Fainthearted

Life takes courage doesn't it?  And the older I get the more I realize that pretty much every aspect of life takes courage.  I have to be brave in my marriage, bold in my parenting, confident in my relationships, and audacious in living out the mission I am called to.

But what about the days that you crack your eyes open and feel the weariness of life in your bones and you want to pull the covers over your head and escape into sleep once again?  What about those days? The fainthearted do just that, they roll over on their side and pull the sheet up and over themselves to keep the reality of life at bay.  The ones who aren't fainthearted but aren't entirely present will take a few minutes to rise and face the day but they will eventually get on their feet.  And the ones who have determined to not let weariness win will get up and face the day with spirit.  Here's the secret about the determined, even they have weariness of life in their bones.  But the determined are unflinching in their resolve to not let weariness win over courage.  They believe that somewhere deep within themselves their courage is a greater strength than the weakness of life's realities.

I'm feeling so fainthearted these days.  My life as a parent is really weighing down my heart.  We've hit a rough season.  I confess that I feel so weary in parenting right now that all I really want to do is pull the covers over my head.  I don't want to be present and I'm not feeling all that determined.  That's the confession of my flesh.  The Spirit in me gives me the courage I need to do and say the hard things.  My bones protest as I rise but I know I have to rise.  I have a responsibility, given to me by God, to raise these children to the very best of my ability and with his strength and wisdom.  I have a responsibility to make sure they are as healthy as possible not just physically but emotionally, mentally, and spiritually as well.  And sometimes that responsibility means the hub and I have to do and say some hard things.  Things that the redheads think are unfair but things we know in the long-run are ensuring health.  Things that they might not see as protection in the moment but we know are.

In my life the weariness of this task comes when the redheads forget that we are for them and not against them.  When they slander us to their friends and we find out.  When they make choices to lie about "little" things so then we can't trust they are telling the truth with the "bigger" stuff.  When they figure out ways to subtly manipulate us and we know it.  When they disrespect us, take advantage of us, and do it in such sly and silent ways that it is almost missed.  When they hurt our feelings because parents can get, and do get, their feelings hurt too.

When I held them as newborns this wasn't part of the plan.  :)  Oh, don't think I was living some fairy tale that my children would be the ones who wouldn't rebel or be angry or have problems.  But I had hope that it would be more of the minor stuff than the major stuff.  And it is, depending on your personal definition of minor and major.  But even the minor stuff can lead to weariness.  And I am weary with anxiety over them, with sadness that trust has been broken and now we must rebuild - which is so hard to do, with confusion as to where it turned around on us, with fear that I will lose my precious babies.  I am weary with the hurt feelings and with trying to remember it isn't personal even when it feels like it is.

At some point, as my Mama pointed out the other day, "this too shall pass".  And I know that in my head but travel about 18 inches down to my heart and I'm not so sure.  At some point I won't be as fainthearted over parenting and it will shift to another area of life.  Until recently it was marriage, now it isn't.  At various times it's been with relationships, and to love others as God does, and has asked me to, is downright hard sometimes and I can too easily become fainthearted in that mission.

There is help and relief for the weariness but I keep forgetting about it.  I forget that I don't have to shoulder the burden I feel in parenting, or marriage, or relationships.  I can transfer the burden to shoulders far more capable than mine.  But I forget it too often.  And when I do remember, I struggle with how to transfer the burden and not try to shoulder some of it still.  But when I can give the burden to someone who can carry it there rushes in this amazing peace and rest and I no longer feel the need to pull the covers over my head.

"Come to Me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Put My yoke upon your shoulders—it might appear heavy at first, but it is perfectly fitted to your curves. Learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble of heart. When you are yoked to Me, your weary souls will find rest. For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light." (Matthew 11:28-30)

What has been weighing you down recently?  What tempts you to stay in bed with the covers pulled over your head these days?  Have you thought about transferring that burden to the more capable shoulders of the One who created you?  How could that change the way you feel or respond to the current cause of being fainthearted?

Let's talk about...love* baby, let's talk about you and me

Ready? Set? Answer this: 

The difference between loving someone and being in love with someone is...

I asked this question on my Facebook page a few months ago after a conversation my husband and I had. Lanny asked me, "Are you still in love with me?" I replied that I didn't think so. He took it one way and I meant it a different way.  I chewed on it for a couple of days and then put it out there for Facebook to answer.  And what I found was that there is no right or wrong answer and each person answers according to their perspective, which isn't right or wrong in this particular case.

What did I mean when I told my husband that I didn't think I was "in love" with him anymore?  I meant that I had gone way beyond those mushy, butterflies-in-the-stomach feelings that I associate with being "in love." We have been married for almost 19 years.  A lot of water has flowed under our bridge during our relationship.  Being "in love", according to my perspective, is a feeling that can come and go and is dependent on situations, circumstances, etc.  Loving someone, however, is a commitment to stay the course even when it gets tough.  And it does get tough.  Relationships take work.  When I tell my husband I love him, I am telling him that I am willing to fight for us when things are hard, and that I am willing to continue to learn how to consider him and not be self-serving.  Sometimes I am also "in love" with my husband again. But, for me, that "in love" feeling comes and goes but loving him is a constant, I choose to love him and want the best for him even when I am hurt or angry with him.  I choose to love him and be committed to our marriage even when I am wishing for the single life again.

Here's what some of my Facebook friends said about loving someone vs. being "in love":

Loving someone is a choice accompanied by actions that are fruits of that choice and being in love is a feeling...an awesome, heady, high that comes crashing down when deeply hurt or disappointed.

One you care for that person and the other you want the best for them.

Being in love is more of an initial emotion that can be based on attraction. While loving someone is a choice or decision to commit your heart to someone not based on what they are able to do for you.

Loving somebody is 1 Corinthians 13 (in a nutshell), and being in love with somebody could be that they like the idea of that person, if that makes sense.

I love my kids, but wouldn't say I'm 'in love' with them the way I would about my boyfriend. But I think more credit needs to be given to the term 'in love.' It's not something fleeting or temporary.

Loving someone is desiring and doing what is in that person's best interest. The term "in love" indicates that the opposite, being "out of love", can occur. Being in love can still be very powerful, but it is heavily based on personal feelings and emotions, which are wonderful but not always the best things to rely on.

Being in love is showing a present action. ... On going and growing ... I love my wife but more than that I am in love with her !!!!

I love a lot of people. Being "in love" makes me think of an active state of being, rather than a passive state of being.

Loving someone means you sacrifice your needs and put them first before your own.

Loving someone means sacrificing for their good, it means seeing a person through Gods eyes... Knowing their soul.... Wanting, no needing, to grow In your walk with God together.

See what I mean? It's all in perspective and not one single person who gave input is wrong. In fact, I think they are all right to one degree or another.  I sat down with my husband, who felt hurt that I wasn't "in love" with him at that moment and I shared with him my informal poll and my clarified thoughts on the topic. I reaffirmed that I do love him, even when I may be acting edgy.

Around the same time we were studying John 21 in our home church.  In verses 15-17 Jesus asks Peter three times "do you love me."  Two times, in my version, he asks "do you TRULY love me" and the third time he asks "do you love me."  My study note on this portion speculated on the difference between "truly love" and "love" which made me think about my question.  To rephrase the question I asked: What is the difference between truly love and love?  Here's what my study note suggests: "Truly love" refers to a love in which the entire personality, including the will, is involved. "Love" refers to the spontaneous natural affection or fondness in which emotion plays a more prominent role than will.

I love looking at different versions of the Bible to get a fuller picture. Here's what the Amplified Bible says about the two different loves Jesus uses to ask Peter: The first two loves used, in verse 15 and 16 the Amplified breaks down as this - with reasoning, intentional, spiritual devotion, as one loves the Father. The love used in verse 17 the Amplified breaks it down as - with a deep, instinctive, personal affection for Me, as a close friend. In the English language we limit ourselves and use one word to describe what is actually a larger and deeper emotion. In all other languages, to my knowledge, they have several definitions for the same word to really describe the emotion. So when I say I love coffee and I love my husband do I really mean I love them equally? Of course not! In any other language I would use the word love in two different forms and the underlying meaning would be known. Here in America people equate them, in part, because we don't have depth to our words and language.  Our language clings to the surface and doesn't have the layers of meaning and emotion that other languages possess. So we have to look below the surface.

I hope my husband knows that I don't love him and coffee the same.  How tragic that would be if I did.  If I look at the love I have for my husband and the love I have for coffee according to what my studies in John 21 showed me it is clear to me that I truly love my husband.  To truly love someone means you invest your whole personality, your whole self into that relationship, including your will - which requires sacrifice.  To love something or even someone means I am basing my affection on emotions, which can fluctuate and change and doesn't involve much, if any, sacrifice of self.  The investment in this kind of love is minimal whereas the investment in truly loving is at a maximum.

If Lanny asked me today, "Are you in love with me?" my answer would still be no, not really. But I would go on to say, "Babe, I truly love you." And truly loving someone trumps "in love" every time, in my opinion.



*Oh man, I got you didn't I?  For a brief moment there you thought we might be talking about sex, right? *grin* You know, the song? Oh never mind... *wink*

The Vulnerability of Feet

Recently our home church decided to invade comfort levels and wash each other's feet.  It ended up families washed each other's feet while the other families observed.  We need to take baby steps (pun intended) with this whole command.  Yep, it's a command given to us by Christ.

Frankly, it is a little unnerving to consider.  And what's weird about that is that I am all about getting a pedicure, I have no qualms about a perfect stranger touching my feet.  I don't mind my husband rubbing my feet either.  But washing them?  I start to pull back a little.  There is something oddly intimate about someone else washing my feet.  It places me in a position of vulnerability and that is very unnerving.  And as I watched other people getting their feet watched I felt vulnerable on their behalf.

What is it about feet that exposes us to others, to even ourselves?  Perhaps it is that feet are so unique, filled with personality and character.  They can be, and are, beautiful - ugly - bony - chubby - cracked - smooth - calloused - tough - sensitive - small - large - smelly.  And to expose them to someone else feels like we are exposing them to all of those things that are true of us as well.  We can be, and are, beautiful - ugly - edgy - curvy - cracked - smooth - calloused - tough - sensitive - smelly.  And we pull back when we don't want others to see and know that about us, even our spouses.

When I held my foot out to my husband I instinctively curled my toes inward as if drawing back.  It's possible I even drew my foot back a bit but he had a grasp on it by that point so he kept it over the bowl. He poured the water over it and then took the towel to dry it off.  Such intimacy.  And with others watching it made it just a tad more unnerving.  There was nervous twittering the entire time from all of us there. It's uncomfortable to take part in and observe such an intimate act.

I imagine the disciples felt similar when Jesus stripped off his outer garments, tied a towel around his waist, and knelt down on the ground at the dusty and smelly feet of the men who had followed him for the last three years.  I imagine there was nervous twittering and an insecurity at Jesus touching the rough and calloused feet.  But Peter, as usual, was the only one bold enough to speak out loud what I think all of them were thinking, "Lord, you are going to wash my feet?" Jesus answered in the affirmative and Peter, as usual, came back with, "No!  You should never wash my feet!"  Imagine telling Jesus no.  Oh wait.  We do, everyday. We tell him no everyday.  We, like Peter, lose sight of who is knelt down at our feet.  We forget the past years of learning at his feet.  We curl our figurative toes inward to draw away from the one who wants to wash us clean.  We protest with voices that tremble with insecurity and fear at being found in such a vulnerable position.  And Jesus, with grace in his voice and love in his eyes, says to Peter, and to us, "Unless I wash you, you have no part with me."  Now I confess I am not near as bold as Peter who then, as usual, took it all the way, "Well then Lord don't stop at my feet!  Wash all of me!"  Poor Peter.  He gets a lot of flack from the pulpit for his bold statements and actions.  But I see and hear zeal in Peter. He is zealous for the Lord.  He loves Jesus more than he may even realize.  He believes even if he isn't quite sure what that belief means or will cost him.  I like Peter, I relate to him.  I, too, feel zeal for my Lord.  But I'm not bold like Peter.  I draw back and take a slower approach.  Jesus corrects Peter, and perhaps us, "No Peter.  You don't need a full body wash, you are clean except for your feet.  Washing your feet fulfills the need." Peter quiets down and we can assume he then placed his feet in the hands of Jesus.

I understand the vacillating.  I pull back from Jesus, unwilling to let him see and touch my insecurities and flaws.  He tells me that if I don't allow him in those places then I will have no part with him so I throw everything I have at him in desperation to be part of him.  He has to pull me back to a balance and reminds me that he only asked for specific insecurities and flaws, not all of it. He knows what I don't.  Eventually we'll get to the place where he has touched every insecurity and flaw but we'll take baby steps to get there (pun intended).

If I can't get vulnerable with the One who created me then I'm really going to have a tough time getting vulnerable with people. And I see the struggle in me.  I vacillate with people - my husband, my besties, my community.  I want vulnerability and sometimes I'm able to get there but a lot of times I curl my heart inward and start to pull back.  It is a lot of steps forward and backward but Philippians 1:6 says I have as much time as God determines I need to be called "complete" and since I see being complete includes allowing all of me to have been exposed and cleansed by Christ I guess I'm going to have to be patient in the process, and allow grace to wash over me...and my feet.