As I've been telling my kids (more and more bluntly as I realize how short their time is before Mom's perspective on their lives is relegated to somewhere deep in the compost pile), we speak to God through prayer and He often speaks to us though the Bible. That's why it's important to read your Bible regularly, Kids.
Last week, I read these verses from Revelation 21, which spoke to me in a new way:
6 He said to me: “It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To the thirsty I will give water without cost from the spring of the water of life. 7 Those who are victorious will inherit all this, and I will be their God and they will be my children. 8 But
the cowardly, the unbelieving, the vile, the murderers, the sexually
immoral, those who practice magic arts, the idolaters and all liars—they will be consigned to the fiery lake of burning sulfur. This is the second death.”
Now, I haven't spent much time in the book of Revelation since my preteen years, when I turned to the exciting dragon part on Sunday mornings when the sermon dragged on too long. (Kids: this is great way to stave off boredom during sermons without getting in trouble. No parent will give you The Look for reading your Bible! Oh wait, not sure I should be sharing that advice.) But I can tell you that these verses come almost at the very end of the whole Bible, during the most cathartic conclusion in all the world's literature. And this is a true story, no matter how symbolically you interpret Revelation to be. It's His ending, our ending, my ending. I am thirsty for His living water and eagerly anticipate taking my place in the world's only genuine Happily Ever After.
But this time, a different part of these verses jumped out at me: a sure sign that I the reader should be paying attention. Look back at the very first sin listed in verse 8. "Cowardly"??? What is "cowardly" doing among the despicable sins consigning certain sinners to the fiery lake. Is cowardliness really on par with vileness? murder? sexual immorality? idolatry? When I think cowardly, I think of the harmless lion in The Wizard of Oz, not burning sulfur. This gave me pause.
I am a convicted coward. I do not doubt my salvation or my place by Jesus' side in heaven, but cowardliness is a signature trait of my writing.Why is it so hard for me
to write this blog compared to writing a work of fiction or a
promotional piece for a pharmaceutical company? I was especially struck by my tendency to call my cowardliness by more innocuous or even virtuous names. Usually, it's "self consciousness" or "shyness". Sometimes, I smugly call it "modesty" or "humility". Oh, I'm not going to tell people about my cancer blog -- It wouldn't be modest to share the link. That would be self-promotion. Or pride. No, I'll just share it if someone specifically asks me about it. However, if I truly feel called to write, then writing is not an act of self-promotion but a calling. Right?
I am convicted to explore my motives and tendencies in prayer, to set them at God's feet and ask Him to blow away the chaff and leave me pure motives in keeping with His will. I will pray for boldness, the courage wield my pen without hesitation, to promote my Savior and His Kingdom, whether though my own experiences or through fiction or through some other means.
Whew, this is a big one! Lord, please help me. I don't even know where to start.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Friday, October 19, 2012
Day 38: Children Who Walk in Truth
3 John 1:4, I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.
Sometimes parenting feels like a crapshoot -- sometimes more crap, sometimes more shoot. I know several parents of strong faith whose children grew wayward as they hit their teen years. Some were outwardly rebellious but others hid behind a pious facade. I think of the pressures facing teens, the siren song of the party peers, and I think what a limited time our family has before we reach that stage.
Of course, parenting is not a crapshoot. My child's every move is within God's realm. But I often find myself fearful -- am I missing an opportunity that will make a difference in their lives? Are my own insufficiencies and sins obscuring the passing along of my beliefs or making me appear hypocritical instead of a sinner in desperate need of grace?
I look at Huckle, who regular sighs on Sunday mornings. "Mom, church is sooo boring." Am I stifling his faith? Should we be doing something differently? How should I respond? (Lord, give me wisdom.)
I look at Sally, who still freezes up when asked to pray aloud and does not show any curiosity about the faith. Is her heart hard, or is she just introspective? Should I sit tight and simply wait for her faith to grow? (Lord, give me wisdom.)
On friends' advice, we no longer make our children take turns praying aloud. Instead, we model prayer and a prayerful approach to life. This is working for Sally. Huckle still likes to take a turn (especially since his prayers are often shorter than Mom's, especially when he's hungry) but also likes to listen. And then I hear with pleasure his new prayers picking up phrases and concepts I used. Joy! My son is listening even if it sometimes seems as if his body never stops moving.
A few nights ago, we somehow finished our bedtime chapter of The Wizard of Oz early, giving Sally a bonus 20 minutes before bedtime. This is practically unheard of -- usually we're running late and Mom is frazzled because YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE IN BED 20 MINUTES AGO AND LOOK AT THIS MESSY ROOM! Sally and I looked at each other incredulously. Where did this extra time come from? How should she spend it? "I know!," Sally said. "I'll do my devotions." And she picked up her little pink Bible, a devotion book that has been collecting dust on her floor for a few months, and a book of children's prayers, bought in an earlier, failed attempt to give her words to pray aloud. And, without my prompting -- and almost without remembering my goodnight kiss -- Sally set to work, spending her extra 20 minutes with God. Joy! Great joy!
I pray that my children hold fast to their faith and continue to grow in wisdom and truth.
Lord, my precious children are in your hands. Please hold them tight and never let them go.
Sometimes parenting feels like a crapshoot -- sometimes more crap, sometimes more shoot. I know several parents of strong faith whose children grew wayward as they hit their teen years. Some were outwardly rebellious but others hid behind a pious facade. I think of the pressures facing teens, the siren song of the party peers, and I think what a limited time our family has before we reach that stage.
Of course, parenting is not a crapshoot. My child's every move is within God's realm. But I often find myself fearful -- am I missing an opportunity that will make a difference in their lives? Are my own insufficiencies and sins obscuring the passing along of my beliefs or making me appear hypocritical instead of a sinner in desperate need of grace?
I look at Huckle, who regular sighs on Sunday mornings. "Mom, church is sooo boring." Am I stifling his faith? Should we be doing something differently? How should I respond? (Lord, give me wisdom.)
I look at Sally, who still freezes up when asked to pray aloud and does not show any curiosity about the faith. Is her heart hard, or is she just introspective? Should I sit tight and simply wait for her faith to grow? (Lord, give me wisdom.)
On friends' advice, we no longer make our children take turns praying aloud. Instead, we model prayer and a prayerful approach to life. This is working for Sally. Huckle still likes to take a turn (especially since his prayers are often shorter than Mom's, especially when he's hungry) but also likes to listen. And then I hear with pleasure his new prayers picking up phrases and concepts I used. Joy! My son is listening even if it sometimes seems as if his body never stops moving.
A few nights ago, we somehow finished our bedtime chapter of The Wizard of Oz early, giving Sally a bonus 20 minutes before bedtime. This is practically unheard of -- usually we're running late and Mom is frazzled because YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE IN BED 20 MINUTES AGO AND LOOK AT THIS MESSY ROOM! Sally and I looked at each other incredulously. Where did this extra time come from? How should she spend it? "I know!," Sally said. "I'll do my devotions." And she picked up her little pink Bible, a devotion book that has been collecting dust on her floor for a few months, and a book of children's prayers, bought in an earlier, failed attempt to give her words to pray aloud. And, without my prompting -- and almost without remembering my goodnight kiss -- Sally set to work, spending her extra 20 minutes with God. Joy! Great joy!
I pray that my children hold fast to their faith and continue to grow in wisdom and truth.
Lord, my precious children are in your hands. Please hold them tight and never let them go.
Day 37: Unexpected Blessings
Yesterday was a day of unexpected blessings from my son Huckle.
First, as I was driving down a traffic-clogged interstate on my way to a morning Bible study, my car was passed by a minivan making a strangely muffled yelling sound. I looked over and there was Huckle waving madly and trying to yell through the closed window, on his way to a class field trip. I had just been praying, as I passed his school 10 minutes earlier, for his safety -- how fun to see an answer to prayer in action! (And what a blessing that my son hasn't hit an age when seeing Mom in public is humiliating!)
Then, when the kids came home from school, Huckle had very little homework (due to the field trip). That's a big blessing -- his homework trowels a thick layer stress onto our afternoons and evenings. Huckle loves ALL his afterschool activities and has an hour of homework every night. That combination means Mom must practically sit on him to see that all is done before bedtime. Not pleasant. For any of us. Especially with Husband out of town many weekday nights -- I'm the one and only Bad Cop in this here town.
With no homework and a Mom moratorium of after-school activities for the night, Huckle was at his most pleasant and creative. Gadget-loving Huckle had had his eye on an electronic engraving tool in the basement given to us by a gadget-loving friend who moved away. So we pulled it out and set to work writing our names on the kids' stainless steel water bottles and then decorating old boards. Using an electronic tool + creating = one busy, happy boy practically floating with enthusiasm. Then -- I hope you other moms are sitting down --10-year-old Huckle REORGANIZED A KITCHEN CABINET. Is that not strange?? But he loved it and did a great job. Funny (and encouraging) that, on a night off, he would choose to work for me, that slave-driver who is always nagging him to work, work, work.
Needless to say, this experience has me rethinking his busy schedule and wondering how we can have a Happy Huckle every evening...
First, as I was driving down a traffic-clogged interstate on my way to a morning Bible study, my car was passed by a minivan making a strangely muffled yelling sound. I looked over and there was Huckle waving madly and trying to yell through the closed window, on his way to a class field trip. I had just been praying, as I passed his school 10 minutes earlier, for his safety -- how fun to see an answer to prayer in action! (And what a blessing that my son hasn't hit an age when seeing Mom in public is humiliating!)
Then, when the kids came home from school, Huckle had very little homework (due to the field trip). That's a big blessing -- his homework trowels a thick layer stress onto our afternoons and evenings. Huckle loves ALL his afterschool activities and has an hour of homework every night. That combination means Mom must practically sit on him to see that all is done before bedtime. Not pleasant. For any of us. Especially with Husband out of town many weekday nights -- I'm the one and only Bad Cop in this here town.
With no homework and a Mom moratorium of after-school activities for the night, Huckle was at his most pleasant and creative. Gadget-loving Huckle had had his eye on an electronic engraving tool in the basement given to us by a gadget-loving friend who moved away. So we pulled it out and set to work writing our names on the kids' stainless steel water bottles and then decorating old boards. Using an electronic tool + creating = one busy, happy boy practically floating with enthusiasm. Then -- I hope you other moms are sitting down --10-year-old Huckle REORGANIZED A KITCHEN CABINET. Is that not strange?? But he loved it and did a great job. Funny (and encouraging) that, on a night off, he would choose to work for me, that slave-driver who is always nagging him to work, work, work.
Needless to say, this experience has me rethinking his busy schedule and wondering how we can have a Happy Huckle every evening...
Monday, October 15, 2012
Day 36: Cloudsourcing
Husband now backs up my computer files via "cloudsourcing." Here's the definition of cloudsourcing, in case you aren't a techno-geek:
But never mind the actual definition of cloudsourcing -- what I really like is the word. It's probably a play on "crowdsourcing," which I do understand: outsourcing a task to the undefined public rather than specific people (eg, paid employees). [Appropriately enough, that definition is based on an entry from Wikipedia, a crowdsourced encyclopedia.]
I also love analogies, and I think the words "crowdsourcing" and "cloudsourcing" make a great one.
Question: Would you rather have your joy crowdsourced or cloudsourced?
Crowdsourced means your joy is dependent on people, that undefined public. If your happiness comes from other people's good opinion of you or from the pleasures of friends and family, then your joy will be incomplete. I'm constantly guilty of focusing on this. For example, I struggle with caring too much about other people's good opinion. I shamefully admit this: I worry about making a good impression on strangers in the grocery store. I waste time wondering how they perceive me. Do I come across as intelligent? Kind? Beautiful? What will they think when they see 4 cartons of ice cream in my cart? Do I look as stylish as that lady over there? Why, oh why didn't I change out of these ratty yoga pants before running out to buy fruit?? It ruins my day when someone honks their horn at me while driving. I get defensive. I don't like to be considered in the wrong, even if I didn't do anything wrong.
Crowdsourcing joy is ridiculous, when you really think about it. We people are fickle and imperfect and selfish and -- well -- mortal. Even if you add together every person you love -- parents, friends, spouse, children -- this crowd cannot provide unending joy. They make mistakes. They have their own interests. They need to sleep.
You know where I'm going with cloudsourcing, you clever person you! I need to cloudsource my joy. I need to shoot my needs heavenward; I need to make God my focus. That sort of joy is unending and overflowing, like a sky full of clouds heavy with rain. When my joy is in Christ, then all those little bits of me can rain down on others as blessings, turning upward-facing joy into outward-facing joy.
How does the Bible suggest one makes one's "joy complete"? It's more than just loving God. It's living in unity with one another in God's love.
Philippians 2:1-4, Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves...
John 15:10-12, If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.
I strive to go into that grocery store unconcerned about what others think of me, because I'm content and full-up in the Lord so that His joy overflows out of me and blesses all those shoppers in line behind me. Even the one wondering how someone could allow 4 cartons of ice cream in her home.
Cloudsourcing is a process by which specialized cloud products and services and their deployment and maintenance is outsourced to and provided by one or more cloud service providers.All the mystery is cleared up now, right? Your metaphorical clouds have parted and all that? Nope, I don't get it either. I also don't understand how cloudsourcing could be more secure than leaving my files quietly stewing in my private computer. Doesn't it sound as if my precious writings and all those photos of my kids are being chopped into bits and thrown into the stratosphere? I imagine a few of my words and a picture of my cat's left ear falling in someone's backyard next time it rains. However, it's good to be current, to keep up with security measures as identity thieves and hackers grow more bold and clever. I suppose keeping files only on a personal computer is the modern equivalent to keeping one's money under the mattress.
But never mind the actual definition of cloudsourcing -- what I really like is the word. It's probably a play on "crowdsourcing," which I do understand: outsourcing a task to the undefined public rather than specific people (eg, paid employees). [Appropriately enough, that definition is based on an entry from Wikipedia, a crowdsourced encyclopedia.]
I also love analogies, and I think the words "crowdsourcing" and "cloudsourcing" make a great one.
Question: Would you rather have your joy crowdsourced or cloudsourced?
Crowdsourced means your joy is dependent on people, that undefined public. If your happiness comes from other people's good opinion of you or from the pleasures of friends and family, then your joy will be incomplete. I'm constantly guilty of focusing on this. For example, I struggle with caring too much about other people's good opinion. I shamefully admit this: I worry about making a good impression on strangers in the grocery store. I waste time wondering how they perceive me. Do I come across as intelligent? Kind? Beautiful? What will they think when they see 4 cartons of ice cream in my cart? Do I look as stylish as that lady over there? Why, oh why didn't I change out of these ratty yoga pants before running out to buy fruit?? It ruins my day when someone honks their horn at me while driving. I get defensive. I don't like to be considered in the wrong, even if I didn't do anything wrong.
Crowdsourcing joy is ridiculous, when you really think about it. We people are fickle and imperfect and selfish and -- well -- mortal. Even if you add together every person you love -- parents, friends, spouse, children -- this crowd cannot provide unending joy. They make mistakes. They have their own interests. They need to sleep.
You know where I'm going with cloudsourcing, you clever person you! I need to cloudsource my joy. I need to shoot my needs heavenward; I need to make God my focus. That sort of joy is unending and overflowing, like a sky full of clouds heavy with rain. When my joy is in Christ, then all those little bits of me can rain down on others as blessings, turning upward-facing joy into outward-facing joy.
How does the Bible suggest one makes one's "joy complete"? It's more than just loving God. It's living in unity with one another in God's love.
Philippians 2:1-4, Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves...
John 15:10-12, If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.
I strive to go into that grocery store unconcerned about what others think of me, because I'm content and full-up in the Lord so that His joy overflows out of me and blesses all those shoppers in line behind me. Even the one wondering how someone could allow 4 cartons of ice cream in her home.
Monday, October 01, 2012
Day 35: Anniversaries
October and November are, for me, a minefield of reminders of difficult times. For example:
Here's the thing: I cannot forget, but it doesn't still hurt.
- October is the month my first baby would have been born if he hadn't died in utero during pregnancy. I will never forget the pain of losing my first child.
- October is the month my first-born son spent 10 days in the NICU with a rare infant botulism infection. I will never forget the terror of seeing my 4-month-old baby helpless, paralyzed, covered with tubes and hooked to monitors.
- November is the month my ob/gyn found a lump that turned out to be breast cancer.
Here's the thing: I cannot forget, but it doesn't still hurt.
- I no longer feel acute pain from losing a child. I remember clearly the moments of learning my child had died, of waking from the D&C procedure with feelings of profound emptiness and loss, the months of crying and waiting for my body to recover. I hurt and mourn with those who suffer a miscarriage, but my scar no longer hurts when I touch it. I look forward: before me stands a joyful meeting in heaven and an eternity together -- all my children. I look backward: behind me stands a young couple facing their first major trial together -- a practice run for the full-on heart-intensiveness of parenting. I see the kind people who ministered to us. I know the healing joy of birthing my first-born the following year, the fierce mother-love of holding a precious baby-treasure, never to be taken for granted.
God provides. - I no longer feel terror over the botulism infection and the near loss of my first born four months after that healing birth. I remember clearly the frightening trip to the ER as our baby struggled to breathe and weakened quickly, the terror in the hospital as test after test was run to determine the correct diagnosis, the sight of my baby in a big hospital bed only eating and breathing and surviving through the workings of machines, the warnings that my child might face physical and mental challenges. But I look at my son now: Huckle is tall and strong, a 10-year-old of integrity and wit, strong-willed and intelligent. I look forward to seeing the man he will become, God willing. I look back and see the hospital staff and facilities that more than met our needs -- we never even saw a bill. Although infant botulism is rare, this hospital had seen it before and knew to test for it. Our son came through unscathed.
God provides - I no longer consider myself a cancer patient. I made it through surgeries and chemotherapy and came out scarred but more aware that my body is a tent, not a permanent dwelling. I cannot find inner strength in health or self, no matter what our self-help culture suggests. I look forward to my permanent, heavenly home and my permanent, heavenly body and an eternity with the God who loves faithfully and fully. I look back and see the friends and family who ministered to me and the strength I drew from God.
God provides.
- He is not a Precious Moments god, cute and starry-eyed and weak and whoops-you-dropped-your-ice-cream-cone-but-I-love-you-anyway.
- He is a kind and sympathetic friend who sits beside me and holds my hand and loves me. But He's much, much more.
- God is a warrior -- huge and terrifying and awesome and fierce. He fights on my behalf, ever vigilant, ever in control. He always prevails. What joy that I am on the winning side! And so I will, as written in I Timothy 6:12, "Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses."
- Finally, I have learned firsthand that God is a "compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness" (Psalm 86:15). What a joy to be the recipient of such goodness, to try to mimic my Father in this world and to be with Him in the next.
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