.  I know several older couples like this -- missionaries, Christian school teachers, and church leaders. Lest any of this rambling be misconstrued, I am so pro large families and I am so pro-adoption!  But might I be so bent on fulfilling these goals/expectations that I miss God's plan for my family and me?  Am I putting words in His mouth when I assume that a lack of biological children necessitates adoption?

Mullings...  musings....  thoughts still in process....

Out-of-the-box Grace!

I love the surprising, out-of-the-box kind of grace that characterizes our God!  Whenever this theme of Scripture pops up in my reading, as it did today, I have to stop and marvel once again.  God loves to break society's assumptions of who is the right type of person to be used by Him.  Think of Bathsheba (an adulteress), Ruth (a Gentile), Rahab (a prostitute), and Tamar (seduced her father-in-law), all of whom God chose to include in the line of His Son, the Messiah Jesus!

Luke 4:25-28 were the verses that jumped out to me today.  Jesus essentially says that His Grace is for outsiders!  Both Naaman the Syrian and the widow of Zarephath were Gentiles to whom God showed special favor during a time when Israel was under judgment.  When Jesus reminded His Jewish audience of these examples of God's grace, they "were filled with rage." Why? Because they thought only they were special enough to deserve God's favor!

Talk about grace that amazes, grace that defies the status quo! You can't put it in a box, like Israel wanted to do or like we sometimes want to do in the church today.  God's grace is given to the least likely, or even to those whom most would consider "foolish" (see 1 Cor. 1:27). I love it! How humbling yet, awe-inspiring -- that He would use even me!

goals and epiphanies

Normally, I scorn New Year's resolutions.  I think that if change is needed, one ought to do it regardless of the date on the calendar.  Why change just because it's January 1st?  This year is different.  This year I feel change bubbling up inside of me. Maybe it's the books I've been reading lately.  Maybe it's the growing conviction that a life lived unintentionally is a wasted life.  I don't want my life to be wasted.  I want to live with purpose, with intention.

Another reason I tend to avoid New Year's resolutions is the inevitable disappointment of failure that usually follows.  Lofty goals lead to certain defeat, in my mind.  But this year, the concepts of grace and purposeful direction have turned into an epiphany of sorts.  It's not about the numbers on the scale, or the public behavior of my child, or meeting the expectations of others; it's about living and walking in the direction of the convictions God has laid on my heart through His Word. So to that end, I've made my aim 5 out of 7 days of success in each goal. 

I want to grow as a mom, as a wife, as a spiritual mentor, as an academic professional, as a child of God.  I want to live a life that matters.  I want to shepherd my daughter's heart to love God and to enjoy life.  I want to become more like Jesus. I want to love my husband better.  I want to be more healthy and to create an environment of health for my family.  These priorities govern my goals.  

So here's to 2013! May it be a year of forward motion, not necessarily a year of goal completion.

What "forward motion" have you seen in your life over the past year? What are your goals for the new year?

Ministry Moments

To be honest, Thursday nights are not usually my favorite night of the week.  Maybe it's the rush to put dinner on the table, then leave the mess behind to rush out the door to teach ESL at 6:30 (the students so make this ministry a joy!).  Maybe it's coming home to the dinner mess still there, only now with a living room full of young adults poring over their Bibles under Conroy's enthusiastic leadership.  Maybe it's the inevitable late night followed by an early morning in the classroom.  Don't get me wrong; there's nothing I'd rather be doing than serving with my husband, teaching, and opening our home for Kingdom purposes.  And typically the initial inward groaning of this introvert-at-heart gives way to whole-hearted interaction.  It just takes me a moment.

But tonight... Tonight I felt it.  I felt the soul-deep satisfaction of doing what we are put on this earth to do.  I felt the bit of heaven on earth that ministry can sometimes be --- the moment when you feel that all you're doing is really making a difference, and you actually see and feel that difference.  The moment when eternal impact is felt.

Tonight I saw it.  I saw it in the bright, upturned face of one who is seeing the purpose in her heartache. I saw it in the dawning of realization in the eyes of a young believer when he heard "there's no longer condemnation to them who are in Christ Jesus" for the first time.

Tonight I heard it.  As I put away the dishes in the kitchen, the buzz of God-focused conversation sounded to me like the hallelujah chorus from Handel's Messiah.  I heard the rustle of the angels of heaven bending close to look into the things of grace they don't understand.

Tonight was a moment framed in gold, imprinted on my mind and heart, tucked away for pondering.  This is it.  This is why I do what I do, why I am what I am, why I married whom I married.  Our lives are all about God's Word and God's people, but the daily ordinary often feels less than significant. But tonight the ministry moment was tangible, the joy of it transcendent.

Colossians and Cravings

Two recent shaping forces in my inner life of late --- an online study of Colossians and a personal read of Made to Crave by Lysa Terkeurst.  The Colossians blog renewed my desire for writing/ blogging and for studying God's Word (nothing better than combining the two!).  Not sure what direction that renewed desire will take but this post is one step to get back into blogging.  Perhaps reinventing my blog approach is in order as well. As far as group study goes, I'm looking forward to doing the Good Morning Girls Advent study with a small group of ladies from my church.  So excited!

Made to Crave struck a nerve that the skeptic in me had tried to downplay.  This book slapped the "I've heard it all before" attitude right out of me and brought me to my knees in humility.  Two convicting concepts from the book:
1. "To him who knows what is right and doesn't do it, it is sin." No amount of chalking my failures up to lack of discipline or lack of strength can sugarcoat the reality that I am choosing to sin since I know how I should be eating. I've read extensively on the subject and understand the dangers of unhealthy eating.  Not liking to cook = choosing to be lazy instead doing what I know is right.  Consuming that sugary treat  = sin if its not in my calorie count/ budgeted eating.  Hard stuff, but it's truth smacking me upside the head.
2.   My struggles are my reality.  God chose to place this particular struggle in my life, knowing I'd either be self- indulgent or unsympathetic to others' struggles if I didn't have to work hard at maintaining a healthy lifestyle.  Just as it's wrong for me to look at other women with envy who don't struggle with infertility, it's wrong for me to be jealous of those who don't struggle with weight issues.  God's plan for my life is just that -- His plan for me -- unique, individualized, and shaped to produce the exact work He wants done in my life, a work that could be completed in no other way, through no other means. So food/weight issues are His gift to me? Sure, in the same way that my infertility is and my singleness was God's gift, specially and specifically crafted to transform me into the image of His Son.

So here am I am, struggles and all, stripped of excuses.  The question remains, what will I do with the truth I've been given?

Broken Dreams, Beautiful Exchanges

Orphanage visits in Jamaica.  Coming home to our large, mostly empty house.  Wondering about God's plan for our family.  Will our home ever be filled with our children, adopted or biological (the latter seems less likely as time moves on)? Or is the Divine Exchange a home filled with ministry? As my 40s creep closer and the dream of a large family appears more elusive, I search for an explanation, an alternative.  The why behind the closed womb.  An answer to the daunting question of adoption (mounds of paperwork, red tape, waiting lists, and $$$ for international adoptions).

Down to the marrow of my bones, I believe that God's plan is the best plan.  But am I missing it?  Is the battle with infertility meant to push us to fill our home with children who need a home?  Or is it something else altogether since the means necessary for adoption doesn't seem forthcoming?  I am willing to exchange my dreams for God's best, whatever that is.  It's just the waiting and uncertainty that get to me every time.

Parking Lot Ponderings

A short exchange in the parking lot of the grocery store left me with a lot to ponder recently.  As I was putting groceries into the car, an older lady walking by jokingly asked where I found Jacie in the store and commented that she'd take 10 of her!  I laughed and made some reply.  The short conversation turned nostalgic fast as often happens when talking with a mom whose children are grown. She gave me the oft-repeated advice to enjoy each moment since they grow up so fast.  Her parting comment is the one that stuck with me.  She stated, "When they're adults, they don't even know you exist."  The mix of sharp bitterness and sadness in her tone filled me with deep sympathy for this mother (and all mothers) who've given their hearts and days to their children only to feel rejected by those same children in their old age. I wanted to shake the offending adult children of this aged mama, and castigate them for their neglect.

On further thought, as I drove away, I began to imagine possible rejoinders from these unknown adult children.  Perhaps their mother had contributed to the estrangement or lack of compassion in her adult children by the way she'd treated them while they were younger.  I thought of my mother and how my grown siblings and myself flock to her like a drove of bees to the queen bee when she's around.  Her manner of raising us and graciousness has drawn us to her even in our adult years rather than driving us away. The takeaway of the parking lot encounter for me was a challenge to win the heart of my daughter, not by being her buddy, but by being a woman she can respect and a mother who handles her daughter's heart with care.

An Amish Farmer's Sign and Hope

As I travel a familiar, local route, I pass a simple sign outside a farmer's field that reads, "O Lord, it is nothing with Thee to help."  The straightforward plea strikes me every time, and I find its words replaying in my head during the week  -- "O Lord, it is nothing with Thee to help."

But sometimes it seems He doesn't.

Sometimes the crops are dry and harvest is scanty.

Sometimes the disease wins and the child dies.

Sometimes the much-prayed-for loved one makes the wrong decision anyway and suffers the hard consequences.

Sometimes the broken relationship remains unrestored, and the resulting hurt doesn't fade over time.

What then?  What do we do when the heartache of life seems greater than its joys?  How do we makes sense of the promise of the Lord's help?

Maybe, just maybe His help looks different than our preconceived notions of "help."  Perhaps He helps not by taking away the pain, but by holding us through it -- the way I "help" my child when she is scared of the dark.  I don't make the darkness go away, but instead, I hold her in my arms until she is comforted.  When the noise of the vacuum causes her to run to my arms, I don't always turn it off, but hold her while I finish cleaning. She is calmed, comforted, and "helped" as a result feeling safe and secure in my arms, not necessarily from the cessation of what caused her fear.

So when I look for help, I can find it in God.  He IS my help.

"Find rest, O my soul, in God alone.  My hope comes from Him."  (Ps. 62:5)

Odd Comforts

When I was single, one of the deep-down satisfying little routines I relished was moving around my little apartment at the close of the day -- turning off lights, closing blinds, and generally "shutting down" for the night.  In those moments, the quiet familiarity of these small habits soothed my soul like a lullaby. 

Now, as a wife and mother, my routines have changed and are rarely completely solitary, yet I still find moments of internal calm that bring me that same sense of satisfaction.  One hit me the other day as I waited for my mocha at the coffee shop. With Jacie in my arms and people bustling all around, the calm of waiting quietly for my drink among strangers wrapped around my soul.  Without moving, I let my eyes rove the room, soaking in the sense of satisfaction at the routineness of waiting in line, at the feeling of privacy inside my own head even while in a public place. 

Though quiet solitude is redefined for me now, I still find comfort in those momentary internal retreats when the world around me recedes and I feel the deep-rooted comfort that all is right with the world.  Inside my head, deep in my soul, I am still me and it is enough.