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. 

 

confessions of a horrible "southern housewife"

 it's that time of year again: yep, the beginning. 

 

new year resolutions are a common conversation starter, self-help and diet books fly off shelves, and [dozens of] gyms see a brief spike in attendance. the joy and charity of the christmas season come to a screeching halt, to be replaced by a period of intense frustration, busy-ness and criticism that is somehow spun as a good thing. the "acceptable" standards of beauty, wealth, education, fashion, health, politics- you name it- are literally broadcast across the nation by which each individual "should" judge themselves. if it's a thing you "should" have, it'll be on sale. if it's a belief you should have, the book is released this week. if you "need" to change or do anything, you will see commercials, ads, billboards and people you know telling you just how far you are "behind the Joneses." we, as a collective, have become trained to find every deficiency in ourselves possible, and somehow choose only the worst 2 or 3 to "fix" in a calendar year. and we all do this, each knowing in the back of his mind that there's a slim chance any true change will occur; we will be the same messed up "failures" in december that we are in january (and don't you dare ask a friend how their resolutions are coming any point after valentine's day at the latest).

 

i've seen more than enough hgtv shows to know that i do not, nor ever will, meet anyone's standards for a stereotypical "southern" housewife. i know there's a pretty high chance i could work my way up to that level, were it demanded of me, but it would take ages, and i would *not* be fit for society with how tired and bitter i would have become.

i also know that my application to Southern Housewife School would be laughed at if a gpa were replaced with dusting frequency or a pot roast recipe. dust bunnies? let's try dust giraffes or dust mastodons. it's been on my to-do list for such a long time that i don't even write it down anymore, because i know myself too well.

and that's just one standard i "fail" to live up to. i haven't even gotten to the standards for beauty, savings account, car model, political knowledge, citizenship, or marriage. i can now add parenting standards to the list, in case i wasn't tempted to feel bad enough about who i am.

 

so what's a person to do?!? well, there's good news and bad news. 

the good news is that the answer is crazy-easy.   

the bad news is that the answer is so easy it's nearly impossible.

to sum up in an easy-to-remember way: "make like a tree and leaf."  yup. that's it. be like a tree. a little tree- a vine, even.

 

to explain:

 

i had a friend who went through a period of substantial change in her life- physically, financially, mentally. it was excellent for her. near the end of that period, i saw her reading a self-help book; it was apparently not as good as the last one she'd read that left her similarly disappointed and un-self-helped. so i referred her to one of my own favorite "self-help" books, and to one small section in particular.

 

this particular small section tells the anecdote of another single-ish woman who is very familiar with every new year's resolution-er.  she knows because she has failed at…. dern near everything by this point, truly. her life sucks. she's lonely, she can't keep a relationship, is not flush with cash, and meets nobody's standards of anything ever.

as she is running an errand one hot day, she meets a stranger hanging out who is oddly conversational.

 

stranger: hey- wanna sit and have a drink with Me?

her: sure- let's talk about religion and politics and let me go about my day.

stranger: I'd rather talk about all of your failed new year resolutions and how exhausted you are by your life that's as worn out as your shoes. clearly, promising yourself to "exercise more" every year is not working, and you can't even get a decent guy to date.

her: … no but really, religion and politics is way less embarrassing. and why would you remind me of those resolutions? it's april...

stranger: but what if I told you that I could fix every last one of those "failures" and make your tattered life look and feel more like brand-new and never-ending, and that all you had to do was ask me?

her: keep talking….

(refer to John 4)

 

you have to read a couple more chapters before this stranger spills more of His secret to a few other unpopular societal embarrassments. what is the secret? "make like a vine and leaf."

He even says, "you are a vine. act like it."

(refer to John 15)

 

what does a vine do? well, not much.  it's attached to the ground, so it can't travel to the gym or organic food section in kroger. it's attached to its little fence or trellis so it can't maneuver toward the sunshine, flash its expensive new gadget in your face, or flex muscles to squeeze out its little grapes or berries.  it might be able to compare itself to other vines nearby, but whatever standards of height, branch length, leaf green-ness, fruit size or hydration levels this poor vine does/doesn't meet… there's zilch it can do about it. this vine is utterly dependent on God- for everything.

the vine just… is. the roots go down, the vine goes up, and the leaves go out.

 

am i saying that we shouldn’t care about anything? nope. 

or that we ignore to-do lists and familial or societal responsibilities? not at all. 

do we never consider our lives and if there are adjustments or maybe even radical changes we should make? no.

 

but what i am saying is that those changes shouldn't be in response to comparing ourselves to others, or others' ideas of what our own lives should look like. if we make changes, they should be toward the True Vine's example.  the standards we are judged by are those of the Vinedresser- *not* the other vines. those standards are related to the fruit each vine produces.  and we all know that a vine can't even decide to do that- it's up to the Vinedresser to make sure each vine gets enough water and sunshine and space and nutrients.

as soon as we recognize our utter inability to "fix" ourselves, we realize that we have been given the freedom to… live. we live and grow as best we can with the circumstances God places us in, and then…. we live.

 

the stranger, who is Jesus (surprise!) tells that poor, exhausted, lonely, sinful woman that her only requirement is to ask. if she asks Him to provide, renew, change, sanctify her life, He will. that's literally all He tells her.and it's all He tell us. when we look to Him, and say, "fix it... i just can't," He does!

it takes longer than 12 months, but it also lasts a hekuvalot longer than the 3 weeks i foresee my gym 's parking lot being so full.

 

it is also heaps less depressing.

because i know already that me and my sanity don't and can't survive the scrutiny of the multitudes of excellent proper southern housewives. i admire their abilities- to the point of envy, sometimes. but i also know that my Vinedresser has given me other standards and conditions. He saw fit to bring a baby into this household with dust monsters on the ceiling fans and crazy cats on the floors. He provided our budget and house and neighborhood and diets and health situations, and He wants us to use those as best we can. He's super not-concerned with how we would handle anyone else's life, or how they would handle ours. and if He's not worrying about it, neither should we.

 

if we abide ('live") in Him, He will make sure that we bear fruit that meets all of His standards- no self-contempt necessary!

 

make this the year you stop the self-flagellation and grow in God's sunshine- let Him grow some amazing, eternal changes in your life.  replace the dreary weariness with a peace that surpasses understanding, and praise the God who loves us complete failures so much that He "fixes" us into His own glorious image. now that's something I can celebrate every year!

"mary, did you kn-" yes. she did.

 a few weeks ago i was finally able to see my bestie again, for the first time in an embarrassingly long time. as in, long enough to grow half a person. i think it was near the beginning of our 7.5 hour-long lunch date that she asked me what hopes and dreams nik and i had for that unexpected half-a-person. if the kid ever reads this, i hope she takes this the right way, because i said i really had no idea at all. partly because i don't do well with open-ended questions like that. partly because even that many weeks later i had not fully recovered from the reality of the situation, which turns out to not have been medically impossible.

 

bunny trail: this is now the second time a doctor has looked at my face and told it that the current situation was medically impossible, with a second doctor affirming. not sure what to do with that, but…

 

i'm guessing mary might have recognized the feelings, at least somewhat. she had a few more weeks' head's up notice than me, but that wouldn't have really helped her out much. her situation being even more assuredly impossible than mine, i don't envy her that conversation with her parents. i hope that maybe an angel was on hand then, too. even if nazareth was as busy and diverse as some texts state, as soon as she started showing she became "that girl" to every "good" jew in the area. roman rule claimed sole authority over capital punishment (the penalty for adultery under the mosaic law), but nothing said a radical bunch of jews couldn't arrange an accident to avoid a public scandal, or at least disown her and chuck her to the curb. it's doubtful anyone sat down with her and asked all about her hopes and dreams for the future.  and if by chance she did get to chat, the conversation probs didn't last much past, "oh yeah- He's gonna save the world from sin and His Father is God in heaven. an angel said so."

 

that's a shame, because she would have had -quite literally- the best answer in the universe to that question, and she didn't even have to come up with it on the fly. the song "mary did you know?" must be rhetorical, because she did know. even if she was unaware of a number of particulars, she got the gist of it. and the gist was delivered to her in person, straight from the mouth of a heavenly angel. the words of that gist carried her through several months of tiredness, sickness, heartburn, mocking, tears, loneliness, and hurt. oh yes, and moving in with her new husband who nearly ended their engagement over this "impossibility." so, no pressure, girl. i can't do much more than imagine, but every kick and somersault she felt probably reminded her of those words, equally stunning and reassuring.

 

i'm twice the age she was, and every bit as unprepared. i am under no delusion that i have even a fraction of this under control. bugaboo will probably be at least 2 before she realizes she's not a cat like her older "siblings," and stops trying to lick them clean, drink from their water fountain or chew on the houseplants. mary didn't have to worry about things like vaccine schedules or each year's new car seat regulations. but she did have to worry about being the earthly parent to a Deity (and then at least 6 of the Deity's siblings…).  *gives the District 12 salute*

 

this little bugaboo has developed her own daily routine which includes a morning and evening round of calisthenics and at least one period of wind sprints and tai kwon do. as of 8 days ago, these high kicks are now visible.  nik is hoping for a future soccer player, and from all appearances, his wish has been granted.

yeah, it's a lot easier when the pressure's off us. it's not like bugaboo is gonna turn the world on its ear and change the entire course of humanity.

 

dear bugaboo, nope, i don't have any promises or guarantees. no messages from shining angelic messengers. no legends or portents or prophecies. but this advent season as i watch our charlie brown christmas tree twinkle, crinkle, and wither away before my eyes, here are a couple hopes and dreams for your future:

 

i hope you grow up always hearing more and more about this other completely unexpected baby and who He grew up to be.

 

i hope you come to understand what He did and why He did it. i hope you understand it in such a deep and personal way that you are knocked to your knees before Him in praise and awe.

 

i hope you don't hate me for not being whatever kind of saint that mary is pictured as being, because i for sure am not, and i want to prepare you for the all-but-inevitable possibility that i will screw up at least as much as she did, and then some.

 

i hope you grow in stature, in wisdom, and in favor with God and man.

 

i hope that even when your earthly parents royally screw up, we still direct your heart toward your heavenly Father, who has never, ever screwed up, and in His divine wisdom put you under our care for a time.

 

i hope that once you start walking, wherever your very (very) active and kick-y feet take you, people there sense the presence of the One who gave you to us, that we pray dwells in you forever.

 

i hope that once you start talking, your mouth is full of praise and that you communicate daily with your Creator God.

 

i hope that once you start school, you hang out with normal people, lonely people, "ugly" people, simple people- all kinds of people- and help them to know and feel that they are loved, by you but especially by Jesus.

 

i hope that each year as you break ornaments higher and higher on the christmas tree, the meaning of advent becomes a bit more real and true for you. 

 

merry christmas, bugaboo

a good and faithful servant

 

apparently i have too much time on my hands, because i really did just google search how many 'world’s best grandmother' mugs are sold each year. turns out google doesn't know everything, or at least it doesn't hang on to irrelevant data like that. so i didn't get an answer, but i do know that more than 1 grandmother has that mug of status, and that mine did not. i can only conclude that all of the mugs are lying to their owners.

i know that the majority of grandmothers are indeed wonderful women who have played a crucial role in the lives of their families. far be it from me to scorn anyone who has achieved the rank of "Grandmother." however, it’s not only the things she did, but the traits of hers that they demonstrate, that serve as evidence of her enduring greatness.

 

she was reliable, diligent, strong - she did whatever needed to be done. returning from a toy story trip during one of her new york visits, we found ourselves locked out. at least as it goes in my memory, without missing a beat or batting an eye, she took a rock and broke the window to reach through and unlock the door. the title "Grandmother" reached new levels of awe. i was sick in a hospital outside NYC on "the" 9/11. every eye in the country was glued to the nearest tv- except mine when Grandmother walked into my room for her pre-arranged visit, right when she said she'd be there, with a gift in hand. she had family members she felt called to minister to, and nobody was going to shut down the subways until she reached her destination. i don't ever remember getting a birthday or valentine's day card late- including 2008, which was the year my alma mater was flattened by an F4 tornado. i stayed in town for the extra 2-week break and grabbed the few envelopes from my mailbox on the way out of the main building, not recognizing that it was valentine's day. i looked up and saw a backhoe depositing a dorm's remains into a giant dumpster, and looked down to see Grandmother's card in my hand. with all the thanksgiving dinners and church suppers she's pulled off, i shouldn't have been surprised.  

 

she was protective, loyal- she drew her boundaries, and woe betide the soul that trespassed onto her territory. her family was solidly under that protective banner; whoever dared to mess with one of her grandkids would live to regret it, and probably apologize for it as well. during the aforementioned hospital visit, there were at least two instances where a doctor or technician forgot their place. luckily for them, Grandmother was right there, ready and willing to point them in the right direction. she saw a need of mine and became my advocate to make sure that need was met. then she got some pound cake from the hospital cafeteria for us to share. it tasted like victory. if terrorists and tornadoes can't divert her plans, i'm not sure why a mere radiologist would expect to stand a chance.

 

she was generous, self-sacrificial, unassuming- the things that came out of that sewing room are legendary (or at least they should be). it's not like i ever heard people singing her praise in the streets, but every time we visited i'd hear another story of someone she helped, encouraged, or gave a handmade gift to. i don't know how many dolls she sewed dresses for, but i do know of at least a dozen barbies that boasted a very full wardrobe, including indian costumes, colonial garb, wedding dresses, play clothes, and at least one very yellow one-piece pantsuit outfit i couldn't ever figure out the purpose for. the indian and colonial clothes came with life-size duplicates for me and my sister to wear. i wish i knew her final fabric yardage count, or how many miles of thread she turned into blessings for other people.

 anya and i spent hours by the christmas tree one year, performing every test possible without actually picking up the matching boxes- wondering if they could possibly contain the american girl dolls we'd asked for. they did.

at least once every school year, in addition to birthdays and holidays, we'd get a big old box from richmond.  we'd find outfits, or books and toys relating to our school studies, or bags of candy we could all share each night the next potty-training kid had a successful day.

 

she was practical, humble, faithful- even in her generosity, she didn't waste things like time, little moments, socks. visits with her included experiences like my first plane ride, my first train ride, after-dinner bingo competitions with lifesavers as prizes, feeding the geese at the park (back before everybody learned just how bad bread is for them…oops.), and watching disney movies before bed. she'd rescue our favorite pants by making cute little patches out of unmatched socks to cover the holes. she made us eat our cottage cheese by serving it with fruit, but we knew there was always dessert. she made us go to bed at a halfway decent hour, but sometimes we could sleep downstairs under the dining table (back before the time i woke up once and saw the scariest face of all history that is carved into that chair in the living room; no offense to the chair or its maker, but it's downright creepy). she knew wax paper was just what you needed to make gumdrop cookies. she also knew wax paper was perfect for making kids go airborne as they shoot off the huge metal slide at the playground (back before everybody realized kids were fragile and helpless and eliminated all the good playground equipment). she made time for us, and she didn't waste it. every little interaction has the opportunity to be a positive or negative experience. she did her best to make them all positive.

 

it's because of a life like this- filled to the brim with an active multi-faceted love- that Grandmother earns a spot among the elite. if she's not the best, she at least ranks with the finalists. i won't know til i get there what she's doing up in heaven now, but i can't help but assume her life up there is only a fuller and brighter expression of these, and many other, qualities that composed her life down here. i'm convinced she's up there making sure the whole Second Coming celebration goes without a hitch. every saint's robe is going to fit perfectly- maybe trimmed with ribbon… or a sock…- and every course of the feast will be worth another song of praise to the Savior she served daily. and it's a life i want to emulate- one deserving of the highest compliment a human could dream of: "well done, good and faithful servant. you have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. enter into the joy of your Master."

downfall of the cults

 

one of the first decisions nik and i made together was to make a conscious effort in changing our entertainment values- both how much time we spent on, and the actual content of, what we would watch. it was helpful for me, because i knew i spent too much time with some tv show or other running in the background while i did housework or crafts and such.  i enjoyed having the sound of conversation in the house, and so i got used to listening to netflix shows even when i wasn't actively watching them. nik pointed out to me on a few occasions how much time the tv spent being on, and the conviction cut deep- rightly so.

this decision we made was also helpful because it gave me that extra motivation to lean into my nerdiness and see that list of documentaries on my watchlist.

bunny trail: so far, my favorite was the docuseries about the black plague and how it helped shape society- and how society actually affected how, when, and where the plague spread. i may have watched half of it twice.

 

in addition to stuff in the science and history worlds, i have a fascination with cults- how they formed, how they veered off the path of truth, how to have intelligent conversations with those in a cult, etc. turns out there's a fair amount of audio and visual learning freely available.

bunny trail: feel free to give me any suggestions of random, good, clean, podcast/video/shows on anything cool.

 

my new series is brought to us by netflix, and is entitled "leah remini: scientology and the aftermath." to say the least, it is eye-opening. every episode reveals yet another "woah" moment where scandal after scandal has been covered up, families broken apart, lives ruined, local and federal officials manipulated, non-scientologists targeted and children taken from parents and brainwashed and abused for years. and this is if even only half of it is true.

don't even get me started on the whole "xenu the alien god" thing.

 

bunny trail: ask me about the whole "xenu the alien god" thing. woah.

 

not only has dear leah remini displayed sooooo much that the scientologists would love to keep hidden for always and eternity, but amazon also recommended a kindle read for me, which of course, i read, about another well-known cult: mormonism. 

 

this book was an autobiography of a barely-15-year-old child who becomes the (6th) sister-wife of a major leader of the mormon branch that relocated to mexico in order to continue their practice of polygamy. "favorite wife: escape from polygamy" was so interesting i could barely put it down and interrupted nik's work multiple times to tell him new developments in the story. it was exciting, sad, weird, personal- so many things all at once.

quick history lesson: after joseph smith had a revelation that started mormonism, he engaged in polygamy and then stated he'd had a revelation from God revealing that polygamy is awesome. after they all moved to the utah territory to escape persecution, they continued polygamy until the US government made outlawing polygamy a condition for making utah a state.  then joseph had another revelation from God revealing that polygamy is no longer awesome. but he forgot to edit that verse out of their book of doctrines, he kept having contradictory revelations, and then he died, so i guess we will never know how God really feels about having dozens of wives.

 

i both love learning about these cults and hate seeing how many ways there are to distort the truth and lead people astray. it doesn't take much to turn a soul-saving message into a soul-sucking one.

 

my main podcast resource (for cults, anyway), is Cultish, where 2 christian friends interview others who have come out of these erroneous belief systems.  they find many of the same issues with the jehovah's witness cult as leah does with scientology, and in a hypothetical question to her, they ask the crucial question: what have you freed them  to ?

 

coming out of something bad doesn't really do much, if it lands you in something only slightly less bad. this isn't one of those "mostly dead is slightly alive" kind of things, even with chocolate-coated pills. a faith is either true, or it is not true. leah can pull folks out of scientology all she wants, but then she drops them into a spiritual landscape of barren wilderness. dropping your phone into a full bathtub might be mentally easier than into a toilet, but in the end it doesn't matter because your phone is still KO'd.

 

the answer to that all-important question posed by "cultish" is both obvious and mysterious. it is easy and extremely difficult. it can save your life in one sense, but could also kill you in another.

 

those who have come to Jesus with a background of cults are fighters- truly. years of hardcore intentional brainwashing and indoctrination are seemingly impossible to put down and walk away from.

but some did. and it's because they found that answer- a tool, a weapon, really. 

a cult's worst nightmare.

it's called the Truth.

 

i got a vague sense of something in "favorite wife", and got super excited when i discovered i was right.

this 20-year old girl, after suffering 5 years of use, abuse, neglect, and more under the authority of the elected "preacher" (her husband), the "prophet" (her brother-in-law), and the "super-sleazy evil, creepy, lying, murderous scumbag" (her other brother-in-law), she is confronted with an idea from another disgruntled mormon: don't just blindly follow what you're told when your eternal soul is at stake; find the truth for yourself.

 

she took that idea and ran with it. and for an under-educated woman with no human to help with her theological dilemma, she caught on pretty quickly.

 

guess. what.

all she did was pick up a Bible and start reading.

 

if her husband hadn't been busy with his mission work and 9 other wives and 40+ children, maybe he would have noticed and made her stop.

the funny thing is, she didn't even get very far before she realized something was seriously wrong (with mormonism). she found a seed of truth in a verse that I NEVER would have referred anyone to. the seed sprouted and grew. it took a couple years, but the fruit of her search was worthwhile. at the risk of her safety and that of her 5 children, she left the whole community (while they excommunicated her; in essence, it was a mutual ditching), moved back to the states- and kept reading the Bible. she finds the Way, the Truth and the Life, and plays a part in the salvation of several of her old sister-wives and many of their children. chains busted, prisoners freed, gates of hell slammed shut, eyes opened, souls saved- all because she picked up a Bible and started reading.

 

i go through phases where daily quiet time is not very "daily." i've been reading through Ezra, and lemme tell you it is not a thriller tale. i alternate between that and my Bible memory verses, which is good because Bible memory is good, but also kinda bad because it's partly to avoid Ezra, even though i am almost to the end. even by typing this out the guilt is rising.

 

i know i underestimate the value of the Bible. i have a glimpse of its full worth in my head, but acting on that knowledge is a regular struggle. even for someone who loves books as much as i do.

but the Bible is so much more than just a book. it's satan's kryptonite. it's hubbard's worst enemy. it's mormonism's antidote. it's a formidable weapon that God put in our hands, and that many of us shove onto our shelves and forget about. we accept whatever the man behind the pulpit says, regardless of whether he's speaking from the Bible or maybe just holding one closed in his hand- then we slip back into a spiritual coma for another week.

 

sometimes you just need to see what life is like under the corrupted version before you can recognize and fall in love with the Truth all over again. that might be another underlying reason i have this odd fascination. the more i hear of these distortions, the more i tighten my hold on what i know to be true.  i can still remember what my life was like before i could clearly see what the first apostles did; it was not to the same extreme, but i recognized the look in the eyes of leah remini's friends- grief, shame, loss, fear, hopelessness. most of that is because leah only brings these friends halfway. out of one cult, into another: the cult of "find your own truth," "you do you," "love is love is love," etc. what has she freed them to? what CAN anyone free them TO? the answer to this cult is the same as the answer to all the others, and indeed, to all the false religions.

 

the answer is the Truth, and His name is Jesus.

only the Truth can truly liberate one from the slavery of a cult to the wide-open freedom of Christ.

the Truth can only be found in Him. and He chose to reveal that Truth about Himself in a book, which He describes as a sword. Jesus knows the strength of the falsehoods that surround us. Jesus also knows the power of the Truth, because He IS the Truth. it's His people who forget that the Bible IS the revelation of the Truth- of God Himself!- so that by using this "sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God" we are really letting the Spirit work through us to bring the salvation of the Son with all the power and authority of God the Father in heaven. if we remembered this, we would never neglect the Bible like we do.

 

the time is now to unsheathe the Sword and join the war against falsehood. read Ephesians 6 and you'll see that we have been called up for active duty and given all the unlimited resources of heaven itself, to bring emancipation to those enslaved to sin and to help bring about the downfall of the cults. we will not see the complete end of them until the second coming of Jesus but under His banner we wage this war "against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places" emboldened by the confidence of ultimate victory. 

 

so grab your (spiritual) fighting gear and come with me as we follow the LORD of hosts!!!

… as soon as I finish Ezra…

still waiting... what a surprise!

 

i was never much into all the personality tests like myers-briggs and such- until i was introduced a few years ago to the enneagram. it's a little too true, and scary accurate. i'm a 5w6, and that means i don't much like surprises, unless it's during a period when surprises could be expected to occur, such as a holiday or birthday. i'm such a 5 that i don't let the computer put my solitaire cards up automatically, so that i can put the suits up in the "right" order myself. there's a chance i have a problem.

(bunny trail: i have just now- at this moment- realized i've never told nik that, and i can already hear him laughing in the future if he reads this. nik, stop it!!)

 

so i guess you can tell what 2020 has done to my mental constitution.

 

back when we were upset over being separated for easter, our naïve little selves were thinking fondly of gathering instead for summer vacation or the fourth of july, or labor day… or halloween… or thanksgiving… and now christmas.  nik and i moved from a quaran-dating relationship to a quarangagement one, to a quaran-wedding-planning one (which is a total blast; i highly recommend that whole experience as a character development activity). on top of a stupid germ playing cat's cradle with every relationship in the world, we checked facebook with growing trepidation not knowing what new potential disaster was wreaking havoc with what country or state. in a cruel twist of irony, the year that americans re-learned just how important teachers and nurses are was the year that national teacher's week  and national nurse's week were basically overlooked by the nation, because the nation was locked up at home and not looking at anyone else, just in case covid19 was spread by vision. murder hornets, hurricanes, a continent on fire, whatever the heck was happening in the sahara, tigers and kings and carol-didn’t-do-it, not to mention the most abnormal presidential election in our history as a country. the good news is that all politicians still lie, so at least we can hold on to that.

 

but we've been waiting for so long to return to "normal" that our past normal is basically gone. nobody is going to think about a hug or handshake the same way again. even if everyone were vaccinated tomorrow, this cure the world has been awaiting can't undo what the virus has done. there is no social strata unmarked by covid, not a single hour of media output that doesn't include it, no family or business or organization that hasn't had to adapt.

 

i heard this song (again) this holiday season on one of my christmas music cds in my car. i hit repeat twice because each time the words hit a little deeper. 

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zF952rzG3Yk

  

[on the high probability that the link doesn't work.... go to youtube and listen to "how many kings" by downhere].

seriously- just listen to the words and then actually consider them.

most jews around 3 bc would sniff their noses at our "problems" and rant about theirs. they didn't even get elections! or netflix! or vaccines! or toilet paper! well, actually, they could really empathize with some of us on that. oh- and lying politicians.

they waited.

for centuries.

they waited so long, a lot of them had actually forgotten what it was they were supposed to be waiting for.

they were waiting for a King. a Savior. the Anointed One.

 

and then He came. but it was so out of the blue that absolutely nobody would have known about it for decades without heavenly messengers bursting into the physical realm to scare the pants off some shepherds and declare the news themselves.

a King? just born… now? lying in a what now?!?

yup. a manger. a feed box. probs has cows nudging Him with their big noses. that's the One you've been hearing about for 400 years- ha ha! you thought He'd never come, didn't you? surprise!!

(bunny trail: when did pants become a "thing"?)

 

i don't fully get why non-religious people celebrate christmas at all. there's no conceivable reason that is grounded in anything solid. i also don't get why non-christians celebrate christmas. who cares about a baby born 2000 years ago? the only reason we celebrate is because this baby was special. this baby was a King, a Savior, the Anointed One. completely, utterly unexpected- but still predicted by prophets ages beforehand. tiny, dependent, unspectacular- but still with unimaginable destiny.

this little One would spend the next 33 years or so surprising everyone He came in contact with. there was not a single part of daily life He couldn't affect, not many conversation topics He would avoid, no social circle He wouldn't join if invited.

 

on this side of history, we make light of the christmas story, and think how silly that whole generation was for not recognizing Jesus for who He was. back then? back then, every year was a potential 2020, with droughts, famines, wind storms, poverty, diseases galore and not a single cure for anything, and of course, lying politicians who also murdered people on a fairly regular basis. their newsfeeds weren't any more encouraging than ours.

 

maybe we should do what the shepherds did, and just marvel.

imagine heaven- go ahead.  the lights, the beauty, the brightness, the angels, the joy, the absolute perfection of everything in sight.

now imagine voluntarily walking right back out of the pearly gates and trading that perfection for… 2020, covid and all. yeah… nopety nope nope.

 

that's what Jesus did.

 

the King Who spent eternity in glory left His throne behind, to be confined to a place in time and space, entering a limited dimension- for us.

the Lord Who created galaxies with angels singing in the background, crafted a perfect planet for us humans stepped into His own creation now marred by sin- for us.

the God Who adapts reality with a word let Himself be mocked, scorned, abused, beaten, harassed, tortured, and murdered- for us. He poured out His very lifeblood for the sake of the very same ones who spilled it.

 

no other religion or philosophy even has a category for that kind of event. why?

because it makes zero sense. it's more than a surprise, it's insanity! the extent to which God went, in order to let us back into His holy presence is mind-blowing. every other faith (or non-faith) has a code, a ruler, a list of minimum expectations, that its followers have to know, follow, do, measure up to, in order to enter paradise (or its equivalent).  there are no surprises (at least, not here on earth) because the people know the extent to which they have to go.  

 

our God - the One True God- walked that entire distance for us. His path goes the whole way from heaven straight through to satan's front door. the way to God had been given to the jews so that they could take that message to the world. instead they hoarded it, hid it, forgot it, and finally rejected it. Jesus came to clear the way again. His arrival on the scene sent shock waves through the ancient world. why? because they were thinking the same words of the song, just different.  no real King would step down from a throne for humans. no real Lord would abandon the heavens for us. no "greats" would consider taking a human body.

no real God would pour out His heart to romance a world that is torn all apart.

no real God could do that for…. me… could He?

would a heavenly Father send His Son to this sinful world, knowing that His earthly life would end on a cross, after hours of incredible physical, emotional, and spiritual torture and agony? how could a Deity undo the horrific mess of sin that truly was pandemic- affecting every part of the natural world.

 

this One did.

 

because that's what it took to bridge the infinite gulf between sinners and God. and God was the only One who could go that far.

that's why non-religious people still celebrate christmas on some level. because inside they are asking the same questions as the ancients, not knowing that the answers are all, "yes." we celebrate because we know that "yes"- we know that God has done what no other god could do, that He went farther than a sinful human could go, and that even if everyone else has gotten tired of waiting and hoping, that's okay.  the waiting is over! the Savior is already here!

that's why all christians now are the heralds of truth- we declare that the Messiah ("Anointed One") has come "once to bear the sins of many, and that He will come a second time, not to deal with sin but to save those who are eagerly waiting for Him" (Heb 9:28).

 

so yes, christians are waiting… again…

but this time we wait knowing the end of this story- we don't have to worry about surprises there (but before that, probs a lot of them)! the timing will be a surprise, but not the ultimate outcome. so we wait eagerly this time- expectantly, hopefully, joyfully. whatever plagues and pandemics and politicians happen between now and then, we celebrate with the angels the One we've been waiting for. 

 

merry christmas, everybody :) 

the old, the new, the borrowed and blue

one of the most fascinating things about life is the variety of relationships that spring from it. the idea of belonging originates with God’s relationship to man at creation before growing increasingly complex and beautiful. God institutes the marriage covenant between Adam and Eve who, together with their children, form the first family in Genesis. while the word “family” has persisted in language to refer to a group of people related by marriage and/or genetics, the pages of the Bible actually show a huge broadening of meaning.

 

united by genetics and marriage, Adam and Eve form the first family unit, as they are joined through God’s marriage covenant and then produce offspring. as we all have experienced, family ties are difficult to sever, no matter how far apart its members go. a “family,” with parents and children, are the basic building blocks of every society; weaken one and the other will inevitably start to crumble. even beyond dna, God has infused each family with its own unique relationships, dynamics, experiences. these give a human a sense of history, of belonging- even children brought up in an adoptive home have an innate desire to understand who their birth parents were, where they came from, how they fit into the history of both their families and the world. i think part of that is a God-given sense to find their way back to their very first Father, as He is the One who puts each of us into the earthly families that He does.

 

united by calling, we read of Levites eating celebratory meals together as they perform their duties in the Tabernacle and receive their designated portions- coworkers sharing their lives as they share the tasks - and the food!- God designated for them. a group of guys from all the different branches of a huge extended family tree, working in shifts to keep the Tabernacle in tip-top shape 24/7/365- the one single place around which the entire society literally revolved (no pressure, guys). in the New Testament, Jesus and a bizarre collection of men spend several years together doing everything a “normal” family does (even though at least one of them was married): eating the Passover together (a family/holiday event), walking, sleeping, talking, bickering, learning, growing, working, loving… all as a single, cohesive, group that becomes more close-knit than most any biological family.

 

united by faith, you see God continually inviting non-israelites into their community. several hundred years later, Paul the Apostle explains it clearly and repeatedly as many wild olive branches grafted into one cultivated olive tree. that one olive tree is the Church, and is a family that connects people from every language, nation, and people group. the family that began with a man, a woman, and their kids in Genesis becomes a family that encircles the globe in Revelation and spans every era. the 64 books in between trace the divine expansion of the word “family” and shows God’s plan unfolding to include every ethnicity. this Church family is way more incredible than we generally acknowledge, but we feel the ache inside when we go very long at all without coming together- like what we have all been feeling this year being separated from friends and family for Easter, and summer vacations, and Thanksgiving (and probs Christmas, too, now…). that's you missing your family!!

 

united by purpose, Paul the Apostle writes of his fatherly affection for Timothy who faithfully continues in their evangelistic mission. Timothy was raised in the faith by his grandmother, and we know nothing of his own parents. wherever they were, Paul takes him under his wing and basically adopts him as they travel and preach. having completed his training, Timothy is set as pastor of one of the churches he helped plant with Paul, and he is then commissioned to not "only" preach, but also to be an example of the same kind of adoptive church leader that his congregants can then model themselves after. every Christian is a member of the worldwide Church family, but within that body of believers, there are relationships that form that are so close, so foundational and formational, that this usage of "adoption" and "family" is the only language that is really appropriate, genetics be darned. i don't have much doubt at all that if Paul was anywhere near his young charge for Thanksgiving, they would be sitting side by side at Timothy's grandmother's house (because really? who else can make mashed potatoes and casseroles like a grandmother?).

 

 

To my OLD family:

 

thank you.

a friend asked me once what my favorite thing about my church was, and my immediate response was, “my old people!” my Church family is a blessing i would be lost without, and you as my “old people” represent the Church boldly. i cannot thank you all enough for the encouragement, support, prayers, wisdom and Jesus-love each of you has heaped upon me. i know it’s not politically correct to say “old,” but i have enjoyed having this church’s older generation to learn from as much as i have learning with the younger generation in the cubbies class. “gray hair is a crown of blessing,” and man, you make those crowns look good!!

you've helped me move, you've hosted me in your homes, you've done my yard work. you have fed me, you have visited me when sick, sent birthday cards, kept me sane during a hard year of studying. you reached out to me as a Union student, asking me to stay in Jackson starting sophomore year. you have openly shared your joys and griefs, your gains and losses, your struggles and victories, and how your enduring faith has brought you through it all. a few of you have even done me the honor of being my patients in the hospital ;)

you ran to the altar with open arms (and tissues and coffee) when i joined the church by baptism, you have supported me on mission trips without restraint, and you are generally a fabulous group of people that i wouldn’t trade for anything. 

 

 

To my NEW family:

eye wuvz yoo. my newest biological family- my “niephews,” you are the best things about family gatherings. i love snuggle parties on the couch, reading the same 5 books a hundred times, and seeing your artistically genius abstract crayon drawings on my fridge. i wish you could all stay small forever, but i also look forward to seeing who you grow up to be. 

to the newest family member by marriage… you already know i love you, or i wouldn’t be marrying you today. i have no idea what plan God has for our family, but there’s no one else i’d rather be with to find out.

to the soon-to-be newest family member by marriage… i’ll never think anyone is good enough for my sister, but i guess you’re pretty close. i promise to forgive you at some point for taking her all the freaking way to arizona. welcome to the clan!!

 

To my BORROWED family:

i guess this all goes to show you never know what you’ll find in a garbage dump.

what started as a “simple” mission trip turned into the beginning of a new phase of growth in my life and proof of God’s providential care, supplying for my needs at a crucial time before those needs even arose.

thank you for being a place to go when i needed safe haven, and a constant source of support and laughter. the blinged-out blanket forts, butter bread and extremely random youtube videos are just bonuses for the real treasure of having an “extra” family to be a part of. when i needed a “home” closer than 800 miles, you provided one. when i needed to know why my car was making those weird sounds, you were there. when i just needed time to mend, you opened your emotional first aid kit and got to work. when i didn’t know what i needed, you helped me get back on track. when life knocked me down, you hauled me to my feet. you made the concept of adoption a natural part of your lifestyle and i am the better for it.

 

To my BLUE family:

very few people know what we do, and even fewer people know how and why we do it. spending hours on our feet to take care of sick people large and small (and smaller) doesn’t spell “fun” for most anyone. we have accepted our unique role in society, and that we can be an odd crew- especially those of us on the night shift! i would contend that we are odd also in the way that we are such a “family”- we celebrate birthdays, weddings, births. we gather together for holidays (because we have to, but still) and weekends, and support each other through thick and thin. wedding showers, baby showers, retirement parties, holiday feasts, birthday potluck dinners, kids’ school fundraisers- all these things are like separate strings that form an uneven web where our individual lives and families intersect. not only celebrations, but we have also shared tears of loss and frustration and hurt at times- a biblical kind of love that forges relationships deeper than the word "coworker" conveys. i’m rather proud of my small collection of “work moms” who make sure to check up on me when i travel more than 0.25 miles from my house, and friends who are an endless source of knowledge and fun, as well as being able to serve our little, bitty patients alongside you. it’s an honor. i love you all!