Annually, the week prior to Thanksgiving seems in many homes to be dedicated to three agendas: the family gathering for the Thankgiving meal, charting detailed Black Friday battle strategies and decking the entire house in Christmas attire. I love a good deal as much as the next gal, but for me it's just not worth it to get up at 3 a.m. to head out into the cold and wade through crowds of people shoving and throwing elbows for the latest gadget that will still be there (and sometimes still on sale) after 10 a.m. And while I love Christmas, I'd also rather not spend hundreds of dollars making my house look like it was decorated by a pack of elves buzzing on Red Bull. All you're going to see at my house is a single tree in the living room, a wreath on the front door and greenery on the mantle. Don't think I'd knock it if you hit the day-after sales and went crazy with the tinsel; it's just not me.
What I do look forward to is Thanksgiving itself, which seems to not get a whole lot of attention these days, unless of course you watch The Food Network (which I do). Cooking is a passion of mine so I certainly appreciate the culinary offerings involved in Thanksgiving, but what I really love is packing up the car and heading to the family farm to visit relatives I only get to see this time each year. In my family there's just an indescribable warmth that fills me when we all get together for some good food and fellowship. I say fellowship because most of my family members are believers, and I've gotta tell you there's nothing like it. For as long as I can remember that common foundation has felt like a real gift from the Lord. Just knowing I'm loved by people who love God and follow Him has made me feel somehow safer in a world that's just plain scary. And knowing that my kids are going to grow up in that same environment just renews that warmth in my soul.
So this year I want to say that I'm thankful for the wonderful people God has put in my life, whether we're related by blood or just belief. Love our hearts, we're all flawed but we're all perfectly loved by our Creator. For that, I gladly skip the rest of the hoopla.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Come Rain or Shine
One of the nice aspects of having a baby in the non-mobile stage is that he or she is portable. I think the Lord eases us into parenthood with babies who can go with us pretty much anywhere so we won't feel quite so overwhelmed by the enormous change we've just undertaken. At least I have enjoyed this stage with each of my children. You just strap them into a car seat and they're good to go. The car seat sits right on top of the grocery cart and, if you have a Graco "transportation system," they just snap into a coordinating stroller and you're on your way. Easy peasy.
Unless it's raining. Then, my friend, you are in for a day of being wet and grumbling about it. Frankly, I'd just assume stay home on rainy days with babies. Here's why: there is absolutely no way to keep from getting soaked while getting a stroller in and out of a trunk, followed by placing the baby in the stroller. It's a two-handed job, and there are no two ways about it. Add in a toddler to go along on the trip and you've got yourself a nightmare, sister.
When I accepted an invitation weeks ago to attend a Women's study celebration at church, I did so with great anticipation. I sat out of a study this semester because I wanted to get settled with my newborn before leading another group, and I had really missed being in one. Plus, the celebrations are just fun - there's a room full of at least a couple hundred ladies chatting and worshipping, and everyone brings a brunch dish to share. I booked a babysitter for my 2-year-old daughter and planned to take my very portable 3-month-old son along, as he is rarely a distraction at this stage.
But when I woke up to a downpour Tuesday morning, I regretted having made such solid plans. Being down one kid, I'd figured I could easily slip in and out of the grocery store on the way to church to pick up a dish. But I didn't even want to think about doing that in the November rain, let alone fumbling through the monsoon with a baby, a double stroller and food in tow. I did it, though, because when I say I'm going to be somewhere I keep my promises. But that didn't mean I was going to do it with a good attitude, and regrettably I didn't. I felt like I was moving in slow motion, wrestling that baby seat out of my car while trying to balance an oversized golf umbrella between my chin and shoulder. Unsuccessfully, I might add. Weren't passers-by just gawking instead of helping me? Inside the store, shoppers' carts were slow-moving and employees were stocking the very shelves I needed to get to. And when I finally reached the register, I discovered that once again I'd left my discount card at home. Sigh. Back in the car I consoled myself that I was doing the right thing by honoring the plans I'd made and bringing food. I pulled into a parking spot at church and proceeded with the same rain-and-windswept waltz to the doors with my stroller. Poor me.
Walking into the fellowship hall, albeit wet, I felt instantly relieved. Familiar faces soothed my stress as I found the table with my friends and sat down with my contented baby. After chatting over hot coffee, fruit and bagels with cream cheese, we listened as the teacher made some summary remarks about the semester's focus: becoming a God seeker, a study I'd taken last year and knew to be an enriching one. I listened as ladies took the mic to share how God had been moving in their lives. One talked about how a daughter had come to know Christ, after years of praying for her. Another told of how God comforted her after her teenager was killed. One lady after another shared how the Lord has proven Himself faithful in her life, and I could only hold back my tears as I recalled how gracious He's been in my own. I mean, there I was holding one of His greatest gifts to me. We worshipped together, singing praise songs and praying for more growth.
Blessed. How could I feel anything but completely, utterly blessed? But what's more is that I would have missed all this if I'd have followed my instincts to stay home. It would have been easier, but my heart wouldn't have had the benefit of all that testimony. I would have missed out on another encounter with my Lord. It was a reminder to me that when we're called into communion with God, we're not called to live a comfortable life. Sometimes it means taking risks by the world's standards. Sometimes it means trading an extra hour of sleep for quiet time studying Scripture and praying. And sometimes it means walking through the rain to meet Him anywhere He calls you. Next time I hope I'll do less grumbling on the trip.
Unless it's raining. Then, my friend, you are in for a day of being wet and grumbling about it. Frankly, I'd just assume stay home on rainy days with babies. Here's why: there is absolutely no way to keep from getting soaked while getting a stroller in and out of a trunk, followed by placing the baby in the stroller. It's a two-handed job, and there are no two ways about it. Add in a toddler to go along on the trip and you've got yourself a nightmare, sister.
When I accepted an invitation weeks ago to attend a Women's study celebration at church, I did so with great anticipation. I sat out of a study this semester because I wanted to get settled with my newborn before leading another group, and I had really missed being in one. Plus, the celebrations are just fun - there's a room full of at least a couple hundred ladies chatting and worshipping, and everyone brings a brunch dish to share. I booked a babysitter for my 2-year-old daughter and planned to take my very portable 3-month-old son along, as he is rarely a distraction at this stage.
But when I woke up to a downpour Tuesday morning, I regretted having made such solid plans. Being down one kid, I'd figured I could easily slip in and out of the grocery store on the way to church to pick up a dish. But I didn't even want to think about doing that in the November rain, let alone fumbling through the monsoon with a baby, a double stroller and food in tow. I did it, though, because when I say I'm going to be somewhere I keep my promises. But that didn't mean I was going to do it with a good attitude, and regrettably I didn't. I felt like I was moving in slow motion, wrestling that baby seat out of my car while trying to balance an oversized golf umbrella between my chin and shoulder. Unsuccessfully, I might add. Weren't passers-by just gawking instead of helping me? Inside the store, shoppers' carts were slow-moving and employees were stocking the very shelves I needed to get to. And when I finally reached the register, I discovered that once again I'd left my discount card at home. Sigh. Back in the car I consoled myself that I was doing the right thing by honoring the plans I'd made and bringing food. I pulled into a parking spot at church and proceeded with the same rain-and-windswept waltz to the doors with my stroller. Poor me.
Walking into the fellowship hall, albeit wet, I felt instantly relieved. Familiar faces soothed my stress as I found the table with my friends and sat down with my contented baby. After chatting over hot coffee, fruit and bagels with cream cheese, we listened as the teacher made some summary remarks about the semester's focus: becoming a God seeker, a study I'd taken last year and knew to be an enriching one. I listened as ladies took the mic to share how God had been moving in their lives. One talked about how a daughter had come to know Christ, after years of praying for her. Another told of how God comforted her after her teenager was killed. One lady after another shared how the Lord has proven Himself faithful in her life, and I could only hold back my tears as I recalled how gracious He's been in my own. I mean, there I was holding one of His greatest gifts to me. We worshipped together, singing praise songs and praying for more growth.
Blessed. How could I feel anything but completely, utterly blessed? But what's more is that I would have missed all this if I'd have followed my instincts to stay home. It would have been easier, but my heart wouldn't have had the benefit of all that testimony. I would have missed out on another encounter with my Lord. It was a reminder to me that when we're called into communion with God, we're not called to live a comfortable life. Sometimes it means taking risks by the world's standards. Sometimes it means trading an extra hour of sleep for quiet time studying Scripture and praying. And sometimes it means walking through the rain to meet Him anywhere He calls you. Next time I hope I'll do less grumbling on the trip.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Ramblings on happiness and gratitude
Several reports have been released of late about the level of happiness women have or have not been experiencing in recent years. Some blame it on the women's liberation movement. To me, the notion that anyone can "have it all" is only achievable if one changes his or her definition of what "it all" is. If a woman works eight hours a day to achieve ever higher rungs on the corporate ladder, can she expect to feel fulfilled with the couple of hours she can spend with her baby before his bed time when she returns home? Does it make her giddy to spend all those hours toiling for someone else's goals just so she can pay the babysitter, let alone the mortgage, the car payment and the grocery bill? On the flip side, is the stay-at-home mom intellectually stimulated by the conversations between Big Bird and Elmo? Would she rather use her hands to bang out a well-written brief than to wipe a nose in a constant state of drip? How does she feel when she sees her husband stressed because their lifestyle or even their financial viability rides on his next paycheck? Does she not wish to help lighten that load with an income of her own? Considering the temporal, no I don't think I as a woman can have it all. How could anyone?
But finding fulfillment involves much more than the indicators these studies have analyzed.
While I would agree that aspects of feminism has contributed to the degradation of the family and some of our society's greatest moral failures, most notably legalized abortion, I don't think it's the root of our unhappiness as a gender. In fact, I know too many men to suggest that discontentment only plagues the female. It didn't hit me until recently when I heard Barbara Rainey talking about ingratitude on Family Life Today that maybe the root of why any of us feel unfulfilled boils down to one thing - it's our nature.
When we were created God put in our hearts a longing for Him, yet we try to fill that hole with anything but Him. Throughout biblical history we see a lineage of unhappy people. For example, the Lord rescued the Israelites from slavery and graciously provided every morsel they put in their mouths, yet they complained all the way to the promised land. In contrast, Rainey pointed out, the Pilgrims took time in their own promised land to thank God for His provision, although very few of them survived the arduous journey overseas and bitterly cold first winter at Plymouth.
The Pilgrims had nothing but their lives and their freedom, yet they were grateful. They had to labor just to eat; we can pick up dinner in a drive-through while sitting in heated cars that will take us to our brick homes with Internet access. Many of them starved to death, while obesity is among our most dire health concerns. Today we have everything at our disposal and we're miserable.
As Rainey pointed out in her radio address, grumbling is a major offense to God. The book of James tells us we don't have because we don't ask, and when we do ask we don't receive because we ask with wrong motive. We want to spend what we get on our pleasures.
We feel unfulfilled because we don't appreciate what we've been blessed with in the first place. And that calls for a change in attitude - to be content with what God has given us, even the challenges. Be thankful for those extra pounds you'd like to lose because it means you got to eat and for that mortgage you struggle to pay each month because it means you get to sleep under a roof. Those two alone are more than what many people of the world have.
I may no longer get to fraternize with colleagues, hobnob with newsmakers or bring in a paycheck with my name on it, but I've exchanged them for an incredible life God gave me. I couldn't count all the blessings. I have a husband who loves the Lord more than he loves me (which, by the way, is much better than the alternative), two beautiful children I've been called to raise and an honest-to-goodness relationship with Jesus. I think that when I focus on all God has provided for me, even through the struggles, my only response has to be gratitude. It's only then can I realize I really do have it all.
But finding fulfillment involves much more than the indicators these studies have analyzed.
While I would agree that aspects of feminism has contributed to the degradation of the family and some of our society's greatest moral failures, most notably legalized abortion, I don't think it's the root of our unhappiness as a gender. In fact, I know too many men to suggest that discontentment only plagues the female. It didn't hit me until recently when I heard Barbara Rainey talking about ingratitude on Family Life Today that maybe the root of why any of us feel unfulfilled boils down to one thing - it's our nature.
When we were created God put in our hearts a longing for Him, yet we try to fill that hole with anything but Him. Throughout biblical history we see a lineage of unhappy people. For example, the Lord rescued the Israelites from slavery and graciously provided every morsel they put in their mouths, yet they complained all the way to the promised land. In contrast, Rainey pointed out, the Pilgrims took time in their own promised land to thank God for His provision, although very few of them survived the arduous journey overseas and bitterly cold first winter at Plymouth.
The Pilgrims had nothing but their lives and their freedom, yet they were grateful. They had to labor just to eat; we can pick up dinner in a drive-through while sitting in heated cars that will take us to our brick homes with Internet access. Many of them starved to death, while obesity is among our most dire health concerns. Today we have everything at our disposal and we're miserable.
As Rainey pointed out in her radio address, grumbling is a major offense to God. The book of James tells us we don't have because we don't ask, and when we do ask we don't receive because we ask with wrong motive. We want to spend what we get on our pleasures.
We feel unfulfilled because we don't appreciate what we've been blessed with in the first place. And that calls for a change in attitude - to be content with what God has given us, even the challenges. Be thankful for those extra pounds you'd like to lose because it means you got to eat and for that mortgage you struggle to pay each month because it means you get to sleep under a roof. Those two alone are more than what many people of the world have.
I may no longer get to fraternize with colleagues, hobnob with newsmakers or bring in a paycheck with my name on it, but I've exchanged them for an incredible life God gave me. I couldn't count all the blessings. I have a husband who loves the Lord more than he loves me (which, by the way, is much better than the alternative), two beautiful children I've been called to raise and an honest-to-goodness relationship with Jesus. I think that when I focus on all God has provided for me, even through the struggles, my only response has to be gratitude. It's only then can I realize I really do have it all.
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