The Pursuit of a Person

If I set out to become a better mother, the internet would have no shortage of advice for me. I wouldn't have to look far to come up with an exhausting list: things to stop doing, things to start doing, things to do differently; what to think, what to say, what not to say, how to connect, how to discipline, when to teach, where to teach--you get the picture.

But my role as a mother is not an abstract job title. The fact that I can be called a mother at all is a function of relationship. My approach to motherhood cannot be an impersonal strategy; it is intimately connected to two living, breathing people.

So while strangers on the internet, or expert authors, or even trusted friends and family, can give me helpful insights and wise counsel...the single most important priority in the pursuit of "becoming a better mom" is the pursuit of Elijah and Jude. To grow in motherhood means to move toward my sons. It happens as I spend time with them, listen to them, observe them. It happens through intentional efforts to know them better, through building shared memories and learning how to meet their needs. I become a better mom only so far as I deepen my relationship with my sons, only so far as I love Elijah and love Jude.

*     *     *

Sometimes in our efforts to avoid legalism, we drive into the other ditch, believing that any earnest effort to obey God smacks of self-righteous attempting to earn God's favor. Hebrews 12:14 corrects us:

"Strive for peace with everyone, and for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord."

To strive is to run hard, to chase after, to pursue. "Run swiftly in order to catch...holiness!" And the command is accompanied by a warning: "...without which no one will see the Lord." These are sobering words. The pursuit of holiness is not optional; it is essential to the life of faith. It is not the means by which we are accepted by God, but it offers evidence that we belong to Him.

But I think the core of this call to pursue holiness is best understood as a call to pursue a Person. The way to avoid self-righteous legalism is not to avoid the striving. It is to clarify what--or rather, WHOM--we are chasing.

We would have no reference point for "holiness" apart from God. He is True North; He *is* holiness. "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty." Holiness comes from Him and is defined by Him. Our call to holiness is always rooted in His holiness: "You shall be holy, for I am holy." 

Holiness is not a set of attitudes or behaviors, an abstract state of being. It is the essence of His character; it does not exist detached from Him. So to pursue holiness is to pursue Him. Strive to know Jesus. Draw near to Him. It's not about a list of qualities you attain to or exhibit; it's about a Person you love and resemble. 

Take, for example, the practice of reading/studying/meditating on God's Word. All Christians know they are "supposed to" do this. But WHY? Do we read the Bible as part of a checklist of "good Christian behaviors," something we do to accrue points? Does time in Scripture give you a higher "Holiness Score"?

No--we go to the Word to see Jesus. To know Him. This is where He is most clearly revealed, where He speaks to us. We read and study and meditate as a way to pursue Christ--a way to see His glory, to understand His heart. With this foundation, holiness is not about us. It's about looking like Him. We admire our Elder Brother, and we imitate what we see. We become what we behold.

By all means, pursue holiness. But don't merely strive for an abstract state of being. Chase after a Person--not just any person; our Redeemer and Savior! Our ultimate goal is to be near to Jesus because without HIS holiness, we have no hope of seeing the Lord. It is His perfect record of righteousness that makes us fit to enter the King's presence. Without holiness, no one will see the Lord. But because Jesus' blood makes us holy, we have the privilege of striving, pursuing, running hard after Him--desiring to be near Him and so becoming more like Him.   

Learning to Enjoy the Beauty

My default mode is to look for error. I have been a perfectionist my whole life, and so my sharp eyes examine carefully to spot flaws. I easily see what’s wrong, what’s ugly, what doesn’t work. This mistake-radar serves me well as an editor and writer; it’s less helpful as a mom, a wife, a friend.

Over the years, I’ve been reminded again and again of the need to take a second look. I must learn to see — my own life, others around me, the world at large — through a lens focused on grace. If I am skilled at finding fault, I want to become even more adept at finding beauty. This world is full of ugliness, to be sure, but it is also full of people made in God’s image, full of His handiwork, full of His gifts.

My newest article at Ungrind is about how and why I'm learning to see and celebrate the beauty in people--check it out!

On Seeing and Being Seen

“Mama, watch!”
“Mom! Watch this! Watch me!”
“Did you see that, Mom?”

Little boys dangle upside-down from playground equipment; they leap from ledges and hurtle down slides. And this is their constant refrain, repeatedly called out to where I sit: Look at me. Watch me. Do you see me?

I may be decades older than them, but the cry of my heart is often the same. I plod through the never-ending tasks of homemaking, and no one is watching while I transfer laundry to the dryer or scrub the shower on hands and knees. I struggle to navigate how to use my gifts and passions for God’s glory in my particular context, and sometimes it feels like I am sitting on the sidelines, whispering to the coach: Do you see me?

*          *          *

God’s answer to that heart question begins in Genesis with an unlikely character. When He reveals a new name of His for the first time, it’s not Enoch or Noah, not the “big three” of Abraham, Isaac or Jacob, who meet Him. It’s an abused, despised slave-concubine: Hagar.

I have an article up at Ungrind today reflecting on Hagar’s story and the present-day testimony of Sara Hagerty. So often, I have recognized that in my various struggles with sin, my main problem is that my eyes are on myself. I know I need to fix my eyes on Jesus--I wrote a 31-day blog series about it two years ago, for crying out loud!--and yet often I'm still not even sure how. I know that He is beautiful, but I don’t delight in His beauty. I know that He is good, but I do not taste His goodness.

These two women--one ancient, one modern--have been helping me think about seeing Him. Click over to read "Seeing the God Who Sees."

After Easter

"Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men and be crucified and on the third day rise." (Luke 24:5-7)

Over and over Jesus had told them of His coming death, and they stiff-armed the prophecies. "No, Lord!" We won't accept this. Not what we had in mind. Makes no sense. It cannot, must not happen like that.

If you cannot or will not hear the bad news, you cannot, will not comprehend the good news.

If you do not embrace the painful, the ugly, that which is terrible and does not make sense--you will not be prepared for the weight of glory.

Without the death, there can be no resurrection.

With dull and disbelieving hearts reluctant to accept His statements about His death, they primed themselves for confusion and doubt about His resurrection. "They were perplexed about this" (Luke 24:4).

And yet. This resurrected Lord is the One who opens blind eyes. He does not leave them alone in their confusion; He sends His angels to proclaim holy truth, remind them of what they failed to believe. "Remember how he told you."

Still they did not believe.

So He came Himself. "Jesus himself drew near and went with them" (v. 15).

I'll wait while you go back and reread those words. Let them stun you: Jesus himself drew near and went with them.

"He went in to stay with them" (v. 29). He sat down with them. He ate with them. "He took the bread and blessed it and broke it--" This is My body, given for you.

"And their eyes were opened."

This patient, patient Jesus. The Lord has risen indeed.  

The Beauty of Serving and Being Served

In recent weeks, as friends of mine have faced various trials, I’ve had occasion to marvel at the beauty of women asking for, giving, and receiving help.

And I've not always been on the giving end; my servant-hearted husband frequently gives me food for thought and reasons to be thankful as I receive gracious help from him. 

We hate to feel needy; we don’t want to burden others. But when we are ashamed of our weakness, or too proud to admit our need, we commit robbery.

Click over to read my article at Ungrind today about the glimpses of glory that can be seen when we cast off our pride, admit our weakness, and ask for help.

Parent Tantrums and Merciful Love

Six-thirty a.m. on a school day. No amount of sugar-coating will make it less ugly, so I'll just be frank: I threw a colossal temper tantrum. Complete with name-calling and kicking a kitchen cabinet. I yelled. I slammed dishes around. I shamed and belittled a seven-year-old. Just seeing this description of myself in black and white makes me want to crawl in a hole...but there it is.

By the time we needed to leave, I wasn’t yet truly feeling sorry. I hate to admit it, but I didn’t have a sincere desire to repent and reconcile with my kids. I was still angry—a combination of anger over the original trigger, and anger at myself for acting so irrational and out-of-control. Mercifully, I had a moment of clarity, realizing that if something happened that day, and the last interaction I had with my son was this shameful tantrum, I’d never be able to live with myself.

So I knelt down and looked in his eyes. I told him that although I had been angry, that didn’t make it OK for me to yell at him and call him a baby, and I was wrong to treat him like that. I apologized and asked him to forgive me.

Elijah didn’t hesitate to extend forgiveness. It frequently blows me away how quick my children are to accept my apologies, even when I’ve been horrible to them. I hugged and kissed him, and also hugged and kissed my four-year-old (who had suffered collateral damage from my tantrum, receiving a few harsh words of his own for minor things that ordinarily wouldn’t have been such a big deal), and we got in the car.

While the instant forgiveness was beautiful and impressive, that wasn’t what struck me hardest. The really remarkable thing happened later that morning.

[Head over to Ungrind to read the rest!]

Celebrating Waiting

Usually waiting is a process to be dreaded, avoided, or endured. Who likes to wait for what she doesn't have but earnestly desires? But every December, I very much look forward to a season of waiting.

Over the last few years, we have begun to develop some special family traditions to keep Jesus at the center of the Christmas season. My favorite by far has been the Jesse Tree. If you’re unfamiliar with this custom, a Jesse Tree is a way of celebrating Advent by tracing the story of redemption through the Old Testament, looking for hints of Jesus in His family tree. The name comes from Isaiah’s messianic prophecy:

“There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse, and a branch from his roots shall bear fruit” (Isaiah 11:1).

Each day an ornament is added to the tree, a picture or symbol to remind us of a Bible story that points to Jesus—the ram Abraham sacrificed, Jacob’s ladder, David’s crown, and so on.

In recent years, it seems like Jesse Trees have become quite popular, and there are countless resources out there to get you started. Because there are far more than 24 Old Testament types and prophecies that point to Jesus, each collection of readings and ornaments is a little different.

Last year we used Story Warren's Family Advent Art and Reading Guide (which is a FREE download and includes *gorgeous* printable ornaments) in combination with a Jesus Storybook Bible Advent reading plan (I cannot say enough about this children's Bible storybook; if you somehow haven't seen it, put it at the top of your Christmas list--even if you do not have children!).

This miniature tree sits atop our piano. Its ornaments are a hodgepodge I've cobbled together--some homemade, some found at Hobby Lobby or JoAnn, some printed and mounted to cardstock. For once in my life I have not let "perfect" be the enemy of the good! My ideas and inspiration came from Passionate Homemaking and Rocks in My Dryer. You can get as fancy or as simple as you like--and you can build your collection over the years, rather than having everything "just so" right from the start. If you don't have the time or desire to make your own, there are hundreds of options on Etsy, like this beautiful set.

In addition to the tree, an Advent wreath serves as our December table centerpiece. My wonderfully talented husband made a wooden spiral that holds 24 candles, modeled after this beautiful one designed and crafted by Ann Voskamp's son.

Each evening of December we add another candle, we move the Mary figure one space closer to the center, and we read an Old Testament story, talking about how the story points to the coming Messiah. (And, lest I paint too idyllic a picture, we try to keep our boys from fighting about who gets to blow out how many candles and who gets to hang the ornament on the tree.)

I absolutely love this new tradition. Retracing the unfolding of the Bible's one big story throughout the month keeps the Christmas season focused and builds our anticipation for Jesus' coming to earth. And I think the tactile, interactive stuff (lighting and blowing out candles, hanging ornaments) has done wonders to hold our boys' attention. They loved it last year. 

So that's why I am eagerly anticipating waiting! I can't wait to get out all our Christmas boxes after Thanksgiving break and gather once more around the stories and symbols that tell of our coming Savior. 

What Advent or Christmas traditions do you anticipate and enjoy each year? I'd love to hear about them in the comments!

More Than Anyone Dared Ask or Imagine

Recently I downloaded a few free songs from Caroline Cobb and Sean Carter on NoiseTrade. As I listened to "The Passover Song" today, I was stunned by a few of the lyrics:

There’s a poison in our veins
And it leads to death we cannot escape
Send a ransom a perfect Son
Remedy the curse with His precious blood

The plea is so audacious, it's shocking. And it immediately brought to mind Ephesians 3:20-21: "Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen."

I've always loved these verses, seeing them as beautiful promises for the future: "Pray big prayers! God can do so much more than you even dare to imagine!"

But as I listened to Cobb and Carter singing this afternoon, I realized how powerfully Ephesians 3:20-21 is rooted in what God has *already* done. Before Jesus came, who on earth ever would have dared to pray, "Send a ransom, a perfect Son / Remedy the curse with His precious blood"?! I can't fathom how such a request would even have occurred to anyone. Ask God to send His Son and sacrifice Him so that His blood could redeem us and set us free from the curse? Forbid it, Lord, that I should even think of such an outrageous solution.

Yet that's exactly what He did. He sent a ransom, His perfect Son. Jesus hung on the cross as a once-for-all remedy for the curse of sin and death, His precious blood able to cover and cleanse us who were otherwise condemned.

So as we pray now, we come to Him who proved decisively, two thousand years ago, that He not only could but actually *would* do "immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine" (v. 20, NIV). We pray to a God whose power is at work within us because He destroyed our curse with the blood of His Son. To Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever! Amen!



You can download Lent +Easter Songs on NoiseTrade for free here.

[linking up with My Words and Wonder for #firstfridayfinds]

NOT for Common Use

Upon visiting the local studio to ask for advice, I found out how much I didn’t know about dance shoes. The strappy heels I’d seen on display during our lessons weren’t merely “shoes that are good to dance in”—they were “shoes that are ONLY for dancing in.” Our instructor informed me that you never, ever wear your dance shoes outside. You bring them in a bag and put them on when it’s time to dance. They have suede soles, perfect for both spinning and traction, but also easily ruined. In other words, if I chose to purchase some ballroom dance shoes, they would most certainly not double as party shoes. If they were to retain the very features that made them good for dancing, they would have to be kept aside, reserved for special use.

A similar rationale accompanies the worship regulations described in Exodus 30. The anointing oil is sacred; God instructs Moses to use it for consecrating priests and objects within the tabernacle only. And God means business. The recipe isn’t a guarded secret; it’s clearly described here—but anyone who tries to make his own sweet-smelling oil or put the real stuff on an outsider “shall be cut off from his people” (v. 33). God’s instructions are explicit: “This shall be my holy anointing oil throughout your generations. It shall not be poured on the body of an ordinary person” (v. 31-32).

The holy incense was protected by similar regulations: Make this exactly according to instructions, and don’t you dare mix up any for your own common use. This specific blend of spices was carefully hoarded, not to be used anywhere but in the temple.

These stringent restrictions were dismantled in a stunning way a few centuries later. And after Jesus had risen again, He would do something unbelievable, something vaguely akin to letting my little niece wear my ballroom dance shoes to an outdoor princess party.

Head over to Pick Your Portion today for the rest of my reflections on Exodus 30 and the shocking way God turned His own rules upside down. 

The Stuff of Good Stories

There's a reason I don't write fiction. Ask my favorite writing professor from college, who once called my short story "flat," "tedious," "obvious" and "corny." If she'd been Southern, she definitely would have scrawled "Bless your heart" at the bottom.

That old anecdote, and my chronic inability to create believable characters, came to mind a few weeks ago as I was reading in the Old Testament and marveling at God as Master Storyteller. I am continually amazed at how these centuries-old stories virtually shout Jesus' name, if I have eyes to see it and ears to hear!

Shortly after that, I read Matthew 17 and Acts 17 back to back for my next Pick Your Portion assignment, and the repeated references to suffering brought my mind back to storytelling again. Click over to read my reflections on how God's story is infinitely better than the one I would write, because of the way He doesn't shy away from suffering like I do.

Like Father, Like Son

In many ways, Steve is just like his dad--and at Thanksgiving, he got called out on it by my five-year-old niece. That little anecdote came to mind when I read John 8 in preparation for this month's article over at Pick Your Portion. Click over for the story, the ultimate Storyteller, and a little about our favorite Christmas tradition!

Autumn Beauty

The sky today is my favorite color of blue, the crisp shade that only comes with the quality of autumn light. Our neighborhood is finally in peak color—burning bushes ablaze, ginkgos fluffy and yellow, the maple by the park lit with an otherworldly orange.

I didn’t learn until I was an adult that the trees were these colors all along. The chlorophyll hides what is always there—but when the tree finally surrenders to the dying, the beauty emerges. I guess I always imagined that the fiery fall colors were something a tree put on, sort of the botanical equivalent of a fancy red dress. But no, the green was only hiding the tree’s realest hues.

 

In a culture that places great emphasis on "being true to yourself," on discovering your identity and living authentically, on pursuing what makes you come alive, I find it fascinating that the trees tell a different story.

I don't pay much attention to the trees in our neighborhood all summer long. I am thankful to live in an old neighborhood, where the trees cast generous shade, but their greens all bleed together unremarkably. It isn't until autumn that I realize they are so very different--that this one is a sweet gum, that's a sassafras, over there is a ginkgo. Each tree's truest, most beautiful self is only revealed when it surrenders, when it dies.

"Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit" (John 12:24).

But for the trees, and for us, death is not the end--because for our Jesus, death did not have the last word.

Every autumn I remember again why this is my favorite season, and I see again how God has written His truth large and lovely on oaks and maples and tulip poplars: beauty comes through dying.

Previously in the fall (including more photos of our gorgeous neighborhood):
Contemplating Beauty
Death and Beauty
Part of the Whole
Compelled to Capture Beauty

Noticing the Good

My default mode is to look for error. I have been a perfectionist my whole life--and so my sharp eyes examine carefully to spot flaws. I easily see what's wrong, what's ugly, what doesn't work. This mistake-radar serves me well as an editor; it's less helpful as a mom, a wife, a friend.

Over the last few years, I've been reminded again and again of the need to take a second look. I must learn to see--my own life, others around me, the world at large--through a lens focused on grace. If I am skilled at finding fault, I want to become even more adept at finding beauty. This world is full of ugliness, to be sure--but it is also full of people made in God's image, full of His handiwork, full of His gifts.

I recently read Sam Crabtree's book Practicing Affirmation: God-Centered Praise of Those Who Are Not God. He makes an unconventional argument: "we rob God of praise by not pointing out his reflection in the people he has knit together in his image." Furthermore, when we affirm others, we're actually reflecting God's character ourselves. "Blessing others reflects the image of the Christian’s Father," Crabtree continues. "It’s what Christians do, because it’s what the Father does."

Failing to affirm people--being hyper-critical instead of encouraging--is not only hurtful to them but dishonoring to God. He has created every one of us in His image. And those He has redeemed are walking around with His very Spirit living inside them. If I cannot see something to celebrate and praise, I am believing the lie that He is not at work in His beloved children. I am blind.

Crabtree offers this challenge:

"Generally, our failure to affirm others is not rooted in them, but in us. So ask God for personal transformation, including the development of things like greater alertness (from a heart actively on the lookout for the image of God in others), greater humility (considering others better than yourself), and greater gratefulness (appreciating how God has surrounded you with so many echoes and reflections of himself)."

Part of the journey of "seeing Jesus"--which is only beginning as this 31 Days challenge ends--is a quest to see how He is at work in the lives of those around me. As I have been vigilant in looking for error, I must be vigilant in looking for evidence of grace.

"Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things" (Philippians 4:8).

It's about noticing. It's about taking note of the truth, the nobility, the rightness, the purity in the ordinary people and things and events in my everyday world. It's about pausing to notice the lovely in the common instead of noticing the ugly in both. It's about looking for something to admire instead of something to criticize. It's about looking for something praiseworthy instead of something to nitpick. And it's about praising the gracious, glorious Savior who is the Source of all that's good.

"Striving to affirm others puts us in the practice of looking at them positively—that is, looking for evidence of God’s work in them. Affirmation changes us before it changes them," Crabtree notes.

I am quick by nature to see what's distasteful, what's broken, what's substandard. Lord, transform my vision. Make me quick to see what's pure, true, noble, right, excellent, lovely, admirable, praiseworthy. In other words, open my eyes to see Jesus.


[This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.]

Keeping Promises

This morning I snapped at my six-year-old over missions money. Of all things.

Elijah’s school is raising money for missionaries, and I recently started having him do some chores to earn his own money to contribute. Because he has no concept of money and its value, he is over the moon about getting TEN CENTS!!! to put in his little jar—which is really precious and funny. After helping with a bunch of laundry last night, he has accumulated quite a few pennies, and to say he’s eager to take them to school would be an understatement.

So he keeps asking me: Mom, can I take the missionary money to school tomorrow? When do I get to take it? Are you going to put a lid on the jar? How will I take it to school? Can I take the missionary money?

I see no need to bag up and keep track of money every day; I planned to wait and send all that he had collected at the end of the week. But despite explaining this to Elijah, his anxious questioning persisted, to the point that I finally threatened to take money *out* of the jar every time he asked. That quickly put an end to the pestering, but this morning he started in again. “Do I get to take the missionary money in today? When can I take my missionary money?”

Already irritated because his dawdling was messing up my morning plans and making us late, I yelled at him. DO NOT ASK ME ABOUT THE MISSIONARY MONEY AGAIN! I PROMISE I WILL SEND IT TO SCHOOL WITH YOU THIS WEEK! BUT WE ARE NOT TAKING IT TODAY!

Awesome mom, huh?

The whole thing reminded me of a blog post I wrote almost four years ago, when Elijah was still a barely-verbal toddler.

Back then, I described how upset he tended to get when I didn’t immediately do what I said I was going to do. I saw that he didn’t trust me, that he needed constant reminders that I really would do what I said I would do. Again and again I had to reassure little Elijah that I wouldn’t forget my promise.

These days, it looks a lot different, but six-year-old Elijah still gets antsy when promises aren’t immediately fulfilled. He still needs those reassurances that I’ll do what I said. And four years later, this part of parenting again points me to the ultimate Keeper of Promises.

Like my son, I tend to freak out when I think my needs or desires have been forgotten. Like him, I easily overlook all the past instances of promises fulfilled, wondering if this time, God might not actually provide.

How thankful I am for my Father’s patience. Instead of lashing out at me angrily when I get antsy and fail to believe what He says, He gently repeats His promises again and again, preserving thousands of them in His Word. He remembers that I am dust, and He has compassion on my weak and fearful heart.

Oh, for grace to extend that patient, compassionate mercy to my boys—to respond to their whining and anxious nagging with gentle reassurance that Mama can be trusted, and to teach them that even when Mama fails, they can trust in the God who will never break His promises. Every single one has been written in the blood of Jesus.


Related:
Reminders of Promises


[This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.]

Multitude Monday, Take 303

For whatever reason, my practice of daily gratitude has really been on the decline for a while now. I still keep my book open on the kitchen counter 24/7, but so often I find myself scribbling down a few highlights each morning from the day before, rather than pausing throughout the day to note the gifts I receive. Is it any wonder if I am struggling to see? Better late than never, definitely, but I need to get back into the practice of opening my eyes and counting all day long.

This past week I've been thanking God for...

5731. bushy-tailed squirrels flying up and down trees
5732. husband fixing our furnace for just the cost of parts
5733. forcing me to do hard things I don't enjoy
5734. Elijah scoring a goal at his last soccer game
5735. soccer ending = getting our lives back

5736. his awesome coaches who sacrificed more than we did this season
5737. grace to apologize to Elijah
5738. his quick forgiveness
5739. time to sit and read to the boys in the midst of a chaotic day
5740. an opportunity to bless friends with a meal I know they like

5741. a text from my friend saying her two-year-old ate four bowls of the soup and raved about it :)
5742. a visit from Steve's younger brother and his girlfriend
5743. Jude's teacher's hard work in reinforcing the kids' potty learning
5744. Elijah displaying a servant heart at school
5745. POOP IN THE POTTY!!!!!

5746. frozen yogurt to celebrate the momentous occasion
5747. lunch at Mafiaoza's
5748. hiking at Radnor Lake
5749. grace to preach truth to myself, fight against resentment
5750. the boys' love for music




[This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.]

Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus

I sang this exact arrangement of "Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus" probably hundreds of times during my first two years of college--it was the standard closing song our a cappella music ministry team used for concerts. Still a favorite.

[link to YouTube in case the embedding doesn't work]

May God cause the things of this earth to grow strangely dim to you this week as you seek to turn your eyes upon His beautiful Son.

[This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.]

On Potty Training and Eternal Realities

Jude had been saying for months that when he turned three, *then* he would be a big boy and use the potty. I'm not sure where that idea originated, but we decided to run with it. Over and over in the weeks leading up to his birthday, we talked it up. On Monday, we celebrated his birthday with a zoo date and strawberry cake. On Tuesday: GAME ON.

So those of you who are parents know that Tuesday was a long day. It was high-fives and text updates to Daddy, crocodile tears and wet laundry, beeping timers and stickers, all brought to you by Lightning McQueen and Thomas the Train.

The truth is, Jude was awesome on his first day. The problem was simply that my gut reaction to potty training mirrors my gut reaction to many of the day-to-day demands of motherhood: a whiny, self-pitying "This isn't fun. This is hard. This is too much work. I don't want to do this."

Let me save you the trouble of commenting: I know that's shameful. I know how great I have it; I know there are countless women who would give anything to be enduring potty training. Yes, I know that these are blessings, not burdens, but I'm going to be honest and admit that in my selfish flesh, they don't always *feel* like blessings. My emotions, like most people's emotions, don't always follow objective reality.

Late Tuesday afternoon, with my patience wearing thin, I knew that my attitude was deplorable and I needed to shift my thinking. I asked myself: How can I see Jesus in the midst of potty training? (Is there blog fodder in all of this?)

A few thoughts came to mind:

When you have an early victory, you can't lose your head celebrating. You might get so distracted mentally composing a triumphant Facebook status that you don't even notice you're standing in a yellow puddle. In other words, "if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don't fall!" (1 Corinthians 10:12, NIV).

You will have successes and you will have failures, and you get to choose how to frame both. You can say, "The black Xs now outnumber the Cars stickers on the potty chart. This is horrible." Or you can say, "We have some hits in between all those misses! Not bad for the first day!" In other words, this life is a long obedience in the same direction, and we can celebrate every baby step of progress along the way.

In the moment, the work doesn't seem worth it. Diapers would be SO much easier, right? No pleading with reluctant, scared children...no setting timers and making dozens of bathroom trips...no frantic hunts for public restrooms...no changing clothes several times a day...no puddles on the floor...you just go on with your life, and change a few diapers along the way.

But over the long haul, no one questions the merits of potty-training. I still sometimes marvel when my six-year-old recognizes the urge, goes to the bathroom, and wipes himself without any assistance from me. It is so wonderful! So you have to keep the bigger picture in mind; you have to keep reminding yourself how good it's going to be someday.

And the crazy thing is, someday all this work will be a distant memory. When we were in the midst of Elijah's potty-learning, tracking his progress was all-consuming. Suffice to say that the process was a long, drawn-out nightmare.

What amazes me now is that I can't even recount the dramatic details. I remember that it was awful, but I can't even recall the timeline of when exactly he learned to pee and how much longer it took for the pooping, or how old he was before he could stay dry overnight. At the time, it was overwhelming and seemed like it would never end; in hindsight, the memories are fuzzy and unimportant, even a little bit funny.

And so that's why I'm here being honest about my selfish laziness and reminding myself of the truth. In the moment, hard work of any kind almost never seems worth it. My flesh whines, "I don't WANNA! It's not FUN! It's too HARD!" (Hmm, sounds just like my three-year-old!) But in the end? "I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us" (Romans 8:18). And yes, I fully recognize the big-picture ridiculousness of calling potty training "suffering," so if you'd prefer, there's this:

"For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal" (2 Corinthians 4:17-18).

The truth is that Jesus is so glorious and Heaven so real that ANY affliction we endure now--be it the obviously "light and momentary" woes of potty-training, or the unimaginable, lifelong sufferings that seem crushing and unending--ALL of it is going to fade when we see Him face to face.

Jesus is the one who endured real suffering and affliction. He is the one who did the work and made the sacrifice that would have destroyed me. And when I fall at His feet, I won't be thinking of even the hardest things He asked me to do. If anything, I'll wish I could have done more in response to His great love. 

So as I look with my physical eyes on a red potty chair and adorably tiny briefs, I'm still trying to train my spiritual eyes to look up. This life with its trials and joys is but a breath, and I will enjoy it so much more if I focus now on what will matter eternally--if my thoughts are consumed with His sacrifice instead of my own. 


[This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.]

Failure and Perspective

We are in the throes of potty-learning over here, and the need for constant vigilance has overruled my need to write. To be honest, I'm frustrated that I haven't been able to keep up blogging this week; I'm still overwhelmed with trying to figure out how to juggle All The Things.

Potty training, believe it or not, has provided plenty of fodder for a blog post on seeing Jesus...but at 11:19PM, I'm pretty sure everyone in my family would be better served if I went to bed instead of working on a coherent post about it. I'm still just as much a night owl as I was in high school and college, but the difference is, I can't sleep in like I used to be able to back then--and when I stay up late, although I feel fine at the time, I pay for it over the next several days.

I could get discouraged about my failure to accomplish this 31 Days challenge. But I think a better perspective is to realize that while I have not blogged 23 times this month, I *have* blogged about three times as much as I would have if I hadn't been attempting the challenge.

As I have preached to myself and encouraged others dozens of times over the last several months, we can get discouraged about how far we have to go and how huge our screw-ups have been, or we can acknowledge how far we've come and celebrate progress no matter how small the steps.

So with that...good night. I'm hoping to get in some good writing time tomorrow while Jude's Mom's Day Out teacher deals with the hourly bathroom trips :)


[This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.] 

Multitude Monday, Take 302

As I do most Mondays, I'm beginning this week by counting a few of the ways I've seen the kindness, generosity, sovereignty, wisdom, and love of Jesus in my life recently, through blessings such as...

5699. my very favorite blond boy, and the THREE years God has given us with him! (more on that later this week, I hope)
5700. time outside in gorgeous fall weather
5701. the openness, honesty and vulnerability of old friends and new friends
5702. being able to rest in knowing "He's got this"--it does not depend on me saying or doing all the right things
5703. His servanthood--not abusing authority and loading heavy burdens on people, but bearing our burdens, loving and sacrificing for us

5704. the return of soup season
5705. soups I made last winter out of the freezer and onto the table--so little effort for a wholesome dinner!
5706. the audiobook we checked out from the library but somehow never brought home was FOUND back on the library shelf!
5707. the boys' over-the-top enthusiasm about breakfast for dinner
5708. Jude's first trip to the dentist: AMAZINGLY easy, so so so so much better than Elijah's first or second or third!

 

5709. no cavities for any of us
5710. a pizza lunch with both boys after our checkups
5711. the first trees starting to turn
5712. people who thanklessly clean public bathrooms
5713. the miracle of flight

5714. a weekend with a dear, dear friend and her family

 

5715. crisp apples
5716. a field trip to the pumpkin patch

 

5717. homemade blackberry wine
5718. figuring out how to tone down my chili recipe and finding it much more enjoyable

5719. Jude, out of the blue when I couldn't find my phone: "God knows where your phone is." !
5720. a phone chat with Steve's granny
5721. tomatoes at the farmers' market unexpectedly
5722. the ability to do mental math and convert/substitute recipes
5723. five families at my church signing up to sponsor six children through Compassion International! (more on that later this week too!)

5724. a zoo date with Jude today for his birthday

5725. carousel operator giving him a second ride free
5726. crazy monkeys, loud and showing off
5727. hot coffee
5728. ending the evening with a sweet friend

5729. evidence of God's work in her heart
5730. her serving me by helping clean up my disaster of a kitchen while we talked



[This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.]

Where Justice and Mercy Meet

A final thought from 1 Kings 21:

One way to summarize the meaning of this chapter would be to say that God sees all that men do and is greatly angered by their idolatry and sin. He will bring disaster and destruction on those who do evil--they won't get away with it in the end. Yet even in His judgment, He often shows mercy.

This foreshadows the day when justice and mercy will meet perfectly in the execution of Jesus--who received neither, so that we could enjoy both.


Related:
Justice and Mercy
Just and Merciful from the Beginning
Justice and Mercy at the Cross


[This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.]