Encompassing Love

When you love someone, truly love them, you cherish their light
Love reveres and illuminates the divine facets of their being
It is the business of love to magnify every alluring portion of their nature
This unfathomable adoration determines, without prompting, to overwhelm their darkness

Love's power is revealed in weakness
Unquestionably motivated by their captivating traits, love obscures ugliness
It does not deny the existence of shortcomings, rather it serves as a patient, constant mirror of their beauty
Love purposes to affect their darkness, to lessen its intensity, its duration
Love runs headlong into adversity with its own crystalline fury
Resolved to confirm their value

It is impossible for love to do anything less than this

Bearing Our Burdens Well in Christian Community

I am experiencing great turbulence in life right now. This is my attempt to make some sense of it for myself. I have been dealing with this deep inner turmoil for the better part of two years now. I have not shared with many people about the war that I carry inside. Until recently…recently I decided that the people that I care about, family and friends need to know about my burden.

I am a big advocate of faith communities; specific to my experience is the Church. I love the Church and all she represents, scripture calls her Christ’s bride.

Let us rejoice and exult

    and give him the glory!

For the marriage of the Lamb has come,

    and his bride has made herself ready.

 Fine linen, bright and clean,

    was given her to wear.

(Rev. 19:7-8)

The imagery of a bride is particularly poignant for me as my experience with church is overwhelmingly positive. I have watched in awe His bride clothed in the willing and faithful service of people dedicated to actively loving a faith community and beyond it. They adoringly boast and prepare for their Bridegroom.

The believers and seekers who make up the Church are each broken individuals with weaknesses and daily struggles, gathered with a common genuine desire to reach others with the love of Christ we become partners, indispensable to one another in love and loss, peace and conflict. A growing number of people do not trust the Church, and while there are sure to be thousands of good reasons to dislike a community made entirely of imperfect people, I think there is a basic fundamental impediment to deeper roots in community: fear of vulnerability.

In my experience with people who are unhappy with the church, the reason often involves a mishandled conflict. Someone's pain was not handled thoughtfully enough, or worse, it was ignored altogether.  We may be inclined to look to Church leadership to examine how conflict is resolved, but the real culprit can be our unwillingness to be vulnerable with our emotional and spiritual needs. We are terrified of judgment.

To be fair, the fear of judgement which renders authentic vulnerability in relationships nearly impossible is a result of so many horror stories specific to Christian communities. I was recently involved in a ministry that visits strippers to tell them they are loved by Christ. The ministry exists because strippers picked up the idea somewhere that sinners can't go to church.  They are not the only ones who believe they are not welcome in church.

Thankfully I am a part of an extraordinary group of believers in my Life Group, and they have been a shining example of how to handle someone's vulnerability.   I shared my war with them face to face, and as they listened thoughtfully I saw some eyes watering, and I lost my composure. I am still grateful for the tender and loving way they received my sacred shame.

We see how community conflict should be addressed in Matthew 18. We have a hard enough time with the first step, which simply says that when we have beef with someone in the church we are to take it directly to that person. I experienced conflict with a pastor at my church.  When confronted, his response was nothing less than honorable and appropriate.

Church leadership became aware of the problem and took swift corrective action. It was anything but comfortable, but I never doubted their love and concern for me and for the church as a whole. They discreetly navigated the difficult line between being truthful and open about personal transgression and policing the damage of poisonous gossip that can suffocate and destroy churches.

Stories of churches handling hard things well need to be told. Protecting our faith communities is important. But the only faith communities worth protecting are those in which real vulnerability with one another's darkness is fostered.  We should not white-wash our pain. Walk away from anyone who tries to clean up, downplay or disregard your pain and doubt and fear.

Humans should not participate in communities of faith and only present our facades for cleansing. This is a real thing, people place their faith in symbols, and if our churches represent themselves as pristine palaces of virtue rather than support groups then we are already killing the realest part of ourselves that desperately yearns for delicate handling, for understanding and encouragement.

HEAR THIS, friends: we cannot experience the joy of true friendship without bearing our wounds. Allow others to dress your tender spots so that you can experience the fullness intended for loving relationship. We were made to seek the love and care of others and to give it in return. There is great joy and freedom in trusting that our brokenness is safe in God's communities.  There is courage in vulnerability that breeds security.

I ultimately decided it is healthier for me to attend a different church, and God is blessing that decision. I still get emails, phone calls, text messages and invitations from what I will always consider my first church family telling me how treasured and prayed for I am.

Things that make me confident in the future of Christian community; the love, concern, and gentle admonishment of loved ones, the enduring restraint against temptation of church leadership, and the delicate discipline of a loving church government.  I am so grateful for these things and more during my trials. My humble spirit thankfully receives the beauty of the gospel we share.

His Bride, My Family

Youth camp; first off, an oceanfront beach resort is hardly a camp. No bugs, sand replaces mud, and sunscreen and tanned skin replaces grass stains and sweat. Well, there was still sweat, but you get where I am going. I was fortunate enough to help coordinate this year's youth camp (or luxurious beach week, we'll call it) at my church, and I am stunned into submission. I surrender. Our church can have me, it can just keep me. 

You know the scripture about the members of one body in 1 Cor. 12? Surprise, it's a real thing. I've seen it many times; I am reminded of my amazing Life Group family, the Band of Believers, and our church staff, and now the youth camp crew. There were people loading and unloading and setting up heavy staging, sound, and lighting equipment, people painstakingly preparing breakfast, lunch, and dinner for 200 people, people leading, mentoring, and loving on the youth, and people planning and executing worship, beach games, and many other fruitful activities for these students. The kicker? They did so with smiles; no complaints. They were happy to serve in these ways. I am blown away. Gratitude and awe are not strong enough words for the feeling of fulfillment I have. 

Messages were brought. The camp theme, "MORE", described the unintelligible greatness of our God. Next Generation Pastor Jerry Alan Witte, the man with the plan from whom this camp theme was birthed, guest speaker Wes Aarum, our Pastor Randy Hahn, and Discipleship Pastor James Ford each spoke truth and inspiration and life into the group daily. In the intimate setting, it was fitting to hear personal stories that mirror biblical truths. Maybe this stuff IS relevant. Maybe we should listen up, give God's Word our attention.

What moved me the most was two things that go hand in hand. Things that cannot be faked nor forced. The first is the respect and positive behavior of the students who attended. These are good kids. They love one another and they love The Lord and I am impressed by their maturity. There was very little drama, and I mean it when I say I am SUPER. GLAD. FOR. MINIMAL. DRAMA. Ohmagolly am I glad. The other thing I will be forever grateful for are the relationships made and solidified during this short time. God expanded my family. He did. Family is a big ole fat deal to me, and my family grew significantly on this trip. Oh, I fell in love with some new friends and grew even more fond of old ones. We looked forward to seeing each other each day and wanted to help each other, to dance and laugh and serve together and to make one another smile. That's God. Only He does that. 

To my #youthcampMORE friends, I love you and look forward to the next journey.

Show Me the Parent Who Thinks They Are Doing it Right

Tonight I glanced down to the kids at the foot of my bed. Maia took all her clothes off, again. Noah had a huge portion of my comforter in his mouth. Before I could properly admonish anyone I hear the familiar sound of water streaming onto my carpet. I literally JUST let the dogs out. Are you kidding? 

Is it harder to parent kids when you are sick just because you are zapped of all your energy and just generally find everything bothersome, or do kids, like conversations saved for when you are on the phone, save their strangest and most needy behavior for when you are sick? I hate summer colds. But more than anything, I hate to be sub-par for the 3 hours a day during the week that I get to hang out with my boos. I truly look forward to those hours. Then have had my fill after 15 minutes, but thats not the point. I have BIG PLANS for the twilight of the day, from 6-9 when my attention is literally all they need to feel fulfilled and loved and grow into happy, healthy, productive people. 

Or not. I am not saying that my efforts as their parent have no bearing on their perceptions of their selves and the world around them, it certainly does. But I get a little frustrated when I try to shelter them from the darkness in the world that abounds. I filter what they are exposed to in my care to keep them little for as long as possible. They have their whole lives to deal with the anxiety and weight of reality. 

When I ask Noah about his day today, he proceded to recount his zombie game. But he quickly corrected himself, "No, not zombies, I mean we played that we loved each other." Which is straight out of my mouth...when I hear him playing and everything is all explosions and "die" this and 'I'm gonna kick you" that I say "Noah, I know you are havng fun playnig good guy bad guy, but sometimes it is good to practice pretending to show love to one another, because that can be fun too, dont you love it when your friends do something nice for you?" 

So, back to the zombie/love fest fib...I made sure to let him know that I would much rather him tell me the truth about something I dont like than lie to me to make me like what he says. Where is that line between sheltering them too much, and setting boundaries and rules that are so rigid that your kids just try to fake it for you, and letting them do what they want and be who they are? Sill looking for that one. 

Then there is Maia who has taken to this new bear. She has always been my attachment-item child. She takes this bear everywhere. Tonight I hear her talking to the bear, "Is that cool? Isn't that so cool?" And she does this thing where every word she says to me she furrows her brow and gives it an extra syllable and puts -aah at the end. (Read: Nooo-aaah; pleassseee-aaah)  Everything she does lately comes from someone other than me. I wonder who says cool at the daycare. She plays shy child, and doesnt talk and plays coy. There is nothing wrong with it, just what do I do with that? So far I am going with the 'ignore it' method, and that's what I'll try until something worse develops. 

When my kids behave in a way that is the opposite of what I have taught them, I take it personally. A direct hit on my parenting skills. I know each parent has a different default response when their kids get into trouble. When mine do, I don't get defensive, I ask a LOT of questions, give it time, and usually  just get really offended that he didn't listen to me. Maia is young for this yet, but I have a feeling she is saving it all up for a time really soon. Reading it now is sounds so ego-centric and unhelpful. I also discipline and talk with the kid, but I doubt myself constantly. If he didn't listen to the lesson before, why would I think he'll respond to disciplinary techniques?

A friend gave me good advice the other day that I am trying to heed. I have to remember that God made my kids. He knows them better than me and has a plan for them which their little characters are perfect for; good, bad, and ugly. I did not make them the way that they are. All I can do is give them tools to sharpen the good and buff out the bad and teach them to develop good habits. And pray. A lot. Lord help me. 

And this is just the beginning. 

 

 Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.

~Proverbs 22:6

Godspeak

Today I experienced the loveliest demonstration of divine intervention. Boy, when you start a story out that way, you really have to deliver…but I think I can. This is a perfect example of how God shows up in the most subtle ways. His language is all too easy to overlook; foreign to many.  Without open hearts and minds that are trained and sensitive to his communication, we could miss the best moments of our lives.  

Last night, I’m being a responsible adult mom, making treats for about 20 VBS (Vacation Bible School) volunteers at my church. I made two types of s’mores treats, 2 dozen mini-muffin sized treats and a dozen regular cupcake sized ones, you know, because I had leftover ingredients and we can’t waste. That’d be tragic. Mistake #1: I baked a snack (without a recipe) that I have never made before. That’s right, I dreamed something up that I thought would taste good and executed it with my limited baking understanding for some of the world’s best VBS mommy volunteers.

 

I made them right before bed, during my 15 sacred minutes between child bedtime routines and when I pass out from exhaustion, pulled them out of the oven and set them, covered, on top of the stove, then turned in for the night. Note: All my SAHM (stay at home mom) friends who have been here before, because everyone has to start somehwere, and my wonderful ladies who just enjoy baking know where this story is going. Needless to say, when I awoke I discovered that my yummy mini-muffin s’mores treats had become sticky caramelized marshmallow taffy treats that may have been good if advertised as candy except that they looked like someone had regurgitated them. Not using those.

 

I checked my cupcake-sized s’mores, those looked edible. So I grabbed them on my way out the door. Let’s not forget that I didn’t grab shoes because I have 16 pair in my car, (Mistake #2) so I’ll throw some on later. When I pull into my space at church, however, I remember that I cleaned out my car last night. No shoes. I fought with myself for a minute about what to do. I am already rendering an offering of a dozen potentially disgusting treats to a group of 20 or so super-moms. Would it be the nail in my coolness-coffin to deliver them barefoot?  I decided it’s church, and we bring our good, bad, and ugly here. On the way in I dropped 2 of them, so now that’s approximately half the needed amount of treats. I’m on a roll.

People were nice; they smiled and laughed with me about my shoes and my not so great treats. Fast forward to exiting the church engrossed in self-doubt and shame, I am now worried about the treats that I just dropped off. Thinking about the people who will be trying them, asking who brought them, and dreaming of someone choking on it or spitting it out and throwing it away…’they would have just not brought anything’. Just then I caught a glimpse of a familiar face. Radiant, smiling; I recognized it as the face of a young woman with children who learned recently that she has a rare and serious form of cancer with a low survival rate. She is a member of my church and a recent video testimony of this learning process in her faith life has gone viral among locals.  I didn’t even have to think about it, I started after her and said “Ma’am?”

She turned around. It could have been awkward, or forced. It could have seemed trite and intrusive. There are so many ways that our impromptu conversation may have gone, but it was natural, and surreal and heavenly. I tell her that I’ve seen her video and hug her and thank her for her strength, for sharing her story of pain and darkness and realizing that she has a purpose, a Godly purpose for this trial. She tells me she feels as though God is carrying her. That now, all she feels is blessed when she wakes up each day. We hug, and smile, and love each other like we are sisters. And we are. We are heavenly sisters, whose spirits yearn for our home and we don’t even recognize it because our bodies are so heavy on this earth that they overpower our upward longing.

 

Looking back, I am surprised that people passing by didn’t stop and watch in awe of the aura of light coming surrounding our union. It sounds dramatic, but it was dramatic. It was a brief moment of such clarity and peace and love, one that can only come from God. And it changed my perspective on the day, on this whole week.

My life, filled with trepidation about the opening of a new restaurant, and missing my husband as he leads that process, and balancing service to my church family, and job, and kids, and friends, and those in need and struggling with illness…the list goes on. But it seems we all have a similar list, I am reminded that it’s not our circumstances that define us, rather how we handle them.

The most interesting part is not how natural our meeting was, it’s how it happened. God spoke to me this morning, not in words, but by a divine appointment that I recognized I was meant for. If I had not recognized that I should speak with my new friend this wonderful, unforgettable and pivotal moment in my existence would never have happened. God doesn’t speak with a resounding thunderous voice in my head. He speaks in moments. These God moments are not coincidence. They are the deliberate manner in which God speaks to his children who have ‘ears to hear.’ Practice listening. You’ll be surprised what you find.

But blessed are your eyes because they see, and your ears because they hear.  For truly I tell you, many prophets and righteous people longed to see what you see but did not see it, and to hear what you hear but did not hear it.           

   ~Matthew 13:16-17

Slow Down and Live

The day before yesterday I worked, went to soccer practice, took dinner to a friend, dropped kids with mom, decorated the church for VBS, picked up the kids, took them home and put them into bed. They slept the whole ride home, so I was elated to skip bedtime drama. However, mid-delectable-nightcap-ice cream-bite, my toddler quietly snuck into the kitchen and said, “Mommy I can’t sleep unless you come lay with me. I want to watch a movie.” How do I say no? I haven’t seen her all day. So away I go, forfeiting my quiet time to fall asleep in a twin bed watching Brave.  My Monday and Tuesday were similar with odd jobs and errands and obligations all day long into the evening, so I haven’t spent much time at home this week at all.

As you can imagine, I was so thankful to have NOTHING planned yesterday after work. Never mind that we don’t get home until 6, and the kids’ bedtime starts at 8:30, I was excited about spending some quality time.  But the sink was full of dishes and someone had wet the bed and the house smelled like dusty, stale trash and urine-filled murky dishwater. So, while attempting to tame that beast, I remembered something I saw on Facebook (Like all responsible parents, I get all of my socialization, news, and daily inspiration from Facebook) that recommended certain household chores broken down into age appropriate groups.  I remember the glorious moment when I realized that my kids don’t do any chores and this is a perfect way to be together and get things done at the same time!

I could make a chart and have stickers and organization and incentives and competitions and rewards and --- except I am tired and who has time for that, so instead I put on my ‘have-I-got-a-treat-for-you’ face and excitedly explained how the children are finally old enough to help mommy with bog boy and girl tasks! I used all of the Fun Mom voice I could muster and they bought it! Oh it was wonderful.  Maia was using the brush and pan to “sweep” the bathroom floors (really just spreading dirt about), and Noah was dusting the living room while I cleaned bathrooms and emptied trash.  Maia helped me load the dishwasher and Noah helped me unload and load laundry.

It was not ideal. We didn’t laugh and have a slow motion water fight or put stickers on a chart, but we all cleaned up and the kids felt useful and I made all over them about how impressed I was with their helper skills. By the time we had finished it was nearly bed time, but I lay down on my bed, utterly exhausted, and Maia brought me a picnic on my bed. I still had sheets to put on a bed and trash to take out, but that was the best darn pretend food I’ve ever had.  

I meant to clip the dogs’ toenails and get some other work done, but instead I decided that letting the kids go to bed in front of a movie was just not enough after the week we’ve had. It was a read books to the kids kind of night. To my surprise, the kids didn’t fight the book idea. They each grabbed 4 or 5 books (I had to remind them the 2- each limit). So, we read and read and read. And the listened intently and asked relevant questions and made astute observations and I realized these guys are growing up, so fast.

I tucked Noah in and he was asleep before I even left his room. I lay down with Maia for a moment and curled up with her back to me, she turned around and quietly said “Thanks for reading those books”.  It took my breath away that she even cared. We moms seldom get thank you’s from our kids. We don’t expect or need them. But wow, what an impact. I want to feel like that every night.

 

After putting on the bed sheets and taking out the trash, I finally lay down to read my book, and hubs gets home. He meanders into the room and lies down beside me. I love him so much and miss him not being home most nights, but somehow he almost always manages to come home right as I am getting my first moment of relaxation to myself. I try my best not to be annoyed and look at him, ready to listen. He wants to read a devotional, which he knows I normally love and need. So I listen to him read to me, and we discuss it and I thank him for reading me a book.

Funny how making a deliberate (and sometimes strained) effort to ignore my plans in light of others fulfillment makes me feel the most content.  Thank God for growth, and enjoyment in simple moments with my sweet family. Thank You for the motivation to be less selfish with my time. Thank You (in advance) for helping me remember this.

I am Love

So, I quit camping with my kids. We dipped out a day earlier than planned. It was an easy decision, really. Kids were bored and tired and uncomfortable, and so were we, which as you can imagine created a lovely vacation ambiance.  I can’t accurately describe how unpleasant some of the trip was. I tried. SO. Hard. To keep a smile on my face, to relax and enjoy, remaining upbeat and positive and finding fun and interesting things to do…but it was rainy most of the time. Rainy, and muddy, and buggy with no campfire and wet sheets on the bed and three out of four of us (Hubs was the lucky one) had a nasty cold.  See? Let’s go home. Easy. Nonetheless, it felt like I was giving up, a failure.  For about a minute, then it just felt good.

 

I mean, I knew it would rain, I prepared for it. We had extra tarps, extra towels, raincoats and boots, and even waterproof fire starters. I brought along activities to keep bored kids busy in the tent in the event that we could not get out—like books, art supplies, games, bubbles, vocab cards—but did not take into account my own motivation, which diminished with each sporadic rainfall.  It is hard to remain positive when you don’t feel good, and anyone’s positive outlook would be deflated with the weather we experienced, so I give myself a pass on this trip. But it could very easily turn into a pity party and appear to have been a wasted trip, if I didn’t chose to view it through God’s eyes.

The kids had an amazing time. They were so excited to be sleeping outdoors. We listened to the rain on the tent, read books and took naps together. There was a beautiful beach that we were fortunate enough to visit 3 of the 4 days in between showers, which the kids LOVED. Daddy played with them in the water while mommy watched from the shore. There were crabs in that water, ya’ll.  Live crabs.  I am pretty sure I saw on their faces and heard in their squeals numerous times what must be the purest Joy.

Day 1: Setup camp, cooked dinner on the campfire, visited the camp’s swimming beach, which was pristine and had a pretty cool setup for family pictures (4 oversized Adirondack chairs that each had a letter L-O-V-E on them), after checking that out we went back to camp for bed.

Day 2: Woke up at 6 AM, hubs made breakfast, went to the beach for an hour, had lunch at Sting Ray’s, napped, drove around in the rain for an hour looking for coffee and cookies. We ended up at McDonalds…who knew all businesses were either closed on Mondays or close at 5 PM on the Eastern shore, gracious.  

Day 3: Best coffee ever at Cape Charles coffee house, went to the hardware and everything else store and met Bill and Joseph, the 2 nicest men in town, and bought a sand castle set and soccer ball for the beach, then went over to the beach where Noah saw a kite-surfer. We had lunch in the car and then drove out to Chincoteague, saw the Assateague light house,  played mini golf and the kids rode a bouncy ride, had dinner at Don’s and found the BEST ice cream I have ever tasted at a cart called BYOC (Build Your Own Cookie). We must get one of these close to home!  

Day 4: (My Birthday) We had coffee at Cape Charles Coffee House, then went shopping in town where I found a pretty birthday dress at Periwinkles, then an early dinner at AQUA restaurant. This was the decided capstone to my birthday and our trip, and as remembered, the ambiance was wonderful! Service left something to be desired, but the food was very good. However, my inability to enjoy the experience because I felt crummy was what did us in. I gave up; waved the white flag. We returned to camp to pack up, stopped by stingrays for some ice cream, and headed home.

I thought on the way home, could I have done a better job at being happy for the kids’ sake? Did I truly make the best of my time off work and responsibility-free? Did I enjoy my husband enough? We never did play Candyland, or take the hike I had imagined, or use the raincoats we bought (we needed them, just never had them handy when the shower started).

Then, through God’s eyes, I realized that the time we had together was exactly as it should have been.  The kids had their family all together in one place. We spoke loving words to each other. We smiled a lot, sang songs, painted seashells, talked about nature, and slept next to one another.  One night Noah woke up crying saying “I don’t want Daddy to leave”. That same night, Maia did something similar. They knew in their subconscious mind that this time together was temporary and they were dreading getting back to the everyday routine of busy, just-enough-to-get-the-job-done life.  

You see, I am becoming more and more aware that my self-perception is the filter through which every other thing is seen, heard, understood, and experienced. My opinion of myself is directly related to my reaction to a situation, how I relate to others, and the action(s) I chose to take.  I am equally aware that my children learn by my example. The choices I make affect their perspective of the way the world should work.

I could be negative about this trip, about being sick and not being enough….fill in the blank. But I am learning that to view myself as anything less than marvelously exploding with capability would at best ignore, and at worst refute God’s work in my life; His presence in me, that is never separate from me.  I am a blessed example of God’s love. I try and sometimes fail, but most often succeed to give that love to others.

God doesn’t value me based upon who I am; rather He sees me as the one He created, and what I have the potential to be, and what I am becoming each day in Him.  God is love. (1 John 4:8) And he is in me (John 15:4), so I am love. And THAT is how I shall attempt to see myself.  

Brothers and sisters, I myself don't think I've reached it, but I do this one thing: I forget about the things behind me and reach out for the things ahead of me. The goal I pursue is the prize of God's upward call in Christ Jesus.

~Philippians 3:13-14