The Hardest Thing

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When it’s all over and we all stand up, I know what my heart is supposed to be doing. There is just a lot going on to keep me sitting lazy. Lines form in the rows as one at a time sliced bread is dipped into either wine or juice. Children enter the room twirling and doing knee bounces to the music. I look over at my love. Head bowed. Hand on my knee. Other hand on his forehead. I turn my head down and start blocking. My to do list thoughts. My chair being knocked by the family behind me. The singing that has started around me. Though it is my favorite song, I have much to say to the Lord. I need to say it. I need to lean in. My thoughts resist. Even trite thoughts and make believe prayers fill my mind. I end them to start real life ones. The conversation feels hard. But I need to do the right thing in this moment even though it is a hard thing.

Last Tuesday as the usual group lit into a conversation about raising children, what she said struck a bell with me. Sometimes it takes up her whole morning to discipline one thing and those hours are gone, but she didn’t let the thing – whatever it was – slide. She let it take up her morning to deal with it. This was her love for her child.

I had already been thinking about this lately. That the right thing to do in my life is very often the hardest thing for me to do. Rarely does doing the right thing or the obedient thing or the selfless thing feel easy. It’s a pulling and a fighting and a submission hold of the flesh.

My daughter didn’t want to eat lunch today, like most days. Her boney legs dangled from her booster seat. She ate some after doddling a while and then finally got a bite too big and threw up the entire meal. At dinner we did all we knew to do to get her to eat. Act like ridiculous ADHD cheerleaders for every single bite. Probably like twenty seven of them. And every bite was followed by our bright eyes, as we wildly slapped her hands over and over and threw her arms up in the air multiple times. You could see she thought of quitting numerous times. But then she’d see my eyes start to light up. She’d prep her lips, clear out her mouth – as is her usual habit before each bite – and open up wide, looking at us expectantly. She finished that container. Bite by bite. Cheer by cheer. And we wanted to collapse at the end of that darn meal. But she’d eaten. One container of yogurt. And our hearts triumphed. It wasn’t the easy thing. But it was the right thing. And I knew it was how we could love her through her stressful trial of mealtime.

I feel this pushing to do the right thing all the time. And it feels awful, how difficult it seems to choose that, but nonetheless the challenge towards it comes again and again. When I am writing a friend an email reply and know they don’t need to just hear “I’m praying” but instead need to know if there is any encouragement or counsel from my heart. When my husband and I cannot seem to get our thoughts to overlap in harmony and it takes hours of talking to wind our hearts together. When the girls disobey for the thirtieth time that day and I choose not to ignore but again and again go to teach and discipline so that their hearts understand what is right and good. When I have wronged someone and I feel that maybe they would just overlook it or maybe they have even already forgotten it, but I know in my heart of hearts that I am called to confess and reconcile with them. When someone insults me, to overlook their words and do the work of seeing their pain and misery under the conversation so that I can absorb the blows. When I would rather “get something done” but little beauty girl is saying “up” and handing me books.

I don’t want to do the lazy thing. As I “sit there” and all of the distractions and wills of life call around me for my attention, I know it will be difficult to bend my knee and bow my head to die to myself. To block the thoughts that becon me to be about myself. And to say and do the things that the Spirit in me is requiring me to do. In those moments, I want to put my will in a submission hold until it passes out and does the right thing. Even though usually it’s the hardest thing.

Out on a date

Jason and Kanah are out on a date right now. I know he's most likely going to blog about his daddy dates with both of the girls, so I won't steal his thunder. But I just have to say that it is the best feeling in the world to enjoy watching your bugs be loved well by their daddy. I know not all children get that joy and I just feel blessed and don't want to take it for granted one day that Kanah and Grace have such a loving, present daddy who really takes joy in their little lives. Mars Hill just had a great sermon on dads and daughters in the last of the Song of Solomon series and it would be a crazy great idea for any parents to listen to.

Emotion

My lady babies keep teaching me about what they are capable of when I'm not noticing.

I was talking to my mom and Andy today while I was cooking dinner. Kanah and Grace were in the living room playing and waiting for daddy to get home. I was chopping up some onions and didn't crunch the tips of my fingers in like they show you how to do on the Food Network. Big shocker, I sliced into my thumb. Yelled a word that most Christians would be appalled at me for, and burst into tears. I got off the phone and held my hand under the sink, letting my tears annoint the pain and maybe also some of the stress of the day. Next thing I know I hear a softly mumbling Grace at my side and her arms are stretched up to me. I can't pick her up since I'm still stopping the blood so she just holds onto my legs and is quietly talking in her own language, looking up at me often, wondering about my tears. Finally I am able to pick her up and she holds me. Grace has shown me a couple times before too that she is a sympathetic little one. She seems to know what pain is and is quick to be at my side to make it better for me. And her efforts, in her own fashion, really do minister to me and I feel like she understands me.

Once dada got home, they played for a while and then he put on Cinderella, sitting them in his lap to watch it for the first time. The girls loved it and watched it forever. There was a long scene between the cat and a mouse that was building with anxious excitement as the mouse was almost caught a couple of times. The music grew the emotion around it and at one point in the scene Kanah started crying a little bit and then a little more. At first I just thought it was random but when she started up again right as the scene got heated, Jason and I looked at each other and realized that she was really scared of the cat or maybe scared for the mouse and it brought her to tears. I guess I was just surprised that a one and a half year old is starting to experience fear in watching a scene on television. She was able to recognize that this wasn't happy anymore but it struck a cord in her to cry. Jason said in that moment, "Kanah is our emotional one, isn't she?" She can be so firey. When she does her lion roar, it's crazy ferocious (whereas Grace's sounds like...well, just not like a lion). When Kanah throws a tantrum, it's all over the floor. She grunts when she doesn't like something or when the puzzle pieces won't go in right. And when she smiles it shows all of her teeth back to the molars. She says "hi" with a loud, clear voice and when you're on her good side, you are hugged and snuggled with all of her might. What an emotional little being, both happy and sad.

After Cinderella and then dinner, Jason took the girls up for a bath. I cleaned up the kitchen and then took a few "me" minutes. I could hear them up there but my brain soon was in its own world as I read blogs and wrote emails. Finally I heard a "MAMA!" from Jason and followed by a long series of "MAMA!" shouts from the girls. When they get done w/ their baths Jason has them start yelling for me so I can help with bedtime. I smiled from my chair in the living room. I just love being called mama. I love that some little dittles are acquainted with me in such an intimate way to call me that and to need me to come to them. I just treasured up the little shouts coming down to my ears. I got up to the bathroom where the little voices were still fixated on that one word and as I made eyes with Kanah she yelled with both a fury and a huge grin, "MAAAAMAAA!" and I thought my ears would burst.

These little girls have such determination and emotion inside of them when they set their hearts on something. And I enjoy it when their hearts are set on me.

Confession on thankfulness

After thanksgiving was over I realized I did not spend one moment that day being thankful apart from an agreement in spirit during the prayer before our feast. Jason and I are always thinking through what we would like the traditions of our family to look like and although we have already begun to enjoy some of those, I think this year's day of thankfulness snuck up on me. So I confess an unthankful heart and wish to express my gratitude now.

Thank you, Lord...

For my faithful husband and precious daughters. I never, ever, ever thought I would get to enjoy a family this beautiful and it's a continual surprise how much my heart longs to be close to them and to enjoy them fully.

For this baby boy you are creating in my womb. He was a surprise from the beginning and the fact that we were going to get to be the caretakers of a little boy was an even greater surprise! And Lord you know how I like to be surprised but I always ruin them, so what a great gift of grace and I never saw it coming!

For our church. Anytime I start to get puffed up and think I know something about anything I am humbled to realize that it is because of the scripture, teaching, instruction, correction, and wisdom you have placed in my life at Mars Hill. As my friend Annie posted today from Proverbs, "He who walks with the wise grows wise."

My friends who pursue me from both near and far away. I need you in my life. I appreciate your calls, emails, play dates, and endless pursuits of me. I am a sinner who doesn't know how to love you as well as I should but I am practicing grace and I know God is blessing me through your life, words, and actions.

My families. I am blessed to have so much family in my life, both from childhood and also family I have been adopted into through Jason. I could not have survived the beginnings of motherhood without you and I still can't find enough ways to express this.

For the little things...A sunny day today. The smell of our Christmas tree. The silence in my ears right now. The comfort and safety of a home (okay, not such a little thing). My VAN ;). Hot coffee. Mint chocolate chip ice cream. My energy you give me to take care of the girls even though I am pregnant. Worship music on my ipod in the kitchen. The beautiful mountains I can see from here. So many things Lord...

Thank you Jason...

For enjoying me more than anything else in your life. I know this because your favorite place to be is at home and it blesses me to know you love me so much.

For staying faithfully persistent with me. I know I am a handful!! This is for sure! But you never give up on us, no matter what the season. I am so thankful for this diligence in you to press through trials and to always always reconcile and be close.

For loving the girls. For enjoying having them with you as you get ready in the morning. For wrestling with them right when you walk in the door even though I know you could use some rest. For taking them so I can have time. For feeding them when I just can't do it one more meal that day. For getting on your hands and knees to clean up their messes. For kissing and hugging them constantly.

For going to work everyday. I would not want to trade places with you and I treasure getting to be at home with the girls. I cannot explain how thankful I am for how you shelter me from stresses that you take on yourself to provide and protect.

For little things...cooking, washing dishes, taking out the stinky diaper bags, putting up our Christmas lights, drinking water (hehe), making the girls' morning milk every night, always always being a part of bedtime and morning time, complimenting my cooking, telling me how great I look, following through on the things around the house that drive me crazy, picking up if I leave off on a task or chore, calling about the multi-chopper piece - still sorry about that one, being graceful graceful graceful with your imperfect wife who loves you very much and who is doing her best to show you that ;).

Thank you Kanah and Grace...

(Yes, I have so much to thank you girls for too! I have felt from the beginning that I should let my daughters know how they are changing my life for the better, how the Lord is using them to teach me, love me, and grow me as a woman. So here are some of the ways...)

For all your hugs and kisses. It feels so good to be loved by children. To have your arms thrown around me and for your head to be resting so heavily on my shoulder. Touch in human relationships is so brief and momentary but with you, you linger on me and show me how to be still to enjoy holding and being held. I love your weight on me.

For all of your words. For pointing to me and saying mama and waving and saying "hi" with that long, two syllable vowel. For learning to say sorry (sa sa). For the cute ways you say "bite" and "down" and "hug." Your voices are little treasures, I can't get enough.

For helping mommy to not be lazy and selfish. You help me rise in the morning, spend my days wisely, and go to bed knowing I have been encouraged by your presences to put my priorities in order.

For your hands of worship. When any music comes on (we'll have to work on showing you the difference) you raise your hands to heaven. You remind me to worship the Lord and to know when "the music comes on" in my life to praise Jesus for all I have been given, with a thankful heart.

You show mommy how to be still, how to put my lists and agendas aside, and how to practice a new way of life. I believe getting to be your mommy has actually eliminated a lot of stresses that used to be in my life because the Lord uses you to teach me the discipline of sitting and enjoying.

Even for the times you are disobedient or sinful with each other, even in those moments I sense the Holy Spirit teaching me to be humble about my own pride, stubbornness and sin. As I discipline you, I feel Him teaching me that I am not perfect either and we all need to be turned constantly in the direction of humility and to grace.

Lord, thank you for all the unspoken as well. Right now as I have taken this time to turn my heart to thanksgiving, I actually feel you transforming my heart away from a negative focus and onto your blessings. Please help me keep a heart of praise, using these lips to bless, not curse. You are a good God, giving good gifts to your children.

My current state

I just ate a snickers bar, you know a full sized one – not a leftover halloween mini, that I had to stand on my tippy toes to pull down from the top shelf of the pantry. I then broke my feet and my shoulder again to reach a bottled coke, stored in the back of a costco box on top of the freezer in the garage. I froze the liquid delight for too long and opened it to find myself repeatedly slurping the rim as it sat like a fiesty volcano on my kitchen island. Of course a little bit leaked over the side, which just made anyone who knows me a bit cringe for my sake and also know that my next move was for a napkin to wrap around the perimeter of the liquid delight bottle. Moments later I became Joey, if you know him you know what I mean, and rebuked Jason as he put the bottle to his lips and insisted he pull away from it. This was less than thirty minutes after writing a blog on the topic “romance” for my writing group. Somewhere in there I wrote about selflessness being romantic. Hmm. With Jason upstairs now, the room is quiet, except for an occasional chug. I haven’t yet stored the puzzle pieces back in the ziplock bags or picked up the wipes that always find themselves drying outside of the package. Socks are a room away from their pair and a dirty diaper lies where it was air bombed from the other side of the room hours ago. “Melmo” and “Mammy” lay peacefully and awkwardly on the floor. A dustbuster is conveniently sitting on the chair and all four remotes have been misplaced. And exercise ball is apparently part of my fall decor on one of our living room tables because it’s been sitting there so long that the layer of dust collected over weeks has fallen around it. My knees feel tight sitting here and I straighten my legs every once in a while. It reminds me of hospital bedrest and I think of my friend. I am wondering when the dittle bug in my belly is going to wake up from this sugar rush and give me something to get distracted by. I felt him for the first time nine days ago now. Jason got a text from me while in a meeting. I like it when I lay flat and can see the shape of my uterus forming. When I stand up all my belly just rounds over it and I can’t tell what is left over twin babies, what is me and what is the new baby. I’m sitting on my living room couch, purple blanket my mom gave us for our wedding gift tucked all around me, particularly tight over my feet. My toes curl over each other and are frozen there, staying warm. And this belly is tucked right at the edge of the computer. I just had my first tired moment of the night. I yawn and realize that it is exactly 10pm. I would laugh if I weren’t tired. I am amused in my head though. I do a lot of my living from in there, in my head, Jason always reminds me. I’m realizing what an introvert I am. My cold white bedsheets are starting to appeal to me, though walking from here to there makes me want to take a nap here for a while. I’d have to gather the half of my clothing I’ve already removed, turn off lights and waddle upstairs. Another swig of my coke goes down. I’ve only had half. Just had an instant of guilt for not giving my love that sip – I never finish anything I drink. Ten o three. Not lasting much longer here. Ni Ni.

Plug

Read my hubby's blog. I like his brain. www.bythebluelight.blogspot.com.

Live Justly

We had a friend over for dinner the other night who I’ll call Friend. Friend is quite an interesting character and has lots to say on more than 80% more topics than I know anything about. I welcomed him into our home at the beginning of the evening, brain-fried from a long day with one year olds. I did a lot of staring and playing with the girls while he was at our house. Somewhere between cooking and eating our hot sandwiches, politics came up and said Friend announced that he doesn’t vote. This totally shocked me since he’s so in to everything. I think he thinks it won’t matter and all that’s important is getting the gospel out there.

Pretty much ever since this conversation I’ve gone back to this in my head a number of times. I feel disturbed, yet I understand a part of what I think he’s getting at based on my own story with politics.

I grew up in a diverse political family in the south, but mostly our immediate family declared us Republicans. Some of the family influence had a heart with a fierce, “let’s get those damn yankees” type shell. Republicans are the good guys and Democrats are the bad guys. Whatever the Republicans do and say is right. Even when a clear mistake is made, abundant forgetful grace is poured out, whereas a vigilant scrutiny stands for any trippings on the other team. I'm not excluding my own thinking here. I wore my own white hat with pride.

I remember taking this similar philosophy into religion with me when I got serious about my faith in high school. I felt I had the white hat on and all the sinning non-christians had black hats and were bad people, unlike me. I had to be perfect to maintain the title Christian and if I messed up, you had to do the sweep it under the rug deal that us Republicans did with our abundant forgetful grace. Homosexuals were bad. Heterosexuals were good. Drinkers were bad (be it one beer or ten). Abstainers were good. The sexually active were bad. Virgins were good (even if it’s only technically a virgin, sweep the rest under the rug). This mentality actually made a destructive legalist out of me and warped my every relationship until around age twenty five.

There was one particular influence that had a slightly different twist on politics for me, though I'll leave out the who, at least on this post. Let's call said person Bob. (Not my uncle by the way). Bob questioned everyone, even his own team, especially his own team. Bob’s general philosophy is that America used to be perfect and now it’s completely corrupt and it sucks. Bob started out as a Republican and began slowly to notice that his party wasn’t exactly pristine. It had cracks. Big cracks. And it seemed to him like the parties were all looking the same. Whether a Democrat or a Republican were in office, similar decisions were being made, all going in a direction that seemed to Bob to lead away from what our founding fathers would have wanted. When I think of the founding fathers of this country I think that is where Bob has thrown all the good hats he knows about. Everyone who was good and just lived in the 1700’s when they created this country and everything was perfect then because government was not yet tainted by sinners like we have in office today. So he registered independent. I remember him getting excited about one independent, or true Republican, after the next. Ross Perot. Pat Buchanan. Most recently Ron Paul. I think he fluctuates between going underground altogether and endorsing the newest maverick underdog as the one savior for this country. I may sound cynical how I am writing this. I don’t think he’d like my evaluations or maybe just how I am saying it. Truth be known, Bob is probably the most influential person I’ve ever known politically and it played out in my life in ups and downs. But overall I respect his political critique.

But in the prime of teenage years, around the years that we were talking about the New World Order and antichrists and all kinds of conspiracy theories, I kind of bought into it all. I didn’t want to be a Republican. I traded my Friends of the Earth magazine in for the New American and printed out articles on what hogwash the environmental crisis is. I remember small obsessions about black helicopters and the Oklahoma City bombing being government produced and the anti-constitutional actions taken during the Waco incident. Let’s not even get into the year 2000. I would lash out at home at my family if they dismissed these political accusations. They didn’t know what to do with me and I think they thought I was a little crazy and brainwashed. I can clearly remember having a conversation with a friend about all of this outside of my house in my car. I was really worked up and crying about it all because I didn’t know what to do about it. (Future mental note – this is a good reason to not overwhelm a hormonal teenager with issues they don’t have any control over). I remember feeling like if I didn’t do something then I’d have a chip under my skin and the tribulation would be in full effect as of next week.

Around college and pretty much ever since I’ve been out from under that camp. Although ever since I have also still been impacted and do not trust either political party one lick. I still vote. I vote Republican. But I vote because someone has to do it and since I can’t pick the nominees, I can only pick what I consider to be the lesser evil. All of this influence on me early on did leave an enormously impactful stain on me that I can’t trust anyone in politics. And actually that's about right.

My most freeing season from all of this was getting into the calvary chapel in California but mainly Mars Hill in Seattle. My legalism was shattered and a Jesus grace centered approach to my life altered everything. I saw myself as ugly as I really was. And I saw Jesus as beautiful as he really was. And I saw everyone that way. He’s the only good guy. The rest of us are screw-ups and need him. And if we act like we’ve got it together don’t trust us. It’s not real. So living in the truth of being a genuine sinner in need of constant washing of grace also transformed my politics. Bob’s influence was right in this area – I can’t depend on anyone to be my savior except my Savior, Jesus. HIS Kingdom is the prize I lean foward towards at the end of the race. That is my hope. That is when peace and perfect justice will reign. That is when all lost will be found and all broken will be restored. And in the meantime we’re just juggling broken pieces, trying to not let it all fall. I also saw that in Romans 13 it says that he appoints all rulers and authorities that have ever existed and who will ever exist. This means that sometimes he appoints people I didn’t vote for. Imagine that. God uses rulers for his purposes. He doesn’t think there’s a good guy or a bad guy either. He carries out purposes and he allows decisions to be made for a nation that sometimes are evil, because he turns us over in our sin. And sometimes in turning us over we see his wrath here on earth in our very nation. But mostly we see his wrath held back by a strong patient arm of common grace. He will tread the winepress of the wrath of his fury when he comes again and I do not want to be under his feet in that day.

So if my hope is in a future Kingdom, why do I vote now for an imperfect president who God is just going to appoint anyway?

When I vote, it’s not just for a person, it’s for everything that they will be putting their hands to as they work and carry out the wishes of the people. It’s all the issues under their feet that I am concerned about. It doesn’t mean that I believe John McCain is my savior. I certainly have a zillion doubts about his ability to be that. But I see the issues under his feet and when I look at Scripture I believe the Lord has put some things under my care, as long as they are up to me.

For example, James says that “Religion God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after the widows and orphans in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.” So in my life (not focusing on politics right now), I am to be living as a believer by looking out for the widows and orphans. So today these are called social issues. The foster care system is a social issue that God cares about. Jason and I have a huge heart for this right now. So looking up the ranks at how to be the best advocate I can for the orphans in distress, I must look all the way up to the government because they supply funds for these children. If I never look this far and only bring them a $25 gift at Christmas, I am not being the best advocate I can on this issue. This is just an example.

There are many open handed issues in politics. Taxes. Health care. War. Etc. And everyone may have different convictions, even as Christians. I got on a website the other day that listed all the issues that McCain and Obama have made statements about and it also showed their voting records on these issues until now. There were like fourteen of them. In my mind, to decide who to vote for, I have to prioritize the issues. I'm not 100% a certain party. I doubt anyone is truthfully. But we can't pick and choose our issues, we have to mostly agree with one party. So for me, I it's not about how many issues I agree with on one side, but the weight for me really gets heavy if it's a moral issue that goes against the Word of God, what God says is wrong but culture might deem alright. Namely I am referring to the right to life. This is where a "closed handed" issue (something not up for discussion but already is decided by God) weighs much more to me than "open handed" issues (issues up for discussion, you have to go by your personal convictions).

So are there any political issues on the table that would actually go against the moral authority of the Bible. Yes, abortion. This is why I don’t think I could ever ever ever ever ever vote democrat. Because if I prioritize my social issues, this is number one because murder is a sin and is obviously a closed handed issue and not something I can get around. It’s not like I can say, well abortion is murder but I don’t mind if my guy supports that as long as we get out of Iraq. And also I am responsible for what I vote for. How can I allow myself to be responsible for partial birth aborted babies? Babies who look just like babies in the hospital every day except a little smaller? Why are they worth less than a little more freedom for the individual who decides they don't want them? I know it's not always that black and white, though many times it is. But even in all the complicated issues with abortion and all the excuses that seem so valid sometimes to an individual, I still cannot get around the fact that abortion, in particular the sickness and wickedness of partial birth abortion, is killing a child and stealing their right to life. All their potential joys and smiles and relationships and hugs and hopes - stolen. Murdered. Most of the time for a little more "freedom" for the one who paid for that murder.

So back to prioritizing issues, I allow the Bible and the Holy Spirit to prioritize these issues and then I feel I have a responsibility according to Micah 6:8 “He has told you, oh man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” This verse, among others, pushes me towards living as justly as I can and wherever possible, however possible, even if it’s one vote towards life, to live out Christ’s loving justice on earth.

So for these reasons, and even with the background I am coming from, I have a strong desire to keep voting. When I vote I do feel kind of sick usually. Part of me feels like, yeah, something is going to change. But most of me feels sick and hopeless. Because this world is evil and most people don’t care about the Jesus and what he’d like to see around here. But I do know there is a Kingdom which will be ushered in without the vote of the populace. In fact I know the populace has already voted it down in their living. And that Kingdom will reign with the true justice we all long for. And on that day my heart will be freed from worry and concern and I will carry the weight of all that is wrong on my shoulders no longer. Praise to His glory.