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?

Vodka and Jesus

"What are you guys still doing up," asked my brother, arriving home from a Yankee's game he, Dad, and Brad went to.

"We are drinking vodka and talking about Jesus," was my sister-in-love's reply.

Let me explain how that came to be...

Earlier that afternoon we went to get mani/pedi's.  On the way home we ducked into the liquor store on the corner of First and 86th, heading back to the section we wanted. Before us was a wide variety of flavors. Birthday Cake, Cotton Candy, Chocolate Covered Strawberries, Pineapple Coconut, Root Beer Float, Blueberry, the one we wanted - Salted Caramel, and so many more.
We made the purchase and crossed the street to the apartment.  Stowing it in the freezer with a plan for later we went about our girls night with delicious vegan food and wine.  We laughed and talked and shared stories about my brother with my soon to be sister-in-love.  Mama and Adele left for their respective beds, Rebecca and I grabbed the bottle from the freezer, plopped a couple of ice cubes in two glasses, and poured a nightcap of Salted Caramel Vodka for ourselves.  We folded our legs under us, swirling our glasses, sipping, and chatting.  And Jesus somehow found his way into our conversation.

Jesus is a "forbidden" topic in my extended family.  Years ago, on the eve of Paul and Rebecca's wedding, my brother made a family rule that we all agreed to.  No politics, no religion.  Leave those off the table and out of discussion and we'll all get along just fine.  Can't mature adults discuss these topics and agree to disagree?  One would think so but we hadn't yet seen a successful practice of that in any of our circles.  With our diverse thoughts and opinions on those two hot button topics we figured it best to shelve them, permanently, during family times.  And it's worked rather well for us over the years.  There's been a divisive moment or two between siblings and sometimes we have broached politics with permission granted but generally we steer clear of those things, at least in large group conversations, and find plenty of other topics for discussion.

But my sister-in-love, Rebecca, and I can talk about Jesus openly and be okay, better than okay, with one another.  And so we have, over the years, discussed faith and religion, God and Jesus, spiritual matters. She's been privvy to some of the more private moments of my faith transformation in the past few years. She has confided in me her thoughts about raising children with a sense of spirituality and what that might look like among her own personal thoughts about God.

As we swirled and sipped our Salted Caramel vodka Jesus came up.  He had already made a briefer appearance earlier that day so it was natural to bring him back in to the conversation.  She asked me questions about my recent expressions of faith and for the first time with anyone other than my husband I answered the questions and was able to give a halfway intelligent reason for the why's .  We talked about expectations I may have of others and she knew I was honest when I said I had none, these were my convictions and I didn't want or feel the need to force them on anyone else, even my own children and husband.  She asked more questions, I gave answers best I could.  She shared with me some thoughts and ideas she had been mulling over recently.  We found common ground in each other's thoughts about faith, God, and Jesus.  We discovered, with Jesus between us and vodka in our glasses, that we are walking similar directions in matters of faith.  Our paths appear very different but the core of our journey is so similar it feels comfortable to one another.

Then Paul came home and the conversation wrapped up.  Glasses were drained, put away, the bed was pulled out for me and we all laid down for the night.  And I laid there thinking about Jesus and vodka and smiling over the road Rebecca and I walk together in matters of faith.  Maybe it was the vodka that warmed me that night but maybe it was the presence of Jesus in our conversation and relationship also.

How about you?  Do you have someone in your life that you can sip vodka with and discuss Jesus?  Maybe it's not vodka, maybe it's coffee, but do you have someone you can be open with?  Who feels safe to be honest with about confidences in faith and doubts in faith? 

Are you scandalized that Jesus participated in a conversation where alcohol was being consumed?  If so, why?  Does it disturb you that we have a family rule of no religion, or politics, talk?  If so, why?  

Evicting Regrets

I was a student at a Christian High School driving home one day with friends.  There were two car loads of us driving down a street in our city. Our windows were down and we were driving side by side kind of racing and doing stupid teenager stuff.  In a moment of "trash talk" I talked trash and let the F-bomb fly, loudly, out of my mouth. The shocked and stunned looks and silence greeted that moment and sobered me up pretty quickly. I can still remember my ears on fire from shame and my mouth feeling like it had been coated with some nasty chemical.  That was about 25 years ago and yet I can remember the regret and shame of it to this very second.   

I was still a student at a Christian High School and my boyfriend and I got too comfortable with one another. One night we were parked behind a deserted building, making out and taking things way too far. In a moment of teenage lust I asked him to take us way too far and in a moment of God's saving grace we were caught by a security guard that was on the premises.  He interrupted what would have turned into an even bigger regret. That was about 24 years ago and yet I can remember the regret and shame of one, having allowed lust to take over my standards and two, being caught in such a intimate position. To this day when I drive by that building I have to battle the shame that wells up in my soul. 

I was on staff at a local church and struggling with my emotional and mental baggage.  Unfortunately the man I was assisting took advantage of my struggles, which he knew about, and used them to his benefit when our working relationship was called into question.  (In case anyone wonders about my response to that questioning...EW.  Enough said.)  Without my knowledge, a list was written up and presented to other staff members for review and to hear his side of the supposed story before I was set in a chair and accused of multiple lies. (There is SO much wrong with this story right?)  I sat in that chair and read over a list of ways in which I was unacceptable and unworthy to be in ministry and the shame covered me like a heavy thick blanket. There was a whisper somewhere deep within me that said, "Fight back. Stand up for yourself, you know the truth," but the whisper was smothered by the shame this man was attempting to heap on me.  So I let them tell me who I was and didn't fight for myself.  I regret that.  I regret not standing up for myself; I regret not being stronger in spirit to speak truth against the lies being told. It took me 5 years to go back to some of those men and confront the shame they had attempted to cover me in and stand up for myself.

I have said things I regret, I have behaved in ways that I regret, I have had relationships that I regret, and my guess is you have too.  Regret seems to be a part of life.  I've been thinking about regrets for the past few months, I guess actually for the past year or so.  This could be a good or bad thing.  Sometimes when dwelling on regrets I can begin to wallow. Other times I can see the other side of it.  I have done a little bit of both in the past year when thinking about regrets but now I'm at the place where I am acknowledging them without the wallowing and choosing to move forward without them tagging along. I mean really, what am I going to do about something I regret from 25 years ago? Nothing. I'm going to do nothing because it is what it is now; even then it was what it was. I think I might be able to see that even in the regret there was something good and right that happened within it or as a result of it. It's a very "unanswered prayers" perspective I am allowing myself to have and I'm learning how to have.

I was wallowing a bit a few months ago.  A relationship that had ended years ago resurfaced and unsettled my soul.  I had found my own closure with the person, without their participation, and had moved on a few years earlier.  And then suddenly they entered into my world, albeit on the fringes. Old and even some new regrets presented themselves and I was wading through the quicksand of rocky emotions and "what ifs." That's what wallowing in regret does.  All these "what ifs" start talking and distort reality and truth.  "What ifs" blur lines that were sharp just a day ago.  Regret drags a countenance down.  Regret pulls us back to the past and convinces us that it is too late to start over, make a brand new start, forgive, change, etc.  Regret is the tool used to turn us away from truth.

The lie of regret says, "It's over, it's finished. You are stuck in this place forever."
The truth says, "You can start over right now this very second and move forward."

The lie of regret says, "Maybe if you had just waited it out and been more patient you would have gotten it."
The truth says, "Don't waste your life on a 'what if'.  Move forward and don't settle for second best."

The lie of regret says, "You can't change what you have done. You will be all alone now."
The truth says, "You can't change what you have done but you can make amends and seek restoration. You are not alone."

The lie of regret says, "Shame is your name, you need to hold on to it to remind yourself of your wretchedness."
The truth says, "You are not who you were, you are forgiven and released."

There's more where those lies and truth come from but you get the idea. My guess is you have battled some of those lies yourself.  They aren't unique to just me or you, lies are unimaginative and universal.  The truth is the cure for what ails.  And once truth conquers the lie we see that we can start over, start fresh, restore, and create a new story that is redemptive.

A couple of years ago my High School Yearbook Advisor contacted me and asked me to come and speak to a girls class she was teaching at the Christian High School I graduated from.  I sat down in front of these Christian High School teenagers, flooded with memories of my own days there, and told them about the F-bomb.  And I told them about the regret I have of that instance.  Then I shared with them what I learned in the years since about regret, shame, healing, and the power of words. I'm not the girl I was when the F-bomb flew out of my mouth, I'm better than a word that indicates I have no imagination or class.

Fast forward a few months after I spoke to the girls at the Christian High School.  The same teacher asked me back for a new class of girls. This time I sat in front of them and told them about my indiscretions with purity and the regret I have because of it.  I told them how my choices to lower my standards for temporal lust have affected me in the years since. Then I shared with them what I learned since then about regret, shame, healing, and purity.  I'm not the girl I was when I asked my boyfriend to take us physically farther than I knew was good for us, I'm better than a choice that indicates I have no self-control or standards.

About 5 years after I had been dismissed from the church staff because I was "unfit" I walked through the doors with my husband at my side. We sat in two offices that day and with both men I stood up for myself and truth as I should have done 5 years prior.  I presented evidence to refute the lies they believed about me, I confronted them on their own choices regarding the treatment of me, I gave them the full story rather than let the half-story sit out there and continue to distort truth. I could do this because regret had no hold on me and shame was not my name.  Some would say, "You waited five years?  Sheesh, couldn't you just let it go?" The answer is no. No, I could not let it go because God would not let it go.  And if I had not followed God's timing on the when and where of standing up for truth I would have new regrets to deal with. I do my best to avoid having regrets.  :)  Guess what?  The timing, five years later, was perfect.  Both men were in a place to hear me and to seek restoration with me. Freedom happened that day.

Does regret have a place in your life?  Have you allowed it to set up camp in your heart?  Has it gotten comfy in your mind?  Make a choice to evict regret and reclaim truth!  It may mean forgiving self, forgiving others, making a few lifestyle changes, taking a risk, etc but the long-term benefit of the choice to reclaim truth is worth any short-term pain.  I PROMISE.  Carl Bard said, "Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending."  Start from now and write a new ending to your story.  I am, so you are not alone!

By the way, I have never said the F-bomb again. *wink*

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*

Filters

I've been thinking a lot about filters.  I even recently talked a bit about filters over at 365.  Not just the ones that make my pictures look amazing or at least better but the filters that we have access to for filtering out gunk. Gunk from our water, gunk from the air, gunk from the engines running our cars. Or the filters that allow all the good stuff from something to be more present, such as coffee and tea.  Or the filters that allow the unnecessary to fall away to reveal the treasure.

If you are social media savvy and have heard of Instagram then perhaps you also know that you can put filters on the pictures you take before you share them with people.  This has made a whole bunch of average to terrible picture snappers look like they know what they are doing.  The filters Instagram offers cover a multitude of flaws, soften the sharp edges, and sharpen the too soft places.  I know filters for cameras have been around for a really long time but they have never been as accessible as they are now to the average person.  Now we all have the capability to reach for Ansel Adams heights thanks to filters!  (Yes, I am being sarcastic.)  I confess I filter the majority of my pictures and if I don't, I feel the responsibility to let everyone else know that the picture is awesome all on its own with no assistance. That's where #nofilterneeded comes into play.  I recently posted a couple of pictures of myself, which is rare to begin with.  I have zero desire to take part in the selfie craze.  But I did and I was struck with what I felt needed to be filtered and what didn't.

Here I am in the Summer of 1978.
I was four years old.
#nofilterneeded

Here I am in the Summer of 2014.
I am (almost) 40 years old.
I filtered the heck out of this picture,
I think I used every single filter there was.

What happened to my eyes and perception of self between 1978 and 2014?  That's what I am struck by.

Throughout the years I put filters in place but they worked in reverse.  Instead of filtering out the gunk they seemed to have filtered out the good. Life seems to have had a way in filtering out the potential I have within me and leaving me feeling defeated, tired, worn, and shamed.  The gunk stayed in while the treasure flowed out.  In 1978 I was too young to know defeat, but by 2014 it's an almost daily battle to not feel it.

I put the filters in place to protect myself, to shield myself from people and hurtful circumstances but the filters were faulty.  They seemed to have worked in reverse and by the time I realized they were broken and I needed to change them out I had years of gunk built up inside of me to clean out.  And some of the gunk had been there for so long that it had burrowed into my heart and set up like concrete. It was going to take some serious sweat equity to get cleaned up.  What happens over the course of years doesn't get cleaned up in a couple of days, and my 30's were spent cleaning up the gunk.  Yes, it has taken an entire decade. And then some.  Not all the gunk is cleaned out.  I'm still chipping away at the hardened muck of years gone by.

Evidence of this is the two pictures above.  In my (humble) opinion I am one of the cutest 4 year olds ever, *grin*, but at some point my eyes stopped seeing cute when they glanced at me in the mirror.  Over the years my eyes changed, my perception of self changed and today I shy away from too much time in the mirror or being looked at.  It's one of the many reasons I have zero desire to join in on the selfie craze.  I tell my redheads all the time that their eyes see differently than anyone else who looks at them.  I suppose if that is true for them, it is also true for me.  So my eyes have faulty filters still. In a decade that hasn't changed. So I still have to keep chipping away at the gunk.

When I entered my 30's it is like an alarm sounded in my life.  Warning: Filters need to be changed immediately.  So I put the sweat equity in and began the process of changing them out for new ones that worked how they were supposed to - gunk out, good in.  Turns out I needed a filter overhaul.  My mind needed a new filter, my mouth needed one too!  And my heart. Well, the filter on my heart was the most faulty of all.  And as I worked on my heart the other areas that needed a filter were easier to clean up.  So it's true, life starts in the heart and what is contained there flows out to the rest of us.

As I clean out the gunk and put the right kind of filter in place I have to be diligent to keep up on the maintenance. In our refrigerator we have a water dispenser and it gives us filtered water. But in order to keep getting filtered water we have to change out the filter 4 times a year.  Why? Because a filter catches the gunk and stops it from contaminating.  Same thing for our furnace, although we have to change the furnace filter monthly because of all the stuff floating around in our air.  So I have to be diligent in maintaining the filters on my heart, my mind, my mouth, etc and for the same reasons.  There's a lot of gunk floating around the air that my inner life breathes and ingests and I need the right kind of filter to catch those things and keep me from contamination.  And that has to be maintained by me.  Nobody else is going to take care of my filters, I'm the only one who can do that. Oh sure, other people have tried to maintain my filters for me but that never works out very well. They don't know my inner person the way the One who created me does and the way the One who created me calls me to maintenance. So I still have some sweat equity to put in but maintenance requires much less energy than cleaning up years of gunk.

While writing I stopped and took a selfie.  I, like when I was 4, have no make up on today and my curls aren't as noticeable because I put a headband on wet hair this morning.  My eyes look at the picture and send the message to my heart, "Many filters needed."  SIGH.  Thank goodness for the promise that what has been started in me will be completed, because I am a long ways off from being completed in that area of my life.  But my Creator is patient and kind and because of him I know now what kind of filters to apply to my life.

What about you? What faulty filters do you need to change out and replace with new, ones that actually work for you and not against you?

*Perspectives: On Parenting - Part 2

(If you missed it, here's Part 1)

*Perspective: A way of looking at a situation.  I'm a daughter, sister, friend, wife, mom, aunt, and employee.  
I don't claim to be an expert on anything nor have all the answers to something.  

Please bear that in mind as you read my perspective.  Chances are good it will differ from your own.  

It's okay to have different ones!

To be a parent is to experience love and heartbreak in ways you never thought were even possible.  A kind of heartbreak I experience is when "Mama Bear" wants to defend her cubs from the hurt that has been dealt them.  Another kind of heartbreak is when your children push back at you for attempting to raise them to be responsible and lovely human beings.

I never thought about parenting before I became one.  Some parents I know had thought about it beforehand.  Some had decided they wanted to do things just like their parents did or exactly the opposite of their parents.  Some decided to do a few things their parents did.  But I never thought about it.  I never thought about what my parents did or didn't do so along with my hub I just parented how my gut and my God led me.  My hub and I never really discussed parenting either. Most couples discuss parenting styles so they know if they are on the same page or not but we never did.  We just parented.  And it has truly been by the grace of God that our redheads are really wonderful and unique human beings.  If they are at all like me they are version 2.0 while I am version 1.0.  There are parts of me that are envious of them, sometimes I say I want to be like them when I grow up. 

But both girls, in their own unique ways, have pushed back at our parenting in the past year or so.  Until this past year, in fact not until last week, did I realize that parenting teens is triggering some issues I dealt with long ago. I have found myself anxious, fearful, uncertain, frustrated.  This is not my typical parenting personality.  But with the push back we have received I find myself in a place I haven't been in a very long time. 

My spike in anxiety levels is symptomatic of classic people pleasing.  Hey, we all, myself included, want our kids to like us. But the reality is sometimes they aren't going to.  When the girls were younger, before Middle School years, I didn't allow my desire for them to like me affect my parenting or me in any way.  I had no problems if they decided not to like me for a minute or two.  I think mostly because it truly would only be a minute or two.  But then the moments of not liking me stretched out and the tension it created was uncomfortable.  People pleasers, in recovery or not, don't like tension.  The temptation to smooth things over was always present but until the fine art of negotiation began I never gave in to it.

In the past year or so our oldest has started negotiating with us.  It's one thing to make an appeal, it's another thing to negotiate.  And after months of this I can't take it anymore. It has sucked the very life out of me.  I dread any communication I have to have with her that I know she won't like and will push back on. At times, because of her insistence, the hub and I have compromised - we give in halfway and really to give in halfway is to give in all the way.  I believe we have done it because we don't want our daughter to be mad at us or not like us. But the reality is, at some point she's going to be mad at us and not like us.  We have to find a way to be okay with it and, as my sister-in-love said, continue to "get up in her grill." We have a responsibility to our children.  Whether they know it or not, whether they like it or not, they need us to stand our ground with them. 

I feel the weight of parenting on my heart these days.  And I feel the weight of my own struggles that parenting triggers.  Each time the hub and I decide a talk with one, or both, of our children needs to be had my heart feels about 10 times heavier than normal.  My anxiety rises and threatens to override my "Mama Bear" gut instinct. That's right.  "Mama Bear" fights for her cubs, defensively and offensively.  Not only do I fight for them when their hearts have been wounded by others but I fight for them when their hearts are being threatened by choices they are making and I know will wound them at some point.  "Mama Bear" and I aren't always going to win the fight but we need to at least show up and when I allow my people pleasing anxiety to interfere in the fight then I, and my daughters, lose. I'm incongruous. I happen to know that my gut instinct is always spot on so when I make a decision opposite it I am doing nobody any favors.

So on the nights I'm not laying there in the dark heart racing with fear over their emotional trauma, I'm laying there with heart racing over the disservice I may do them if I give in and don't stand my ground.  I utter prayers to God for wisdom and discernment.  I've asked, consistently, that if either one of my children are doing something that isn't right or trying to hide something from us then God would expose it so it could be dealt with.  I struggle internally with my fears of my children disliking me, being mad at me, distancing themselves from me.  And lately this happens more often than not.  It's been a hard and challenging "year" of parenting and the internal struggle with my issues combined with the external struggle with the oldest has exhausted me.  I am worn out, run down, living a black hole life.  But "Mama Bear" and I need to keep showing up for the fight for their hearts.  In the end it doesn't matter how worn out and run down I get, their hearts are worth it.  I just hope that someday my sweet redheads realize that. 

*Perspectives: On Parenting - Part 1

*Perspective: A way of looking at a situation.  I'm a daughter, sister, friend, wife, mom, aunt, and employee.  I don't claim to be an expert on anything nor have all the answers to something.  Please bear that in mind as you read my perspective.  Chances are good it will differ from your own.  It's okay to have different ones!

When I held them in my arms just minutes after they were born all those years ago I prayed and wished more for them than what I was.  As they grew older and the hub and I had to make decisions and draw boundaries and sometimes swim upstream against culture I prayed and wished more for them than what I was.  With each passing year I breathed a sigh of relief that we all grew through the year and incredibly they were already better than what I was.  Still I prayed and wished more for them than what I was.  We faced the awkward Middle School years and we have not survived them, we have thrived in them.  Still I pray and wish more for them than what I was.  With one halfway through high school and one on the cusp of high school I dare to hope that they will continue to be more than what I was.  

This past year parenting became challenging, scary, hurtful, hard.  Both of our girls have experienced some emotional trauma and if you are a parent you know what that does to your own heart.  

I experienced my own emotional trauma (who hasn't?) in 6th grade. Sixth grade was a very defining year for me, although I wouldn't realize it until years later.  I'll spare you the details but this one: when I got home from school the day that this emotional trauma peaked, I walked into my Mama's bedroom with a tear streaked face and head hung in shame.  She picked up her phone, dialed the school, and gave the Principal of the school an earful.  The next week I found myself in a counselor's office.  My Mama showed me her heart that day when she went "Mama Bear" on my behalf.  As I said, that day was very defining.  I came away from my sixth grade year believing these messages about myself, "You are worthless", "You are not enough", "You will never be able to get 'it' right", "Your voice doesn't count", "You must be perfect", and other messages along those lines. Awesome right? Well I lived out of those messages for years, it wasn't until the past 10 years that I finally faced them and dealt with them.  So when I held my sweet redheads in my arms the day they were born and prayed and wished for them to be more than what I was, it was those messages I was praying out of their lives before they ever had a chance to enter in.  My hub and I have made sure that we communicate to our children the very opposite of what I lived with for years.  

But sometimes the lies are just a little louder or a little bolder than we anticipate. And until the past year my oldest redhead was strong in spirit, confident of herself, bold in her convictions, unwilling to allow peer pressure to speak into her life.  Somewhere along the way the little lies wiggled in until they sounded like her own voice.  My heart is broken. I wanted so desperately for my girls to not have to struggle with these kinds of lies. When I hear my oldest say these things that are not true I get angry and I'm devastated.  When my hub and I attempt to speak truth into her life and she rolls her eyes in disbelief or withdraws saying something like, "You have to say that because you are my parents" I feel a little part of my heart die.  When she allows the lies to convince her that we, her parents, don't believe in her or her potential I am angered and sick to my stomach. I know this battle.  I fought this battle for many years before finally finding victory.  It is an exhausting and damaging battle.  I don't want my child to fight this battle, there will be plenty of others she will have to fight.  

With my stomach in knots, my hands clammy, and my heart racing a mile a minute I lay in bed at night and I pray and I wish for her, for both of them, to be more than what I was and am.  And with my life experience as part of my guidebook for this adventure called parenting I, with a sinking heart, seek out a counselor she would be willing to talk to and to connect with so that she doesn't have to battle these lies for the next 15 years.  I look at her sister, so quirky in all good ways, and wonder what lies are already trying to wiggle in past the truth her Dad and I speak over her. She's already experienced some emotional trauma, very different than her sister's and that come with very different messages that, if believed, will be very damaging to her heart and relationships.  

I'm so scared for my girls.  My heart does double-time when I think of them being unhappy because of these lies and false messages.  The "Mama Bear" in me is clawing from within, anxious to be released and fight for her cubs.  But I have to be patient and wise about how I let my "Mama Bear" help.  I can't just let her loose, but I can let her have a voice from time to time.  But will my sweet redheads know that "Mama Bear" and I fight for them because they are loved and have the potential to be so much more than I ever was or am? 

in-ˈte-grə-tē

in•teg•ri•ty
noun \in-ˈte-grə-tē\
: the quality of being honest and fair
: the state of being complete or whole
Full Definition of INTEGRITY
1:  firm adherence to a code of especially moral or artistic values :  incorruptibility
2:  an unimpaired condition :  soundness
3:  the quality or state of being complete or undivided : completeness

I have some questions about integrity that have been occupying brain space for a few years now. I feel like we apply broad brushstrokes to integrity and use it toward large concepts but keep it out of the details of day to day life. This feeling, these questions, I have come after entering back into the workforce and observing people as employees.

For example (and to be sure there are others), I have watched, and heard, employees make plans to call in sick so they could do something else like go on a trip or have a day off.  They would go through these elaborate steps to make it seem as if they were getting sick so when they called in to their boss it seemed plausible.  This really began to bother me.  It speaks of several things I think but the one thing that kept coming back to me about it was the lack of integrity.

Now, I'm not throwing stones.  I am positive I have done some things that were empty of any integrity.  And because I can admit that about myself I have no judgment toward people I witness doing things that have no integrity attached to them.  I have no judgment but I do have questions for us to think through together.  

What is integrity? 
According to Webster's (definition above) integrity includes qualities of honesty and fairness.  It speaks of adhering to the rules even when we don't necessarily agree with them.  When we operate with integrity it appears that we aren't divided between the angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other both whispering in our ears.  When we are divided we will inevitably choose the devil on our shoulder over the angel and as we are we know it's wrong but we can't help it.  We can't help it because we have allowed our flesh to speak louder than the Spirit.

How do we pursue it? 
Integrity is a moment by moment, day by day choice.  Throughout our days we will have many opportunities to chose between a right direction and a wrong direction. The direction we chose indicates if we are pursuing integrity in our lives or not.

What does it look like in day to day life?
Integrity has the features of trust built in to it.  Do we trust God enough that when we make the, and it is oftentimes the harder, right choice he will honor it?   Do we trust that the harder choice, which is most often the right one, will have God in the details and it will go well for us?
Integrity has the features of honesty built in to it.  When we make the choice to be honest with someone about something integrity prompts us to speak in a forthright way and with love.  Integrity doesn't hold back the truth because it cares more about the person in the big picture than it does about the small picture which is so limited.  We also practice honesty in our own life, not trying to skirt around truth or cover up anything that needs to be exposed in our own life.
Integrity has the features of authenticity built in to it.  A person pursuing integrity knows that what they do when nobody is watching is just as important, actually more so, as what they are doing when people can see them.  A person pursuing integrity is one who is consistent in their behaviors and attitudes in public or in private.    

How does it apply to all areas of life? 
There isn't an area of life where integrity isn't applicable.  How we interact in relationships - friendships, co-workers, significant others, parenting, anyone who falls into your sphere of influence throughout your days (teachers, cashiers, etc) - integrity applies.  How we perform our job - integrity applies.  How we handle our finances - integrity applies.  If people see us lacking integrity in one area of our life they will wonder if we act with integrity in any area.

And perhaps the most important question of all...
If and when I don't stand up for integrity what does that say about mine?
This is the question that stops me in my tracks.  When I fail to act with integrity by standing up for it then the message I send out is that I, also, don't think integrity is valuable.  I will act with integrity and stand up for integrity only when I know and recognize the value of it.  What kind of price am I putting on it?  Do I recognize how priceless integrity is?  Do I believe that making the right choice pays off in the end, maybe not in the short-term but in the long-term for sure?  Do I trust that God will honor my decision to behave with integrity even when it's really hard and may be inconvenient or uncomfortable?

I can't force anyone but myself to act with integrity.  I can stand up for it, I can encourage the people in my life to pursue it, I can make choices that show I am pursuing integrity but I can't force it on anyone else.

Integrity is not a general concept to be applied with broad brushstrokes but it is an intricate detail applied with intention and attention to the enhancements it brings to our characters. Let us not settle for anything less.

A Thief Named Comparison

That sneaky thief.

It crept up on me while I was looking the other way, mumbling under my breath with envy as I stared down the source of my green skin.  

It crept on me while I puffed up with pride, looking down my nose, and sneering with judgment at the source of my inflated ego.  

That sneaky thief. 

After it crept up on me and accomplished its work I felt something missing.  I checked my bag, not in there. I checked my pockets, empty.  I scratched my head, where could it be?  That sneaky thief stole it right out from under my green skin and my inflated ego. 

That sneaky thief stole my joy.  

That sneaky thief named Comparison has stolen my joy.

It was stolen from me when I looked at someone else and allowed the green monster of envy to emerge.  As I compared my job - my house - my parenting - my body - my children - my parents - my siblings - my friends - my material possessions - my spiritual journey - my marriage - my relationships - my academic prowess - my fashion sense - my decorating skills - my hospitality - my fill in the blank - my joy was stolen away from me, my gratitude for what my life consisted of was stolen away.  I was left empty, joyless.  All that I had was a grumbling heart and a green tint to my skin.  I was never satisfied and my smiles were strained and spoke of jealousy due to the thief named Comparison.  My eyes were blind to the good things in my life.

It was stolen from me when I looked at someone else and allowed my ego to inflate with pride.  As I compared my job - my house - my parenting - my body - my children - my parents - my siblings - my friends - my material possessions - my spiritual journey - my marriage - my relationships - my academic prowess - my fashion sense - my decorating skills - my hospitality - my fill in the blank - my joy was stolen away from me, my gratitude for what my life consisted of was stolen away.  As I secretly, or not so secretly, passed on judgment on someone else who I perceived as inferior to me the joy in my life drained out as if my lifeblood was being drained out.  My inflated ego and judgmental spirit compared my life to theirs and that thief somehow convinced me that I was superior and they inferior.  I was left empty, joyless.  I had no compassion nor kindness in me and my ego was inflated to the point of bursting.  I was arrogant and competitive, always seeking to make sure Comparison found me to be the "winner."

That sneaky thief Comparison has stolen my joy by convincing me that I am both not good enough and better than.  And now I am bereft without joy.

That sneaky thief named Comparison stole my joy but I'm going to steal it back, reclaim it as mine.

I'm going to reclaim it as I look at my job - my house - my parenting - my body - my children - my parents - my siblings - my friends - my material possessions - my spiritual journey - my marriage - my relationships - my academic prowess - my fashion sense - my decorating skills - my hospitality - my fill in the blank - and discover I am grateful for what I have and I have a choice to improve what I'm not happy about. I'm going to reclaim it as I look at others and instead of having envy toward them or thinking myself better than them I simply choose to acknowledge their journey looks different than mine.  I'm going to fill back up with joy as I choose gratitude over envy, as I choose humility over superiority.

I took back what was rightly mine from that sneaky thief.  Comparison is bondage and joy is freedom and I'm free once again.  

Make the Thought Count

It's not like it's a new thought or idea.  When Solomon states in Ecclesiastes that there is nothing new under the sun he spoke truth.  There are no new thoughts, ideas, etc but there are expansions on what is already present.  There are new twists to the present idea or thought. There are different or even new applications.

I have read Philippians 1:3 countless times.  And countless is an understatement.  It is one of the most overused verses in the Bible.  So the temptation is to skim right by it in search of deeper truths.  But, for whatever reason, this day I skidded to a halt on this verse.

I thank my God every time I remember you.  

How many people do you think about each day?  On average?  The people you live with, the people you work with, and then who else?  Maybe a handful more?  And for the most part probably a different handful every day.  I want to zero in on that handful.  Chances are good that your interactions with those you live with communicate that you are thinking about them.  And for your co-workers?  Well that's a hit and miss I suppose but since you interact with them 5 days a week chances are decent that your communications with them indicate you have thought about them in some way as well (whether or not you are thankful is another story).  But it's that handful.  When they happen to run across your mind do you let them know?

Every so often I drink Lady Gray Tea.  It's not my most favorite but every so often I get a craving for it. And when I do drink it I think of one person every time without fail.  She and I are no longer friends.  I suppose we are still acquaintances, but we don't have daily communication and haven't seen each other in about 4 years.  But this tea makes me think of her.  It so happened that the day after I had skidded to a halt on Philippians 1:3 I made myself some Lady Gray tea.  And since it was so fresh in my mind I decided to act on thinking about her.  So I emailed her.  It was super short.  I simply let her know I thought of her because of the tea I was having and I hoped she was well.  That's it. No big conversations, no initiation of relationship, nothing but just letting her know she was thought of.  It doesn't matter what she thought of my out-of-the-blue email, I just knew that somehow it made a difference for me. Maybe it did for her too.

Certain things - smells, sounds, music, foods - are triggers for me.  I'm guessing they are for you too.  And usually when a memory is triggered a person is part of that memory. Sometimes they are still in my life, other times not.  With some people and the memories attached to them I don't feel so thankful.  Sometimes I remember that I have also questioned God, not thanked him, for allowing that person to be part of my life at some point.  Depending on how long ago the person was in my life I might still be questioning God today. *grin* Just being honest.  But I do try to insert some thankfulness in there as well. I try to be objective and mature about the reasons why that person was in my life, their role in my own personal growth, and my role in the relationship I had with them.  I search for the reasons why I can be thankful to God for them. And frankly, a lot of those reasons usually center on how not to behave in relationships, in how not to be in relationship to God, in how not to treat others.  So I can be thankful for them, not for the positives but for the negatives because they served as a lesson for me in how not to be.  So see?  I can still be thankful to God for them when they cross my mind, which they do from time to time.

So all this has me thinking, what would change in our relationships if we did the following based on Philippians 1:3?
*Thanked God for the person who just ran across our mind (even if we don't personally like them!) and pray for them (people it counts with God if this all happens in a space of 30 seconds - you don't have to spend hours on this and when praying for someone you don't have to know what's going on with them - trust that God knows because he does).
*If possible, and appropriate, let them know you have thought about them.  (Send a text, send a Facebook Inbox, send an email, dial their phone number and call them, drop a note by their workplace, knock on their door and give them a hug, you can see there are many ways to let people know they are being thought of.)

What could change in that person's life because of that?
What could change in our lives because of practicing that kind of contact?
What might change in relationships because of that small intentional reach out?

If you are like me then you think about someone at least once a day accompanied by the thought, "Oh I should fill in the blank them (call, text, etc)" and then the day continues and you get caught up in its flow and the thought occurs to you again about midnight when you need to be sleeping.  And then you just never follow through. The thought was there but never acted on.  And if you are like me perhaps you have shrugged your shoulders and said, "Oh well it's the thought that counts."  Um.  Not in this case actually.  In this kind of situation the thought doesn't count because nobody but you knows you had the thought! So make the thought count, share it with the person you had it about.  Take 30 seconds and communicate with them.  Make the thought count.   

I'm not good at making the thought count. There's my confession.  I just spent the last few minutes telling *you* to do it when I myself kinda stink at it.  But I promise I'm not being hypocritical, you want to know why?  Because I'm not saying I am great at this and because I use posts like these to be a reminder to me of how I want to live my life. So really this whole post is for me and if *you* get something out of it then great! Also, sometimes I stink at this because of the season of life I am in.  Sometimes my seasons wear me out and I'm just trying to get through the days.  And sometimes my seasons are dark and when they are one of the first things to taper off in my life is my communication with others. These aren't excuses, just realities. And you have your realities as well. But even in the midst of our realities let's try to reach out in small but potentially meaningful ways.

Let's make the thought count.  

Diversity. Our Common Ground.

I've been thinking about diversity lately. In fact, I looked it up to make sure that I was thinking about it in its true definition and not how our culture has attempted to define it.* For the record, I was thinking of it in its original intent.  *grin*

A few months ago I was standing at the back of a packed auditorium at a concert.  I was watching the performer when my eyes began to sweep the room and catch the people attending instead.  It was a Christian artist and the song happened to be one that prompted a worship atmosphere so some hands were raised and some were not, some people were singing along and others weren't.  I'm guessing there were people there who are pre-tribulation and others that are post-tribulation and still others who are mid-tribulation.  There were probably people there who take communion every week and some who only take it once a month. I am positive there were people there who love John MacArthur and others who love Joel Osteen. And I know for a fact there were people there who read the King James Version of the Bible and believed anyone who didn't may be in danger of the fires of hell.  While other people in the room, say like myself, like to look at a portion of scripture in 4 different versions of the Bible. There were people in the room who speak in tongues and others who don't.  I guess you could say it was a diverse group of people.

Recently, at my home church, we were looking at a chapter in 2 Kings. The person leading the chapter discussion had shared her thoughts on the chapter and what kind of things stood out to her. My notes and observations of the same chapter yielded completely different thoughts!  And I smiled because that's diversity.  Just like the concert I attended where diversity was so well represented in the room so it made an appearance again in a smaller setting.

Diversity is a reality of life.  We cannot escape it.  If we were not a diverse people we would be like a clone cult. And those never work out very well. (Remember Jim Jones and the Kool-Aid?  David Koresh and Waco?)  Diversity is something that people scream for from the tops of their soapboxes but in their personal lives they sneer at. We don't want diversity, we want conformity.  Once we step down from our soapboxes for diversity we change our stance.  Somehow we think diversity in universal ways is attainable without accepting diversity in personal ways.  We disparage people for their different beliefs about politics, religion, parenting, education, or whatever else would fall into that category.  We vilify people for holding a different opinion than our own.  Here's a profound truth: until you embrace diversity in your personal life you will be a weak and ineffective voice for it in the world.

Here's another profound truth about diversity, brought to you compliments of life experience, mine namely: In all the areas where we do not entertain diversity in our personal lives we will be challenged on.  In all the areas where we stubbornly cling to hateful, inconsistent, and hypocritical beliefs born of legalism we will be challenged on. Don't believe me?  Look at Jesus. He consistently challenged the Pharisees on their false, hypocritical, inconsistent, and at times hateful, beliefs and traditions. And they responded as so many still do today.  They disparaged him, they vilified him, and then they tried to kill him.  We may not go so far as to physically harm someone who doesn't agree with us but we do kill them with our words.  We use our words as a weapon to cut down anyone who dares to show a different side than the one we have.

What if you are wrong about that belief you cling to?  I know.  I know you think it's not possible that you could be wrong, misinformed, mistaken, or deceived but what if you are?  The answer lies in diversity. We must invite it into our lives, through people, to help us stay grounded and filtered.  We must allow diversity, through people, to challenge us.  Even if we end up not agreeing with them we need the reminder to stay open to other trains of thought, methods, beliefs, etc.  Here's a great definition I came across from the University of Oregon: The concept of diversity encompasses acceptance and respect. It means understanding that each individual is unique, and recognizing our individual differences.  These can be along the dimensions of race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, socio-economic status, age, physical abilities, religious beliefs, political beliefs, or other ideologies.  It is the exploration of these differences in a safe, positive, and nurturing environment. It is about understanding each other and moving beyond simple tolerance to embracing and celebrating the rich dimensions of diversity contained within each individual.

What's an appropriate way to respond to diversity in our personal lives?  Well, I can tell you what isn't appropriate!  It is not appropriate to use coarse and vulgar language to prove your point.  It is not appropriate to attack someones character for having a differing opinion.  It is unacceptable to cut off relationship* with someone just because they think black tea is best and you think green tea is the only tea to drink.  (Do you see how I kept that example light and out of controversial territory? *wink*)  What is appropriate is keeping an open mind and heart, allowing the other person to share their view with you, embracing the challenge a different train of thought brings, giving yourself permission to be wrong or to change your mind, allowing for the possibility that both perspectives are true and there may be more than one way to do something.

Diversity allows for opposing or opposite views to co-exist.  We don't have to have "everything" in common but diversity is the one thing we do, or should, have in common and we should celebrate it every day.*

*For culture's attempts at defining diversity click here and scroll down to read the variety of definitions. 
*Sometimes we have to cut off relationship with someone for a variety of reasons but that's not what this blog is about. That's a whole other can of worms to open! 

*That's a loose quote from an unknown source. 

Before writing this post I wrote one on Tolerance.  Click here to read those thoughts!

You call that tolerant? Huh.

Have you ever noticed that people who claim to be tolerant are usually one of the most intolerant people? You haven't? Well stick with me and I'll show you what I mean.
First let's have a quick vocabulary lesson.  Here's what tolerant means. And here's what intolerant means.
Okay now that we are all on the same page, let's continue.

Here's a real life story about pride in being tolerant being a mask for intolerance.  Recently* someone I know personally bragged about their tolerance for other religious beliefs and cultures.  They cited examples of going to dinner parties where all different religions mixed and it was wonderful and this person felt so good about themselves for being so tolerant.  The same "tolerant" (remember what it means) person refused to attend a family member's baptism and threw an adult style temper tantrum over it. They refused to exit the car in the church parking lot and then, when finally coerced into coming into the church, they pulled out a fictional novel and pointedly read it the entire service.  Yep, that person is so tolerant.

And they aren't the only prideful "tolerant" person I've run into throughout the years that are actually one of the most intolerant people I know.  To accuse me of being intolerant is, well, comical.  But I get accused of that a lot.  In fact, I get accused of it by the "tolerant" people - you know the ones who say they are tolerant but refuse to participate in certain events, discussions, etc because a *gasp* Christian might be there.  Yet I show up to their discussions, events, etc.  So who is the tolerant one and who is the one that displays intolerance?  The "tolerant" ones that won't read research that the opposing view offers but me, the "intolerant" one, that wants to know both sides.  The "tolerant" ones that purposefully post vulgar language, derisive cartoons, and needling articles on their social media sites or me, the "intolerant" one, that respects their choice and doesn't say things to purposely offend or start debate that can't be productive.  The "tolerant" ones that assign a generality to all Christians because of one person (think Pat Robertson, ugh) or me, the "intolerant" one, who knows one person's stupidity doesn't represent all who have similar beliefs.

A friend recently had this as her Facebook status, "I have no tolerance for intolerance.  There.  I said it."  I thought to myself, "YES!  Exactly!"  She succinctly put into words what this particular article is about.  The only thing I knowingly have intolerance for is intolerance.  I try to be objective and open minded about everything else.  This doesn't mean I agree with everything else but it means I don't treat people with differing beliefs, opinions, etc as idiots for not seeing things my way.

Being tolerant means having respect for people having their own opinions, whether you agree with them or not.  Being tolerant means allowing yourself to be surprised by a perspective change on a topic you have stood firm on in the past.  Being tolerant means admiring the intelligence that resides in others besides yourself. (I have also found that a good majority of intolerant people consider themselves to be genius as well.  And no that is not an intolerant statement about intolerant people, that's a observation born from life experience with several so-called tolerant people.)  It is not tolerance when you respect all beliefs but one.  It is not tolerance when you can't be open to someone sharing facts with you about something you don't agree with.  It is not tolerance when you purposely needle people who have opposing opinions by use of vulgar language, snide comments about them as a person, a refusal to concede to a well said fact.

I posted an article from Donald Miller the other day on my Facebook.  In my perspective it was a mild article, wasn't going to ruffle a lot of feathers or cause any sort of conversation.  I was surprised, then, when the comments started up.  And I was surprised by some of the comments!  One friend commented and when I mentioned that we would have to agree to disagree she removed her comment.  Huh.  I have no problem agreeing to disagree, I consider it to be a quality of tolerance for other opinions.  By removing her comment I felt she harbors intolerance for people who take a different position than she does and that makes me sad...and a little frustrated truthfully.  Another friend commented and it blew me away.  She said, "Beth, I look forward to your posts. You turn my preconceived notions on their head - and that's a very, very good thing."  This is my friend practicing tolerance.  She and I differ on basically every view point out there and yet here she is, willing to be open minded about seeing me and the topics we differ on in a different light. And I hope the same can be said about me.

It might be time for *us* to rethink our actual tolerance for people and things because if *you* call that (behavior or statement)  tolerant then my only response can be "huh."

*I said recently, without a timeline, in order to protect the guilty.  It could have been 5 years ago or it could have been yesterday.  

As a follow up to this post I also wrote one on Diversity.  Click here to read those thoughts!

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.

Yeast Revisited.

I looked down in my toaster and saw remnants of toast and bagels.  I emptied the handy tray that is designed to catch them and looked again.  The toaster was still littered with crumbs caught up in the coils and the edges of the toaster.  I shook it upside down, to the side, right side up, and I banged on the sides of the toaster but only a few more crumbs came tumbling out.  Short of immersing the toaster in warm water and letting it soak those crumbs are hanging on.  How appropriate, I thought, considering the reason why I was even spending time and energy on removing the crumbs.

Lanny just bought these new little LED flashlights so I used one to help me search out any food items in the dark recesses of my pantry that might contain a leavening agent.  I found a couple of items and pulled them out and placed them on the counter.  Fortunately the pile of leavening agents or items containing leaven was small.  It helps that for the past week or so I have been using or consuming things we have in our home that contain yeast or the like.  But I've consumed so much that I'm beginning to feel puffed up myself!  The break from leavened things comes at a good time.  Ha.

What in the world am I doing?  What's with this focus on leavening and removing it?  Last year I wrote about yeast.  And this year I'm back with some additional thoughts about it.  Today is the first day of the Feast of Unleavened Bread.  In Leviticus 23 God tells his people to abstain from things with leavening for 7 days and to remove it completely from their surroundings for those 7 days as well.  The observance begins with Passover, which is also commanded by the Lord to observe every year.  In the New Testament Paul addresses the observance of the Feast of Unleavened Bread by saying, "Get rid of the old yeast, so that you may be a new unleavened batch—as you really are. For Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed. Therefore let us keep the Festival, not with the old bread leavened with malice and wickedness, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth." And while what Paul says sounds like a metaphorical observance I am inclined to believe he was actually speaking literally.  Why?  One reason is that Paul was an observant Jewish man who happened to believe that Jesus was the Savior.  He also happened to believe that Jesus meant what he said when he declared that he had come not to abolish the Law but to fulfill it. Paul followed God's commands to keep the biblical festivals and knew that observing the Feast of Unleavened Bread literally led to the metaphorical observance as well.  And it does.  God knows that we need something with substance to use for our metaphors and searching out and ridding our surroundings of leavening agents does the trick.  God uses yeast and its function as a word picture for sin in our lives.  And God desires to see us go after sin and remove it.  He wants us to be diligent about it all the time but for 7 days we are to be hyper-diligent as a way to keep us humble before him.  And it works.

If you read my post last year about yeast you'll remember that I was doing great at not partaking of any until a little slip-up which was a complete accident.  Last year I participated in the Feast by not consuming any leavened food for the 7 days. This year I decided to observe it fully by also getting rid of any food items in our home that contained leavening.  That's why I was looking in the toaster and using a flashlight to search the pantry.  And the searching accomplished exactly what the Lord, I believe, intended for it to do. It revealed that just like leaven hides in places and things I wouldn't think it needed to be, so sin does the same thing in my life.  It infiltrates my heart and hides in the places of my life where it needn't be.  And in order to find it I need to intentionally search for it, just like with the leaven in my home.  Not only was leaven hanging out in our kitchen but a look under our couch cushions revealed crumbs had made their way there and were hiding out. So I didn't have to just search the most obvious places for the hiding places, I had to search the whole house.  The same is true of sin in my life.  I shouldn't be searching for just the most obvious places within my life and heart for sin, I need to search all the nooks and crannies.  And when sin is found take the necessary steps to remove it.

A week or so ago I was studying Leviticus 5 and the chapter deals with the unintentional sins we commit and the way to handle those.  I know that in the coming week of observance I am sure to discover something that has leaven in it that I missed in my search or, just like last year, unthinkingly consume something that has yeast in it.  Those are the unintentional sins Leviticus 5 refers to.  Things I do or say that I'm not aware, at the time, offend our Holy God but once I am aware I am required to make right.  God makes provision even for the unintentional.  His grace is deep and wide.

Black Hole Living

Sometimes it seems miles away from me and other times I am teetering on the edge peering down into the darkness.  And then there are the times it swallows me up, almost without my noticing until I am in a free fall like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole to Wonderland.  Except I don't land in Wonderland, I land at the bottom of a black hole.
I lay there, looking up and searching for the pinpoint of light that I need to claw my way up to.  My black hole changes depths, sometimes it is deep and others times it is relatively shallow. Laying at the bottom I feel defeated, depleted, despairing. Wrapping energy around these emotions takes work and until I do I won't be able to claw out of this hole.  So I lay there and I work to get enough energy to begin the upward journey. Eventually I begin to claw my way up.  It feels like one step forward and two steps backward at times. Sometimes I reach the top only to slip back down again.  And then there are the times that I reach the top and I grip the edge with my fingertips and I begin the painstaking process of pulling myself up and out of that hole once again. Should I succeed, or rather when I succeed, it takes some recovery time before I can safely move away from the edge of the hole.
I lay there, so aware of how one little shift would send me tumbling down the hole again, panting and trying to catch my breath.  I inch away from the edge, my energy depleted by the claw-climb out of the hole.  The further I inch away the stronger I become.  Eventually I can get to my hands and knees and move a little faster, always seeking to put distance between myself and the black hole. At some point I know I will be able to get to my feet and walk and then even perhaps run to lengthen the distance.  The further I can get away from it the longer it will take for another encounter.  Because the reality is I am going to have another encounter.  The black hole didn't even exist until a few years ago but now it is here to stay, making its presence known.  Now it is a reality in my life, it is a struggle I encounter, it is a tool of humility.
It isolates me even as truth within me whispers its warnings against isolation.  It numbs me to relationships.  It sucks all physical and emotional energy out of me.  But it no longer perplexes me.  It no longer deceives me into masking what it really is.  I know what it will take to claw-climb out of it.  In some ways I can even determine its depth.  And some days, while in the claw-climb of the black hole, I am even able to laugh and smile and people think I am enjoying life.  I'm good in public, I can almost make the black hole disappear. But see me alone and then you see what kind of life I'm living in the black hole.  Try to interact with me in person or virtually and you will get delayed responses, if you get them at all.  Try to catch my eye and hold eye contact, I'll look away after about 1 second but not before you catch the weariness.  Listen to what I say and you'll hear about my low-energy levels.  Observe me from a distance and you'll see me deeply sigh, blink, and try to motivate myself to do something productive.  Yes, once you know what to look for you will know if I've been sucked in to another black hole or if I am trying to claw-climb my way out of one.
But life in the black hole has had one surprising gift.  It has been, and continues to be, one of perspective.  I have an expanded perspective on God's grace, God's people, and God's love.  So for all the weight that black hole living brings to me, both figuratively and literally, there's a bright pinpoint of light always guiding me.