Father~
Please don't let me be blind to my sin. Please don't let me be comfortable in my sin. Please don't let me despair in my sin. Thank you, thank you, thank you for Christ's victory over my sin.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Love For Example...
I love finding things that have been lost. Today I had just such a joy. I found a little packet I made filled with all the letters, trinkets, and mementos from my courtship with Ron. I haven't seen it or had any clue where it could have gone in almost three years. My mind believed it to be gone forever. My heart held out hope, as hearts are known to do, that somehow someday it would resurface. Much to the delight of my inner dreamy, mushy girl, my heart was right! I have spent Afton's nap reading all those sweet, sweet words and remembering those sweet, sweet times. I would never cheapen a love note by sharing it publicly, but there was something in my little packet that I do want to share with others. It is a quote on love that I found in a most unlikely place - a book on religion in ancient Mesopotamia. Strange yes, but there it was in the middle of one of most boring books I have ever read part of, the best description of the emotion of love that I have ever heard. I read it just before Ron and I fell in love. I wrote it on a napkin and tacked it to a cork board in my room. When I moved out to get married I tucked it away with all my love letters, forgotten until today. It describes my feelings for Ron now as accurately as it did back then:
"Love for example, innate and irrational, it irresistibly pushes each one of us toward "another", someone in whom we obscurely sense a sort of enrichment indispensable to our lives, a necessary complement to ourselves, whom we must seek out and obtain regardless of all opposition."
~ Jean Bottero, Religion In Ancient Mesopotamia
"Love for example, innate and irrational, it irresistibly pushes each one of us toward "another", someone in whom we obscurely sense a sort of enrichment indispensable to our lives, a necessary complement to ourselves, whom we must seek out and obtain regardless of all opposition."
~ Jean Bottero, Religion In Ancient Mesopotamia
Friday, October 5, 2007
T.H.I.N.K.
My tongue is most definitely, when left to its own devices, indeed, a deadly poison. Poisonous to me, to those around me, and most heart-breakingly to those I love most. In God's grace I am at least aware of this and have long desired that in Him I may someday find it in full compliance with the "law of kindness". One of the best tools God has blessed me with in this quest is a little acrostic I learned in college: T.H.I.N.K.
On a small side note, acrostics and other such practical tools are powerless idols apart from a reliance on the grace of God and the righteousness and sacrifice of Christ. I am so thankful that sanctification is God's work. He has started it and he will finish it. Praise be to Him! Still, Christians using practical means as they seek to submit to God's ways in no way diminishes the fact that it is God working in them to will and to do his pleasure. On the contrary, it is an evidence that such work is taking place. My point is that while sanctification, like childbirth, is truly miraculous, it is also very practical. I believe that practical human tools that help us grow in obedience are a tremendous blessing when used in faith and with the understanding that there is no righteousness apart from Christ.
Anyway, back to T.H.I.N.K. Thinking before you speak is easier said than done, but that is an entirely different subject. Supposing you actually have remembered to think before your words are unleashed, this acrostic is meant to help you decide what is worth saying. Things that are worth saying are:
True
Helpful
Inspiring
Necessary
Kind
It is not perfect, but it has been very, very helpful to me. I have learned, though, that most of my sins of speech have not come from being unable to discern what is worth saying, but being unable (unwilling?) to discern what is not worth saying. If I turn T.H.I.N.K. on its head I see there is a lot to be learned about what is better left unsaid. Things that are not worth saying are:
Untrue. I ought not say things I know to be false or partially false. I ought not present as facts things I only think to be true. In fact things I only think to be true may be better left unsaid all together, or stated only as hopes or concerns to my Heavenly Father or to a close and trusted love one.
Hindering. If something I want to say will make it more difficult for my hearer to lead the life the Lord has assigned to him then I better not say it.
Demoralizing. There is no place in Christian speech for the intentional or careless crushing of another's spirit. Complaining, even commiserating, is a big demoralizer that often masquerades as compassion or sympathy.
Non Value Adding. The "N" in T.H.I.N.K. can be very confusing. When I think of "necessary" in terms of life and death then very few words can pass the test. Fire! and Duck! are the only two that come to mind right now. But I think "necessary" is best understood as "value adding". Necessary words are words that actually contribute to the hearer's knowledge, understanding, or enjoyment. Knock, knock jokes can be "necessary" in a car full of bored children. Saying "It's cold." in a room full of shivering adults is an example of something that is not necessary. Inane statements made solely to hear my own voice, to draw attention to myself, or to fill silence add no value to the conversation and are truly unnecessary -- not worth saying.
Unkind. There is not much to elaborate on here. I shouldn't say things that are unkind. I know what kindness and unkindness are. Seeking a specific adult definition would just be me looking for a loophole I can use to slip in words that I know better than to say. Recognizing kindness and unkindness is child's play. Living day to day in kindness takes nothing less than the dying to one's self and dying again and again.
There is much more that can and should be said about the the Christian and her tongue. This is just a little something that has helped and continues to help me. Taming the tongue has been one of the fiercest battles of my life. It is Christ's battle win.
On a small side note, acrostics and other such practical tools are powerless idols apart from a reliance on the grace of God and the righteousness and sacrifice of Christ. I am so thankful that sanctification is God's work. He has started it and he will finish it. Praise be to Him! Still, Christians using practical means as they seek to submit to God's ways in no way diminishes the fact that it is God working in them to will and to do his pleasure. On the contrary, it is an evidence that such work is taking place. My point is that while sanctification, like childbirth, is truly miraculous, it is also very practical. I believe that practical human tools that help us grow in obedience are a tremendous blessing when used in faith and with the understanding that there is no righteousness apart from Christ.
Anyway, back to T.H.I.N.K. Thinking before you speak is easier said than done, but that is an entirely different subject. Supposing you actually have remembered to think before your words are unleashed, this acrostic is meant to help you decide what is worth saying. Things that are worth saying are:
True
Helpful
Inspiring
Necessary
Kind
It is not perfect, but it has been very, very helpful to me. I have learned, though, that most of my sins of speech have not come from being unable to discern what is worth saying, but being unable (unwilling?) to discern what is not worth saying. If I turn T.H.I.N.K. on its head I see there is a lot to be learned about what is better left unsaid. Things that are not worth saying are:
Untrue. I ought not say things I know to be false or partially false. I ought not present as facts things I only think to be true. In fact things I only think to be true may be better left unsaid all together, or stated only as hopes or concerns to my Heavenly Father or to a close and trusted love one.
Hindering. If something I want to say will make it more difficult for my hearer to lead the life the Lord has assigned to him then I better not say it.
Demoralizing. There is no place in Christian speech for the intentional or careless crushing of another's spirit. Complaining, even commiserating, is a big demoralizer that often masquerades as compassion or sympathy.
Non Value Adding. The "N" in T.H.I.N.K. can be very confusing. When I think of "necessary" in terms of life and death then very few words can pass the test. Fire! and Duck! are the only two that come to mind right now. But I think "necessary" is best understood as "value adding". Necessary words are words that actually contribute to the hearer's knowledge, understanding, or enjoyment. Knock, knock jokes can be "necessary" in a car full of bored children. Saying "It's cold." in a room full of shivering adults is an example of something that is not necessary. Inane statements made solely to hear my own voice, to draw attention to myself, or to fill silence add no value to the conversation and are truly unnecessary -- not worth saying.
Unkind. There is not much to elaborate on here. I shouldn't say things that are unkind. I know what kindness and unkindness are. Seeking a specific adult definition would just be me looking for a loophole I can use to slip in words that I know better than to say. Recognizing kindness and unkindness is child's play. Living day to day in kindness takes nothing less than the dying to one's self and dying again and again.
There is much more that can and should be said about the the Christian and her tongue. This is just a little something that has helped and continues to help me. Taming the tongue has been one of the fiercest battles of my life. It is Christ's battle win.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
The Prayer of St. Francis
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understoood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understoood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Be Faithful.
"O mothers of young children, I bow before you in reverence. Your work is most holy. You are fashioning the destinies of immortal souls. The powers folded up in the little ones that you hushed to sleep in your bosoms last night are powers that shall exist forever. You are preparing them for their immortal destiny and influence. Be faithful. Take up your sacred burden reverently. Be sure that your heart is pure and your life is sweet and clean. The Persian apologue says that the lump of clay was fragrant because it had lain on a rose. Let your life be as the rose, and then your child as it lies upon your bosom will absorb the fragrance. If there is no sweetness in the rose the clay will not be perfumed."~ J.R. Miller, Home-Making
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Life Is Only as Boring as the Person Who Lives It
When I left my job as a bank teller to begin my career as a home-based wife and mother three weeks before our first daughter was born, I was inundated with concerns about my being bored. Upon hearing my plans to leave the work world for the home world people from as many different demographics as you can think of would respond with one form or another of the same question, "Do you think you will be bored?" I would fashion a polite response each time, appropriately crafted for the particular asker, but my heart's silent answer was the same every time. "Are you out of your mind?! Why on earth would I be bored?" I could think of nothing more exciting (not boring) than being free of the necessity of being employed. Never having been career oriented, work for me was never thrilling, always a little oppressive, and at its very best bearable. Being home equaled freedom in my eyes and one thing I knew was that freedom wasn't boring.
Those first three weeks at home I proved myself right. I had plenty to do. Clean my house like I had always wanted, run errands during business hours, read a book, sit down and get off of my nine months pregnant feet, whatever came to mind. I was not bored. I had no employer to make demands on my time and I was doing what I wanted to from moment to moment. I was not bored at all.
Though I was thoroughly enjoying myself those three weeks passed slowly, as I suppose all weeks in the ninth month of pregnancy do. I remember thinking often, if I have so much to do now and am having such a good time imagine how much better it will be when we add a baby to the mix. I couldn't wait. And when I had waited longer than I thought I could, she came. After twenty-nine hours of labor, two failed epidurals, and a superbly executed C-section, Ron was handed (my arms were numb and unable to move) the most beautiful baby we had ever seen - our daughter Afton Adele.
We loved her instantly and forever at the same time. She was glorious, looking up at us with a very put out expression on her face. Nothing was ever going to be the same. We stayed at the hospital a few days, took her home, entertained a myriad of doting family members, and had our lives spin wildly, deliriously, but very happily out of control. Then the visitors left, we got used to the idea that we were solely responsible for the care of this darling little girl, we grew in confidence, and we fell from the chaos down into a steady routine. Our lives returned to some form of normalcy, though not the normalcy we had previously known. It was a new normal, but it was normal nonetheless.
It was not long after this return to normalcy that something startling happened. I sat on my couch one day rocking Afton back in forth on my legs in a position we have come to call "leg cradle". I looked around my silent house and looked down at my beautiful daughter, whom I loved so much, but who was too young yet to respond to me in any way but to cry if I put her down and moved on to another activity. Suddenly I recognized a feeling that had been with me for a couple of days. I couldn't believe it. I was bored. How could this be? I was so disappointed to acknowledge that that ignoble slug boredom was inching its way into my heart. How could I be bored doing exactly what I had always wanted to do? Then, with that question, it clicked. It was a matter of perspective, as many things are.
In the small details of life I was no longer doing exactly what I wanted to do. I had a brand new little girl, with a brand new little soul, and I was the one God had chosen to meet her every need. Meeting a brand new little girl's every need meant a lot of the little things I wanted to do had to wait....and sometimes wait and wait. It meant sometimes pacing back and forth across a room over and over again to calm my baby. It meant an awful of leg cradle. As hard and painful as it is for this adoring mother to admit it is true. Pacing gets.....boring. Leg cradle is.....boring. Being at home alone all day with an unresponsive newborn can be.....boring.
But that is when you are looking at all the tiny, tiny pixels of the big picture. And what of the big picture itself? Ahh, in that picture, during those quiet moments of leg cradle and the many others like them, I was then, more than I ever had before, doing exactly what I had always wanted. I was raising the darling child who was born out of the love I share with a righteous and good man, the kindest and best I have ever known. Just writing that sentence infused my soul with exhilaration, which as you must know, is an opposite of boredom. And having that realization those many weeks ago had the same effect.
Sure leg cradle might not have been exactly what I wanted to do at the time, but it was exactly what I wanted to do at the time. Read that sentence again. You'll get it. It's, just like I said, a matter of perspective. So from that moment on, when the day to day tasks of caring for my daughter (who has grown into a fun and friendly three month old now) start to feel a bit dull and cumbersome, I remind myself, "Hey, this is exactly what you want to be doing!" Then I smile at the truth in that statement and carry on in joy.
On a practical note, I have also realized there is nothing wrong with catching up on a little Matlock during leg cradle. It's the little things that'll get you through the little things that make those big things you dream of possible.
Those first three weeks at home I proved myself right. I had plenty to do. Clean my house like I had always wanted, run errands during business hours, read a book, sit down and get off of my nine months pregnant feet, whatever came to mind. I was not bored. I had no employer to make demands on my time and I was doing what I wanted to from moment to moment. I was not bored at all.
Though I was thoroughly enjoying myself those three weeks passed slowly, as I suppose all weeks in the ninth month of pregnancy do. I remember thinking often, if I have so much to do now and am having such a good time imagine how much better it will be when we add a baby to the mix. I couldn't wait. And when I had waited longer than I thought I could, she came. After twenty-nine hours of labor, two failed epidurals, and a superbly executed C-section, Ron was handed (my arms were numb and unable to move) the most beautiful baby we had ever seen - our daughter Afton Adele.
We loved her instantly and forever at the same time. She was glorious, looking up at us with a very put out expression on her face. Nothing was ever going to be the same. We stayed at the hospital a few days, took her home, entertained a myriad of doting family members, and had our lives spin wildly, deliriously, but very happily out of control. Then the visitors left, we got used to the idea that we were solely responsible for the care of this darling little girl, we grew in confidence, and we fell from the chaos down into a steady routine. Our lives returned to some form of normalcy, though not the normalcy we had previously known. It was a new normal, but it was normal nonetheless.
It was not long after this return to normalcy that something startling happened. I sat on my couch one day rocking Afton back in forth on my legs in a position we have come to call "leg cradle". I looked around my silent house and looked down at my beautiful daughter, whom I loved so much, but who was too young yet to respond to me in any way but to cry if I put her down and moved on to another activity. Suddenly I recognized a feeling that had been with me for a couple of days. I couldn't believe it. I was bored. How could this be? I was so disappointed to acknowledge that that ignoble slug boredom was inching its way into my heart. How could I be bored doing exactly what I had always wanted to do? Then, with that question, it clicked. It was a matter of perspective, as many things are.
In the small details of life I was no longer doing exactly what I wanted to do. I had a brand new little girl, with a brand new little soul, and I was the one God had chosen to meet her every need. Meeting a brand new little girl's every need meant a lot of the little things I wanted to do had to wait....and sometimes wait and wait. It meant sometimes pacing back and forth across a room over and over again to calm my baby. It meant an awful of leg cradle. As hard and painful as it is for this adoring mother to admit it is true. Pacing gets.....boring. Leg cradle is.....boring. Being at home alone all day with an unresponsive newborn can be.....boring.
But that is when you are looking at all the tiny, tiny pixels of the big picture. And what of the big picture itself? Ahh, in that picture, during those quiet moments of leg cradle and the many others like them, I was then, more than I ever had before, doing exactly what I had always wanted. I was raising the darling child who was born out of the love I share with a righteous and good man, the kindest and best I have ever known. Just writing that sentence infused my soul with exhilaration, which as you must know, is an opposite of boredom. And having that realization those many weeks ago had the same effect.
Sure leg cradle might not have been exactly what I wanted to do at the time, but it was exactly what I wanted to do at the time. Read that sentence again. You'll get it. It's, just like I said, a matter of perspective. So from that moment on, when the day to day tasks of caring for my daughter (who has grown into a fun and friendly three month old now) start to feel a bit dull and cumbersome, I remind myself, "Hey, this is exactly what you want to be doing!" Then I smile at the truth in that statement and carry on in joy.
On a practical note, I have also realized there is nothing wrong with catching up on a little Matlock during leg cradle. It's the little things that'll get you through the little things that make those big things you dream of possible.
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