it takes all types

if you are in jackson where it's reportedly 30° f, please enjoy that for us, because it's closer to 36°c here.

yet somehow, the airlines have discovered how to recreate the arctic inside their giant flying tubes, so i made excellent use of the fuzzy blanket i stashed away. best $6 i've ever spent. 

and though they seriously need to lay off the air conditioning, the entertainment and food were far better than i expected. 

bunny trail: my non-conversational travel companion acted like she didn't know much english, but somehow has enough of a handle on the language to seemingly enjoy and pay attention to a documentary (?) on.... carpet. the history of a very small carpet company, and their innovative carpets with special carpet fibers and a thrilling board meeting synopsis. i can't even. the entertainment value here came from watching her watching this, of her own volition, for a very long time. 

we have eaten, we have showered, we have now come back from the church where we organized all 13+ bags of supplies. the real fun starts tomorrow! we will spend the majority of the day at the church which is hosting its big ole' event. we've got reading glasses, we've got physical therapists demonstrating stretches, we've got blood pressures and blood sugar checks, we've got hair cutting, face painting and story telling, and flip flops out the wazoo! but first and foremost, there is the gospel, given 1 - 1 (or 1- 5), to every person who comes. church members will be present, helping, hosting, greeting, being that crucial connecting point between an outsider and the church.

ways 2 praise:

* it does a heart good to see old friends again. it's been 5 or 6 years since i've been in brasil, but there was much joy in greeting tony gray and rodrigo and his family again. 

* all the bags came!! this is not something i ever take for granted 

ways 2 pray:

* the day of evangelism and ministry/clinics tomorrow is expected to have a big turnout. this is a fabulous opportunity for locals to come to the church, hear the gospel, and meet church members. if you have never been to church before, it's super intimidating even if you *do* go with a friend. pray for these connections to form, for non believers to feel the love of Jesus, and want to come back!

* pray we all hold up okay in this boiling heat 🥵 and do our roles well tomorrow (and every day). we have a diverse team joining with bethesda; Jesus knows why each one of us is here and who we are each supposed to interact with. pray we remain faithful and obedient throughout the whole trip

lala flies again!

#didntseethiscoming , but i'm in brasil again! 

Less than 2 months ago i was approached with an opportunity to return to brasil on our church's annual mission trip, due to unforseen conflicts for another team member. As God still has us "on hold" regarding longer-term mission plans, i smiled sweetly and said i'd talk to nik... and then forgot to for a week. When i admitted i'd love to, but had some things i'd need God to solve, He did.  

Turns out there were at least 4 people praying like crazy for this to work out. [if you were wondering, i was not one of those people.] i knew that if God wanted this to happen, He'd open the right doors. i needed this to be His desire.

ways to pray:

*bethesda baptist church, for which fbcj built a chapel for last year, as we join them for a week to boost their ministry and encourage their members

*each of us 13 members, as God works in us, and through us, for His glory and our good.

ways to praise: 

*i was given this unlooked-for opportunity, and was able to meet a need (something about the banker really praying for someone else to run the blood pressure/glucose clinic...)

*we have made it to janauba! after about a billion hours of travel spread over a day and a half, we are here (and considering the circumstances, I'd say we smell and look pretty good!)

**update** we have made it to the hotel, and now have access to showers 🤣😂🤣

one foot on the Truth, the other on a banana peel

 i've never been a roller coaster person, despite my desire to be.

some time in my early teens, i went with some friends to a roller coaster park, and one girl i liked hanging out with was willing to go with me on the smallest, least dramatic roller coaster available to "ease into" the fun. there are only a few things i remember about it:

1. it was called "the mousetrap."

2. it was unreassuringly creaky and clanky, and (in my opinion) unnecessarily jerky and whiplash-y.

3. as i was envisioning a future of paralysis from neck injury, my friend was sitting next to me as comfortably as if she were on a sofa… reciting a few Psalms that she had memorized for just such an occasion. it was stunning, amusing, shocking… annoying… amazing, really.

i'm finishing a 5-part series about martin luther on a newfound history podcast, and one of the more interesting aspects is that the hosts are atheists. ikr?!? overall, they give a better description of the reformation than I feared, although they've kept strictly to only one of the 5 "solas:" sola scriptura ("only scripture").  in total, they are: sola fida, sola gratia, solus Christus, sola scriptura, soli Deo gloria. in meaning, they state that salvation is through faith alone, by grace alone, in Christ alone, as in the Scripture alone, for God's glory alone.

bunny trail: back when such a thing was possible, my mom majored in latin. she knows all the reasons for sola vs. soli vs solus, and had she lived in martin luther's time, i bet his Bible translation would have been finished even earlier and perfectly proofread. i have zero talent for language, except american english. i don't even do english-english, because sorry-not-sorry we won that war, king george.

the one "sola" they've stuck with makes sense, because it's really the only "tangible" concept there that you could expect an atheist to explain. in addition, the Scriptures contain the others for the most part, so i can give them partial credit without difficulty.

i believe they are mistaken on some aspects of the story, like some (most of) of his motives, and the reason for his resolve is never explored. which is bonkers, when you go a mile in luther's crocs and think through the implications of what this lonely until-then obscure guy did and said. leaving out the "why" is a major logical "whoopsie."

then they take that logical slippery slope like an unhitched roller coaster car. 

down a greased track. 

in a lightning storm.

somehow- couldn't tell ya how- but somehow, they wind up at the conclusion that martin luther- the guy who set off the protestant reformation and basically changed the trajectory of a major branch of Christianity- that martin luther!!- is just like one of those liberal "pro-palestine" protesters. yup. they said that.

bunny trail: i hate political bunny trails, but i really thought they'd hold out longer. key difference between them and martin luther? luther actually accomplished something- but that's just my limited analysis.

the podcasters, being the religious-roller-coaster daredevils they are, [cut the brake line and whip around a hairpin turn and] declare martin luther is a radical who cast off the oppressive regulations of the religious authorities so he could "live his truth." they [fly down that deconstruction track as they disengage all safety mechanisms and] hypothesize that atheism is the natural conclusion to the protestant reformation, because if luther could trash everything the catholic church produced except the Bible, why not chuck that, too? luther was "living his truth," and so should we! 

[**gruuuchkkkniunckkngkkkngkngkngk**  that's the sound of the roller coaster car veering around a corner and shooting off the track's end, grinding to a halt in a pile of twisted, sparking metal. the podcasters go airborne, floating through the atmosphere on their own fanciful theories. they haven't yet landed.]

luther was not "living his truth." he had read the Bible and discovered The Truth. "I AM the Way, the Truth, and the Life," Jesus said (john 14:6). martin poured over the Bible from beginning to end, laboring meticulously to wring out the meaning of words like "grace" and "propitiation" and "faith." he knew somewhere in that mountain of church writings, doctrines, and practices lay the answers he so desperately needed. after digging through the top layers of grass and dirt, sand and loose gravel, he hit the bedrock. finally, a place he could stand, a place that could support the tremendous weight of the gospel of Jesus Christ. this gospel is the pearl of great price. the buried treasure the rich man sells his entire estate for in order to buy the otherwise useless field. for him, and for luther, this was worth e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g.  his job, his reputation, his friends, his family, his time, his strength, his every heartbeat.

any faith you build on dirt or sand won't stand up to more than 2 puffs and a huff from the big bad wolf.

but on a layer of bedrock? you couldn't have a harder, more solid foundation under you. "on this rock I will build My Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it" (matt 16:18, emphasis added). "this rock" is understood within protestantism to refer to the gospel, peter's confession that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of the Living God.

that's what luther realized. "i cannot and will not recant anything, for to go against conscience is neither right nor safe. here i stand- i can do no other. so help me, God."

this, after encountering the Truth about God's holy wrath intersected by His redeeming grace.

this, in response to his religious and political authorities, who had consolidated power and turned faith into a spiritual one-a-day tablet ["available for a price. discounts applied at register. one indulgence per customer per confession. may not be combined with any other relic sale or promotion"].

bunny trail: so. many. questions. about those indulgences. what was the return policy? what if you bought one for someone who'd already gotten one the previous year from a different relative? what did you do with it? how long did they take to work? what if it got lost or destroyed?

this, knowing his life was at stake.

this, knowing he'd be accused of disrespect, heresy, offensiveness, stupidity, recklessness, and who knows what else.

there are some things in which, in all practicality, it is impossible to *not* take a stand on. to say you are *not taking a stand* is in itself taking a stand. standing on very shaky dirt and sand, but still.

the gospel of Jesus Christ is one of those things. the Bible containing that gospel is thus necessarily one of those things.  either it's true, or it's not. the very second you add or subtract to the Bible and its gospel, you are just strapping yourself into another roller coaster cart behind my atheist buddies. yeah, that one- with no lap bar and the bent axle. good luck.

another quote i found, also attributed to martin luther, is this: "the truth of the matter is rather as Christ says: 'he who is not with me is against Me.' He does not say, 'he who is not with Me is not against Me either, but merely neutral.' " i've visited multiple churches in the past while that are trying (unsuccessfully) to find that gray area of both sound doctrine and societal acceptance. they're trying the podcaster's idea of discarding the Bible, and they will wind up in the same place- nowhere. or rather, nowhere good.

i've been blessed not only by much more theologically sound podcasts, but mostly by multiple returns to the sacred refuge of that glorious gospel. no matter who or what tries to offer me a watered-down version, i can't take it. every manner of spiritual and political authority is making power-grabs all over the freaking place, now trying to offer up a politically correct, utterly inoffensive, store-brand religious one-a-day.

i don't have all the answers; neither did good ole doc luther. but we have far more than enough to give me confidence in the holy, inerrant, Word of God. i stand firmly in the gospel of Jesus Christ. i believe His words. i trust His promises. He is the propitiation for my sins, and i trust Him fully for my salvation and have the Holy Spirit as a "guarantee of the inheritance" in heaven until the day i get there. this gospel is "old-fashioned." it is "weird" and apparently, "on the wrong side of history." it is most definitely not "cool." but it's true, and I'm staking my entire eternity on that simple fact.

bunny trail: when did history start having "sides"? and where is the edge, or corner, or fold? who makes that decision? seriously!

this, because i've encountered the Truth in an undeniable, unavoidable way. i had the smallest possible glimpse of my sin from the Truth's perspective, and then nearly drowned in the flood of that same Truth's redeeming grace. that encounter is one the reality of which i simply cannot deny or avoid, and it demands that i respond accordingly.

this, knowing i'll be (or have already been) accused of disrespect, heresy, offensiveness, stupidity, all manner of phobias and "anti-"s, and i don't know what else.

what i do know is that however many loop-de-loops and twists this roller coaster of life blasts me through, there's an absolutely safe ending: standing before the heavenly throne, praising my Savior and God without restraint and without end. 

"there is one gospel on which i stand 

for all eternity.

it is my story, my Father's plan:

the Son has rescued me.

oh what a gospel, oh what a peace,

my highest joy and my deepest need!

now and forever He is my light;

i stand in the gospel of Jesus Christ.

there is one gospel to which i cling.

all else i count as loss.

for there, where justice and mercy meet,

He saved me on the cross.

no more i boast in what i can bring,

no more i carry the weight of sin.

for He has brought me from death to life;

i stand in the gospel of Jesus Christ.

there is one gospel where hope is found;

the empty tomb still speaks.

for death could not keep my Savior down,

He lives, and i am free!

now on my Savior i fix my eyes,

my life is His and His hope is mine.

for He has promised i, too, will rise;

i stand in the gospel of Jesus Christ.

and in this gospel the Church is one,

we do not walk alone.

we have His Spirit as we press on

to lead us safely home.

and when in glory still i will sing

of this old story that rescued me.

praise to my Savior, the King of Life,

i stand in the gospel of Jesus Christ."

 

"there is one gospel," words and music by jonny robinson and rich thompson

return to sender

rather than wearing something old, new, borrowed and blue for my wedding, i took the opportunity to write a letter of appreciation to each of my old, new, borrowed and blue families, each named after its representative subset. my "old" family is my church family, being represented by a group of folks i lovingly refer to as "my old people." these hoary-headed church members are simply a delight to be around, and i always look forward to sharing their company around a table for wednesday night dinners. in exchange, they shared their joy, their stories, their wisdom, their encouragement, their experience- in short, it was not a fair trade by any means. they were totally ripped off.

at some point in the past year-ish (?) our church began a more intentional push to return some blessing to our elder members, especially those who are home-bound, sick, or living alone, by setting out cards, envelopes, and a list of their names so that we could write them notes of encouragement. if we learned anything in 2020, it was how soul-deadening that level of isolation can be (and also to wash your filthy disgusting hands, but that's another soapbox… ).

anyway, i know personally several of those names, and recognized several others, so i grabbed a members list and a pile of cards, used the excuse to buy cool new pens, and i began my "experiment."  i'd try to write a set number each week, and as soon as i heard anyone was calling the church to inquire about what weirdo was stalking them with random cards, i'd stop- or at least sign someone else's name (JK!  jk….)

bunny trail: this is what enneagram 5s do. we call new ventures "experiments" so that if it turns out to be a colossal failure we don't have to blame ourselves.

it was awkward at first. because seriously, who does this anymore? what do i say to someone i haven't seen in person for months, or more, or who is decades older, who i don't have much in common with? like, "hey, how are you- i just spent an hour cleaning crayon off every surface in the living room." i doubted anyone would care very much. but maybe they'd still like to remember what it was like to chase toddlers around, or look up the Bible verse i stuck in there, or smile at the animal stamp i stuck in the corner (i just had to. these stamps are too darn cute to not be put on absolutely everything i can).

but then something weird happened. a lady i'd never, ever spoken directly to found me one sunday and said a teary-eyed thank you. the next wednesday 2 women that i did know quite well said the same- one had a mother who received a card; the second was a widow who happened to get her card around the same time of year her husband died. a 94-year old hobbled down the long children's wing to find me, tell me some of her life story and give me a hug. (and then another elderly fellow said how much he appreciated the christmas card, because now he knew who the heck had been writing these cards, so it worked!)

but then something else happened. i got an email from the church secretary saying she didn't send one of the cards because the recipient had just passed away.

and its happened twice more. my "old people" leaving me before i was quite ready to say goodbye- i'd barely said hello to one of them. i was reminded of one of my memory verses, hebrews 12:1- "since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witness…" that cloud is a bit larger now, and heavy with their love, joy, and faithfulness. ms. clara- she was the first to write a letter of congratulations after my engagement, from her nursing home, no less. she had absolutely pure white hair, enabling her to wear NEON shirts and look AWESOME. mr. lynn- he came every week by the college students' pew, asking each of us if we were staying around after graduation. he was ecstatic when he found out i was. his wife, ms pat- she is getting a card this week. she sang in the choir, and smiled big enough for the entire soprano section. ms. janice took the plunge and joined facebook, tracking and commenting on my posts faithfully until covid called her heavenward. mr morris, ms sandy, ms mollie… ms pat is the only one here i can still write to.

and then this week happened.

i knew it was off to a bad start when i woke up to nik asking what to do with the kiddo who wandered into the work room covered in cute baby barf and asked for mo doos? cuppeese? (more juice? cup please?).  as i flushed away my entire day's plans, i received news that someone close to me had a possibly bad medical issue, a sister had tornado watches in effect, and that i would never be able to have that video call to my grandad i was planning.

i was nowhere near as consistent with calling him as i've been with these letters. i knew that he closely followed us on facebook, and thought of him with every post i've made, but it's not the same as a two-way conversation where he can share, too. this is more of a loss than anyone who didn't know him could understand. more than 90 years old, his mind was remarkably intact and every conversation with him brought forth more memories, stories, humorous anecdotes, and thoughts.

once the barfing baby stopped, i was able to clean (eVeRyThINg) up, sit down, and breathe. since i'd already written my week's homebound letters, i've decided to write one more, even though this one won't get mailed, either.

dear grandad,

hey- how are you? i just spent a day cleaning baby barf smell off every surface in … basically the whole house. it's a good thing your great grandkid is so cute. i remember when we first told you she was on her way, and the loss i felt when two days later my monday crumbled with news of grandmother's death. i was glad for the 4-day weekend that let us travel to you for her funeral. well, what do you know? two days after hearing about how you were doing, my monday crumbled.

except not really. it shook a bit, but stayed upright. this 4-day weekend won't let me come say the "official" goodbye, but i feel like we've sent those same thoughts back and forth already. i treasure the picture of you meeting bugaboo for the first time, and the joy on both of your faces. that "hello" memory is so much better than any "goodbye" memory i could get now at your funeral.

i kinda knew. i'm bummed, but not surprised. in fact, my first instinctive reaction was, "finally" (wait before you judge me)! my second was, "i still had that one question for him."

i won't get an answer, but i may as well ask anyway. besides, i already have a couple new ones for you.

first, of course, is "how is grandmother?" i already know the first place you ran to was that heavenly throne and the One who sits upon it. there is no way for you to describe Him, which is why i'm not asking about it. the apostle john did his best, and we all see how that turned out; i doubt even as good a storyteller as you could do better. there aren't words to express the emotions you must have gone through when your faith became sight and your immortal eyes were hit with that blaze of Glory. i imagine that's where you found her. i want so badly to know how she looks and how she's been spending this first part of eternity. was she able to watch you join a heavenly music band for a song or two? did you share a laugh about ditching that walker you both used, before you ran hand in hand down some heavenly sidewalk?

tell me about your "mansion," would you? when i said goodbye to your old home last april, i remember wondering at how small it was- practically a cottage, really. in all my memories it's several times larger! i could hear in every word you spoke that the house was getting smaller and smaller to you, too. just like my "old people," i watched you live out your faith day by day, making excellent use of your time on earth, but increasingly eager to leave it. once grandmother left, no place on earth would ever be "home." that little house was practically a mansion to us- mostly because of the enormous amount of love you and grandmother cram-jammed into it, and i'm just curious what i'll see when i finally get to visit you again.

of much less importance, but still: i have GOT to hear the story behind that freakishly gigantic safety pin on your little shelf of knick-knacks. we'd talked about you telling me about each one as i asked over calls or texts… but somehow we never got around to those. i'm having one of those cliché "ah, what i wouldn't give for one more conversation" moments. i just loved basically every story you ever told (especially the medical ones), and even small or simple every day moments had shades of legend when you told them. and let's be real- a 5 inch safety pin is not an everyday item; i refuse to believe the background story is anything less than hysterical. it's my fault for not just asking ages ago.

as long as i'm asking imaginary questions in an imaginary letter, i'll toss this one in, too: ARE THERE DINOSAURS UP THERE?!? no, but really!! if there's a new heaven and a new earth, and the first one was perfect (at least for a few verses), i'm hoping the new perfect earth has them as well. and if there are dinosaurs, are there cats- cats that look like the ones we've known here? maybe only the ones we liked…. i know animals don't have souls, and there will be perfect joy and peace in heaven, Jesus is all we need… but man, having a pet dinosaur to ride in heaven would be basically the coolest thing ever.

don't judge me. okay, maybe judge me a little bit.

i've got a bunch of your day lilies planted here. there are some on each side of the house, to maximize my chances of not killing most of them. now i just need to put some kind of garden border around them, to maximize the lawn guy's chances of not killing the rest. so far, most of them grew back, even after being mowed down a few times. i'm hoping, hoping it works out, and that they will be a reminder for many, many years to come.

a reminder to ask questions, write letters, learn from and listen to the people close to us, because we are never guaranteed another day to do so.

a reminder that every day is precious and we are called to be good stewards of our time and relationships.

a reminder that beyond this life is another one, a far better one, a life where the day lilies last as long as, well, that never-ending day.

a reminder to "lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely," so i can "run the race set before [me], looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of [my] faith," to someday join my "no-longer-old people" at the finish line.

a reminder that in the midst of that "great cloud of witnesses" there is now yet another one: one i miss seeing here a little, but look forward to seeing again a lot. once i spend a few thousand years with Jesus, i'm gonna take my pet dino for a walk past your mansion and we'll have eternity to catch up.

tell grandmother i say "hello." 

learning to help, helping to learn

my child is The Worst Helper in the World. she's my favorite helper hands down, but also just the worst. for most chores or household tasks, i would suggest asking assistance of almost any other human being, and possibly a few woodland animals, before asking her. at least, if your goal was to have that chore or task completed in a neat, timely, and organized manner. we knew the likely outcome of our short time volunteering at the local food pantry and thrift store, but we also knew that we have been called to serve others and not wait 18 years and so she would have to come along- and we wanted to bring her. thus, we all bundled into the car last saturday morning, put on our "volunteer" lanyards, and were put to work stocking the thrift store side with shopping carts loaded with hygiene items, scarves, and kitchen appliances, and also getting stuff price tagged in the warehouse side. for the first 15 minutes she sat in a cart and played with some hats and soap bars. that was beautiful. the rest of the time i helped nik for 20 seconds at a time in between chasing her down, feeding her, and watching her wander the aisles to smile and wave at other volunteers.

 

but, as you know, finding yourself responsible for keeping a small person safe, happy and healthy takes all your everythings and turns them wonky. so this new reality is to be expected, and hopefully enjoyed as much as possible. it usually involves a lot of *not crying over spilled [any container's contents. any of them- all- will get dumped]* and focusing on finding the humor in any unforeseen mishap short of blatant sin. for instance, when i check the temp of the shower water and discover that my small person has stockpiled 2 months' worth of toilet paper behind the curtain before her nap, well. there's not much else to do except be glad it's not still on national back-order like 3 years ago.

 

so now my goal is much less often to do *anything* in a neat, timely and organized manner. if you know anything at all about the whole enneagram concept, you will recognize that for a 5, this is … a "growing opportunity." (read: "she is often annoyed to the point of seizure-like spasms.") but grow i must, because i've got a small person following me- literally and metaphorically.

 

this does not mean that my goal is to do things in a haphazard, sloppy, time-consuming way. it does mean that my goal now has nothing to do with time or neatness. my goal is to teach this small person behind me- and not just how to do tasks like cleaning, cooking, weeding, grocery shopping. that's relatively easy. but teaching how to be kind, honest, loving, joyful, patient? quite a different story.

 

and that's mostly because small people learn 'doing' and 'having' by example, and showcasing my kindness, honesty, service, joy and patience gets really difficult on days when i'm running on fumes and don't have much to display. teaching kindness means i have to be kind, even/especially when she can only answer questions by shrieking or smiling, or when she hides my hairbrush in a basket of tea bags in kentucky, or defiantly rejects her juice sippy cup in favor of a jar of dirt. teaching honesty means i have to be honest, even/especially when it's a billion times easier to dodge the truth, like when i make a mistake and have to admit it (and yes, even if she's not talking yet, it is indeed much harder to apologize in front of her). teaching service often means serving with her there, even/especially when it's inconvenient, awkward, "dirty," time-wasting, or possibly "risky." she did absolutely nothing of tangible value at the food pantry/thrift store. in fact, she cut our productivity by at least 45%.

 

bunny trail: no, i am not saying a toddler comes with me absolutely everywhere. but she came with us to RiFA and waved hi to several other volunteers and customers, and she comes on most visits to neighbors and friends, regardless of their race, gender, living situation or socioeconomic status. just because there 'might be risks' on the other side of town does not let me exclude her from "helping" us serve at the homeless food pantry.

 

we decided months ago that there are some things that we want her to have ingrained in her by the time her brain is actually creating memories. we do not want her to learn her abc's before she has at least an inkling of the value of ministry. we would be thrilled if she never knew a life that did not include sacrificial giving or meeting needs of others whenever possible (not 'convenient.'). we are probably less "useful" to God than bugaboo is to us, but as we learn love and service by following Him, we are tasked with leading her in that direction also. the spiritual fruit He grows in us is far more valuable than any paycheck, donation, or tax return.

 

our secondary desire is that as she follows and learns great qualities like patience, joy, honesty and all that good stuff, she also happens to learn how to actually be a help rather than the delightful force of chaos that she is now. and when the time comes that she notices a calling towards a particular area of service, i hope that i then respond by encouraging her to use her gifts to their fullest extent- again, even if it is inconvenient to me. so she sits on the vacuum head when i clean, she pokes and swats flowers when i weed, she puts all of her clean, folded laundry in her ball pit, and simply can't handle having any sandwich bag left behind in the cabinet. every day is another 500 or so chances to live out both the character traits and physical tasks we desire her to take in and cultivate. as she learns to help me, i help her to learn. it's not an even swap- not by a long shot. but since it's the way God taught, i know it's far better for both of us.

 

so i'll help her learn (hopefully). and she'll learn to help (hopefully).  and God's math means that He can take my significantly decreased productivity levels and do wonders, as bugaboo follows me following Him, day by day, chore by chore, step by step.

the wonder

 there are some things you "know."

and then there are things that you know.

and things that you "know" that you don't know yet, but will.

 

quintessential example: parenthood

it's no duh that suddenly having a new tiny person in the household changes everything. absolutely everything. there is zero percent of your life that is untouched by this status change. now, I "knew" this before march.

but then march came, and with it, the wonder that is called parenthood. that's when I knew. 

 

comparison: remember that one time senator walsh put her foot in her mouth and implied that nurses sit around and play cards all day? yeah. the myriad memes that arose from that comment caused millions of people to chuckle who knew that nurses also probably do work sometimes, but brought an uproar of bellowing laughter from nurses because they knew what they spent their shift doing. 

 

I'm on the second side of all the parenting memes now. can't say I don't enjoy it though. it's not only been encouraging, but also enlightening. and also a little embarrassing. I've heard a billion times (because it's true) that your kid will reveal to you all kinds of things you didn't know about yourself. what I didn't hear is that this unfortunate behavior starts MUCH earlier than I thought, like by 6 months. can't walk, can't talk, can't feed or dress herself, but lil' bugaboo is now thoroughly convinced that there is no book, toy, song, food, or animal that compares to the flat, black rectangle I carry around with me. I know this is only the beginning, but that definitely shamed me into spending less time on my phone when she is around. 

 

more positively, I have also regained a sense of simple wonder. how would I define "wonder"? well, now I would describe wonder as everything expressed by a baby encountering grass for the first time. she could not take her eyes off the long green blades all around her. she held her hands in front of her and kept running them through those tiny leaves, so fascinated that she was oblivious to me, even as I was holding her. and it was grass- GRASS, for pete's sake! but it's incredible to watch, because it gives me an excuse to get down on her level- literally- and be excited about things like spoons, flower petals, bath water splashes, and toes. 

 

at some point she's going to get all mature and boring and just walk on through the fallen leaves without slowing down. it might be another 30 years before she remembers how cool grass is. 

 

I'm guessing that it will get harder every year, but there are some things I don't ever want her to lose her wonder at- christmas, for example. how incredible is it: an omnipotent Deity who is larger than time, confines Himself to a human body. He reduces Himself to the humblest of all persons and spends His first night in a box full of goat food, because Airbnb wasn't a thing yet. (even if it had been, joseph wasn't made of denarii. he ain't affording all those charges!!) the sky over sheep-filled fields exploded with heavenly beings who sent a pile of shepherds- humans created in the image of God- to gaze in wonder at God, who had just been born in the image of man. God made good on His ancient promise to deliver humanity from the soul-crushing weight of sin.

 

we grow up "knowing" about life on this world, until we come to know true Life that continues in heaven for eternity. God, Who knows everything, chose to limit Himself for a time to "knowing," experiencing in a physical body things like scraped knees, stomach bugs, wrestling matches with brothers, hugs from a mother, family vacations, homework, splinters, bullies… 

 

I want this kid of mine to only grow more amazed at this miracle. the look of quiet, happy awe that she had when she saw her fake little christmas tree is the look I want her to give to Jesus when she comes to know Him. and I want that to be soon. I want her to only "know" things I came to know in my circuitous route to Him. 

 

dear bugaboo, that promise God made to adam and eve just after the first screw-up has been fulfilled, so that His second promise to you could come true as well. that's why we celebrate christmas. look at those twinkle lights on that fake little tree and know that the True Light is here to draw you to Himself. open the presents and remember that the eternal Presence is with you, just for the asking. so ask, that you may receive! keep your wonder- feed it, care for it, and let it grow unrestrained at this marvel. 

 

know about christmas, know Christ, and celebrate accordingly, with the same joy as the angels. 

 

 

glory in mediocrity

naps are simply wasted on babies.

they don't like them; they don't use them. and worst of all, there is no way for them to give them to their parents, who would truly appreciate even a 30-minute nap and pay the infant's weight in gold for the ability to redeem a ruined naptime.

 

while mourning the loss of my ability to take a nap when i want, this strange fact of reality has meant that i have also had to develop what i only know to call "glory in the mediocrity." glory meaning that just as plants glorify God by growing, planets glorify Him by spinning through the empty void of space a million miles an hour, and cats glorify Him by running into walls (ours, anyway), so i glorify God by weeding the garden.

 

ha ha- you know that's a bald-faced lie. i weeded half the garden. and by "weeded" i mean, "i at least removed half of the weeds visible from space."

 

if it's not too bold of me to say, i glorified Him by using those 14 minutes as best i could, and yesterday that meant weeding. and He multiplied my minutes x2, because by some fluke the lil boss accidentally slept for about 28 minutes instead of her usual 9.

 

it is not even close to the best half-done-weeding job. i was tempted to leave some of those plants because they clearly wanted to be in the garden waaaay more than i did. one of them was simply massive, and even had some lame-o blue flowers to try to fit in with the flower bush i actually wanted there. to be honest, i was tempted to leave every last one of the weeds there, because i knew i wouldn't have time to do it all- giving me the perfect excuse to wait until i had 3 hours (which would be never). but at least as far as the garden goes, God didn't want me to do the whole thing- but He wanted me to do something.

 

this 3-month old reality of mine means i will probably never do anything at all again without at least 4 interruptions. in fact, she herself WAS a major life interruption. even a bathroom trip requires more strategy than it would at work on a 13-hour shift. the idea of a complete nap or a bubble bath or reading a complete chapter of a book is laughable. my drawing will possibly be done when bugaboo is school-age, at this rate. as will her baby book.  and because we are gluttons for self-inflicted punishment, we are about to take this cute little life interruption on a several-hundred-mile-long road trip. i can't wait to see how this goes.

 

but it will go. not sure how well, but it will go. we are going to try to do however much or little we can with each day He gives us. He's not looking for perfection; that's His job. He's looking for those who trust and obey, who go step by step in faith. for those who point to our mediocre flower garden like a toddler holding up a crayon picture to show his parents, knowing that they will stick it to their fridge and treasure it- not because it's beautiful (because it is not. objectively, there is less value in the picture than a fresh sheet of paper has), but because they treasure the one who did it.

 

so far, i have found zero parables in which the one Jesus finds favor with is perfect. prodigal son? nope. not by a long shot. but he did finally come home. "son #2"? nope. but he did finally go and do the work he said he wouldn't bother doing. good samaritan? he probably could have done more… but he was the one who did something.  the latest group of vineyard workers? they only worked for, like, an hour.  but they did work that hour.

 

none of these say Jesus thinks laziness is a virtue. but they do say He thinks it glorifies Him when we do what we can, when we can, for Him. not sure when He wants me to work on the other half of the garden (maybe before the first half is overgrown again?), but i do know when He wants me to take care of lil' miss interruption, and when to focus on Him, and when to rejoice in every tiny nap He provides.