Monthly Archives: October 2008

Last night I had the rare treat of going Christmas shopping alone.  Jeff stayed home with Dutch and I took an hour (I know, an hour’s not much but it’s a TON of time for a mommy who’s not used to having any!), and did some Christmas shopping.  Since Jeff’s new job starts Monday, and the first 6 weeks of that job (until Dec. 12) will be coupled with him also being in school full time and me finishing up my last class, I figured I better do any that I can when I can. 

It was so fun!  I’m not exactly sure why but I think I just quit feeling pressured to find the perfect something for that someone. I had a great conversation with my sister-in-law a few months back about how silly it is to expect a certain level of gift from someone, or how silly that we put so much pressure on ourselves to find the perfect thing or make all people “equal” by spending the same amount on everyone. I tossed it all to the wind and decided three things. 

1) I will first put time and prayer and effort into thinking creatively about gift giving this year.  For example, I’m thinking of making Jeff’s grandma (she obviously does not read this blog, so there is no risk of spoiling the surprise) a coupon book full of tokens for “Dutch Days” now that we live near so near her and accompanying it with a “Dutch Box” of cars and books he can play with at her house.   I scored a homerun for my parents (which will remain a secret since they do read this blog), giving them the only thing they cannot get for themselves.  Hm…

2) I will not stress about whether a gift meets a certain “class standard” for certain people.  I don’t know whether you ever feel this, but it’s just darn hard to buy neat things for classy people because you always feel like it has to be from Nordstrom, and you know what? I just can’t buy every Christmas gift from Nordstrom.  So I decided I’ll take extra care in “gift presentation” and make certain a gift is from the heart and forget whether the item has the best brand name.

3) I will not stress about giving “equally”.  What if I spend $30 on one parent and $50 on another?  OH the horror!!!  Ridiculous.  Furthermore, I will simply give my gift without worrying whether the person thinks I spent enough.  I can guarantee I have never once in my heart accused someone of not spending enough on me, so I dare say others aren’t doing it either.  Relax!

I know that for some, even giving gifts on Christmas corrupts its true meaning.  I can totally understand that.  We do strive to keep gift-giving under control and keep the focus on celebrating our Savior since it’s His birthday!  But I have to admit–I love giving gifts.  It is a love language, and a valid one. I love the process, secretly thinking about my family members and scheming ways to bless them. I love the excuse to get them something I wouldn’t normally get them.  And though materialism is always crouching at our door ready to devour us, as long as we keep our eyes on eternity I feel the freedom to partake, in moderation, in the gift-exchange that traditionally accompanies Christmas.  I’m happy to enjoy the food as well, and praise my precious Savior for every last bite of it!

So anyway, nothing very deep here, but let’s just begin to think about how we want to “do Christmas.” Let’s be purposeful. If you’ve decided in your heart that gifts corrupt Christmas, do without! If you want to do something for the Kingdom of God and think globally, shop at the GFA Gift Shop and buy chickens and rabbits and goats for families in Asia. Last year we bought my brother two rabbits and two chickens, per his request!  Or, if you’re going the traditional gift-giving route, put more thought than money into your gift choices.  And lastly, be free!  If gifts are sucking the joy out of this holiday season, something is wrong.  Sit back, sip some cider, curl up with the Savior and His Word, and tell Him how much You love the seasons and every chance we have to celebrate. Ask Him for grace to see and savor Christ.  ‘Tis the season.

I had a really neat post to share.  One from Scripture. About Jesus.  Very edifying.  But you see I can’t post it now because my mind is somewhere else…on my son.  I’m shaking my head because the truth is that toddlers won’t perform. 

Today Jeff and I had an awesome experience. We had a welcome lunch party with the new staff of the church where Jeff will be Associate Pastor (yes, that’s the job!) starting Monday.  We were SO blessed by the staff–all taking a few hours out of their day to greet us and share their lives with us.  The Operations Director hosted us at her wonderful home, where we were lavished with amazing food and treats.  Everyone was SO kind.  Jeff and I just had to shake our heads at how we felt like we just instantly fit in with the family. It was like we already knew them, even though we didn’t. Not one person was stand-offish or cool. No one seemed suspicious, the way we’d sometimes felt in other situations.  We were just embraced with both arms, so to speak. 

But oh that little boy of ours!  You know I should have just had my parents come watch him. Of course that makes sense now looking back. But I wanted everyone to meet him, so we took him along. It’s so funny because sometimes Dutch goes to events like that and is an a-n-g-e-l, reading quietly or playing with trucks.  Well perhaps he caught some of the vibe from his mommy that morning, because unbeknownst to us Dutch had shut off the hot water in the garage. 🙂 Yeah, so when it was time for mommy to go shower and wash her super greasy hair…it was freezing cold.  Of course he didn’t know what he was doing, but maybe the agitation wore off on him. At any rate, he was pretty much an absolute wild man the entire time we were there. He even threw his truck right at Jeff once and hit him right between the eyes. Yeah…I wanted to die.

But what it showed me is that kids don’t perform. I admit, I wanted him to behave because we were meeting all these new people and didn’t want him to come off as a monster.  Well, kids have an uncanny ability to pick up things like that.  “Oh, this is important to you?  Ok, let me push as many buttons as I can!” 🙂

Thank goodness that I now know we’re joining a staff of very gracious folks. They got on the floor and played trucks with him, had special Leggo fruit snacks for him to eat, and even let him play with the inflated pumpkins in the front yard.  In fact no one probably even noticed that he was a terror.  I just need to get over it.

Anyway, I guess I’m glad that our new friends on staff got to see that we don’t have it all together. 🙂  Overall I’m thrilled to join this new team, this new family, and I’m sure we’ll share many imperfect moments together down the road. That’s what family is for.  Right now I’m just thankful it’s naptime, and I’m making a mental note to call my parents next time we have an event to attend… 🙂

This morning was our last morning at Foothills, our home church for the last 15 months, where Jeff has been working ½ time.  The end of the service was powerful, but probably in a different way for me than anyone else.  Pastor Dale was talking about changed lives and the power of God and gave a powerful presentation called Cardboard Testimonies.  He had a few dozen people take turns walking across the stage silent, each holding a huge cardboard sign.  On one side was the “before”-who they were.  And then one by one each person flipped their sign and revealed the “after”-what God had done in their lives.  Survival from cancer, restored marriages, children to barren wombs, freedom from addictions of every kind.  It was truly powerful. 

 But what had me weeping like a baby was the song.

 The worship team began to play “Who Am I?” by Casting Crowns and I knew I was going to crumble.  All at once, thoughts of Sara washed over me.  Sara was a friend, a beautiful, humble, gifted, vibrant, enthusiastic woman of God just a year younger than me who was killed a year and a half ago in a tragic car accident.  During my years in Corvallis, doing the drama ministry, Sara led the dance portion of each year’s play.  We worked together, coordinating songs, praying, and dancing together. My favorite memory is of the two of us dancing to Amazing Grace in the living room of my little apartment in Southtown. 

 But “Who Am I” was the song where I danced in her place.  In Tilly, the last spring drama I was in, Sara danced to this incredible song with two other girls.  That play will always stay with me, as the most powerfully emotional drama experience of my life.  During a later encore performance, Sara was on a dance tour and unable to be there.  What would we do without her?  She was the lead dancer.  But Sara insisted, the show must go on. 

 So I danced in her place.

 I will never be even a fraction of the dancer that Sara was, in fact we had to change the choreography because I couldn’t even do some of the moves she did!  But I danced with all my heart, in my own unique way but also honoring the dance that she had choreographed in her heart. 

 In my own imperfect way, I danced for the Lord, and for her.

 And now, every time I hear that song, the memory haunts me.  I think of Sara.  Of her amazing life of 25 years, cut so short.  And I look up to God and say, “Who am I?” Why do I get to stay here, experience marriage, experience the inexpressible joy of my children, of being a mommy, a wife?  The joy of life.  I know that Sara now has more joy than I could imagine, but I still break down when I think of her, and think “Why am I still here and she is not?  Why am I left here to dance this life, when she danced so much better?!”  I’m sure she’d laugh at my thinking, but it’s still how I feel.

 And as I looked at the cardboard signs, of the miracles God has done to save lives, I couldn’t help but ask Him, “Why not hers, God?  Why not hers?”  And of course there is a reason far above my own reasons, and God in His infinite love and wisdom knows.  But I still ache when I think of her family, of the empty place she left.

 But just like 3 ½ years ago, I know Sara would insist, the show must go on.  And just like I did 3 ½ years ago, I’ll dance in her place as best as I can.  I will never have the talent, vibrancy, enthusiasm, or contagious joy that she had, but as best as I can I will dance as she would, with joy and love and a single-minded devotion to Christ.  Though maybe not literally dancing, I will live and love my husband and children the way that she would have if she had been given the chance.  I will seek to love my Savior the way she did so powerfully here on earth. 

 A few weeks ago Jeff and I saw We Are Marshall, the excellent movie based on the true story of the tragic 1971 airline crash that killed 52 football players, coaches, and fans from Marshall University.  Afterwards, the football program shuts down, since not only does no one want to continue on without the beloved players and coaches but also because they don’t even have the talent to continue playing football with any level of competitiveness.  How can they honor the memory of their teammates by playing and never winning a game?  The assistant coach, who survived, sums up the feeling when he insists, “We’re not honoring them by losing.  We’re disgracing them.”  But they continue on. They play with all their heart, even though they don’t have the talent, even though they only win one game that season, they continue on, playing to honor the beloved coaches and teammates who were killed that horrible day. 

 When Sara was killed, I wondered if the dance ministry there in Corvallis could even go on. I wondered if the drama ministry could even go on.  But it has been a blessing to see, that just as Sara would want it, it has gone on.  The very girls who were trained under Sara rose up and have chosen to dance in her place, to honor her by doing what she loved most, even if none of us will ever be the amazing dancer and woman that she was.  I just heard of a Bible study now taking place where one of Sara’s close friends is now teaching and discipling the girls Sara taught at a local dance academy.  She had shown them Jesus, and now they want more.

 And as I think about all these things, I begin to realize we all play a part of dancing for Sara.  The way we live, love, dance, and worship our Savior carries on Sara’s memory.  We honor her by the way we live. 

In our own imperfect way, we dance for the Lord, and for Sara.   

Yes, another book review. 🙂  I just finished Spiritual Mentoring: A Guide for Seeking and Giving Direction by Randy Reese and Keith Anderson. Excellent!  One of the things I love about it is that it comes at discipleship (called Spiritual Mentoring here) from the perspective of … dead people! Yes, they pick the brains of great men and women of God who have gone before us: Julian of Norwich, Augustine, Teresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, Ignatius of Loyala.   I’m simply including some exerpts here to whet your appetite. Definitely worth reading!

“Spirituality is practical: everything can be seen as a container of the holy. In fact, the everyday containers of time and place become holy as God’s presence fills them. Spirituality is, therefore, inherently and intensely sacramental.  We understand that God’s presence is not confined to that which is sacred; rather God’s grace is mediated through the ordinary.  It is experiential rather than abstract.  As an old Russian proverb says, “Every day can be a messenger of God.” (p. 26)

Amen!  Does this sound familiar? The Sacredness of the Mundane perhaps?

And on motivation for discipling:

“If there is a desire to instruct and tutor another in the ways you have found useful, perhaps it is time to think again. Mentoring is not about telling. It is about listening-to the Holy Spirit and to the life of another.”  (p. 28)

Listening.  All about learning to listen.

“Pay attention for the presence of God in everything … spiritual mentoring is a relationship that helps us pay attention to our stories and to recognize there the already present action of God.”  (p. 40)

On sharing our stories, our pain:

“When he wrote his book on ministry, Henri Nouwen called it The Wounded Healer because he understood that only those whose own hearts have been wounded by suffering of life can be authentically available to others, it is through telling our own histories of pain and joy that we can serve the needs of others, which is ministry.”  (p. 88)

On our spiritual life:

“A commonly held view today equates our spirituality with our devotional life … If I “feel” God in my prayer life or if I “hear” God in almost auditory experience, if I “see” God in a mystical or charismatic vision, then my spiritual life is good, strong, or effective.  The universal teaching of spirituality over all the centuries speaks in unison: God speaks to us in many ways; spirituality is learning to pay attention to the presence of God in everything.  Spiritual listening is never limited to the activities of worship, daily devotions, or spiritual exercises.  It echoes in unexpected ways every hour of the day or night.” (p. 95) 

And

“Prayer is pilgrimage. The closer I get to the goal, the farther away I might feel.  The more holy I become, the less holy I know myself to be.  The more experienced I am in my ministry, the less competent I may feel to lead others to spiritual growth.”  (p. 118)

On necessary, brutal self-examination:

“[Ignatius] understood that we are capable of ‘quenching the spirit’ through ‘inordinate attachments,’ that is, distractions, digressions, habits, or sins that block our progress or keep us from knowing the will of God…Though this sort of self-examination is not a popular discipline today, a sober moral and spiritual inventory of the heart is essential to the spiritual journey. We stop and ponder our own persistence at disobedience.”  (p. 136)

On the reflective life:

“Ignatian methods may be difficult for many in our frantically busy world, but reflective living is surely not impossible for any of us. Even as we wait at the traffic light, can we not lift a prayer?  As we wait in line at the bank, can we not think about the moments of our day? As we drive everywhere, can we turn off the radio, tapes and CDs and listen reflectively to the events of our day? Certainly the discipline of creating time for reflection is a lifeline for spiritual health. Without times in quiet, thoughtful reflection, our spirituality remains shallow, anemic and misguided.”  (p. 145)

On identifying one’s own voice in history:

“Your own voice will reflect the holy history of your own life and its experiences…It is an unfortunate conspiracy of adults and painful experiences that stifle a child.”  (p. 156)

Good stuff!

This morning I read these words of Jesus in my quiet time:

“…For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks.  A good man out of the good treasure ofhis heart brings forth good things, and an evil man out of the evil treasure brings forth evil things. But I say to you that every idle word men may speak, they will give account of it in the the day of judgment.  For by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.”  Matthew 12:34-37

It naturally reminded me of the ever-convicting words of Paul…

“Let no corrupt word proceed out of your mouth, but what is good for necessary edification, that it may impart grace to the hearers.”  Ephesians 4:29

And of James:

“But no man can tame the tongue. It is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison.  With it we bless our God and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in the similitude of God. Out of the same mouth proceed blessing and cursing. My brethren, these things ought not to be so.”  James 3:8-10

Then Jeff stumbled across this video, by John Piper’s DesiringGod ministry, which dramatizes the James 3 passage powerfully:

Wow.  Jeff and I were both reminded several times in the past week just about how unruly our tongues can be, especially with regard to “foolish talking and course jesting” (Eph. 5:4).  We live in such an age of sarcasm, and yes perhaps “we kid because we care”, but several times I’ve thought of just how stupid I can be, how often I’d like to go back and just delete something I say.  But there’s no option for that. And the things that we say in our least guarded moments are revelatory of our hearts, just as Jesus said.

I am challenged by Jesus reminder that we will be judged by the idle words that we speak.  Words are a gift.  A tool.  A means of furthering the kingdom of God and providing healing for those who are wounded.  How do I use my words?

A few nights ago Jeff and I went and saw Fireproof, the new movie about the Love Dare.  The Love Dare was a 40-day challenge, with each day presenting a new thing for Caleb, the main character, to do for his wife in order to learn the meaning of true love and commitment.  Day One of the Love Dare quoted James 3, and challenged Caleb to refrain from saying anything negative or critical to his wife.  I think it’s interesting that the Love Dare started with words.  It didn’t start with flowers, romance, or even anything to do with praying together or reading Scripture together. It just started with taming the tongue.  James tells us the tongue is the rudder that steers the entire ship, perhaps there is wisdom then in starting there.

I’m enormously challenged in this area. Our culture uses sarcasm, belittles, and throws words around with no caution whatsoever.  The norm is to use words manipulatively, for our own gain and benefit.  Scripture says our words are sacred, blessing God.  How we use them will steer the course of our life.  By our words we will be justified, and by our words we will be condemned.

So this challenge this week is watch our words.  My personal challenge is to not use sarcasm or say anything belittling or negative this week.  I will not complain.  Perhaps you want to do something similar.  Ask your spouse for accountability.  Try day one of the Love Dare, and refuse to say anything critical to your spouse.  Tailor make the challenge for your own life.  Where does your verbal life need to change?  God give us the grace to use words for your glory, for furtherance of your Kingdom, and to build up and heal those in our lives.  We know we need to grow. Give us grace.

My pastor said a great thing the other day that was totally out of character for him (he’s very soft, funny, not an in-your-face kind of guy).  He said, “There’s only one reason why you don’t read your Bible.  Because you’re arrogant.”  We sat in silence for a second.  “Arrogant.  The reason I don’t read my Bible is that I’m arrogant.  I don’t think I’m desperate enough to search God’s Word for more revelation of Himself and His will.  I’m arrogant.” 

I would wholeheartedly agree.  And in order to make the charge more convicting for me personally, I would add, There’s only one reason why you don’t pray more.  Because you’re arrogant.  There’s only one reason I don’t pray more. It’s not that I don’t have time (I have time for dessert, time for homework, and time to do the laundry).  It’s because I arrogantly don’t believe I’m that dependent on God.  Challenging.

Just a thought for the day…

I know, this sounds morbid. It’s late and I’m exhausted so this will be short.  As you know, our church has done a One Month to Live series, looking at life from the perspective of knowing your time on earth is short.  I haven’t read the book so can’t recommend it, but the perspective has been great. Then, tonight I read my friend Caila’s blog, and she too was asking the question, “What would you do if you have one month to live?”  It’s a fabulous question.  My answer, though I wish were more spiritual, went something like this:

Hold my son so close I could taste his breath and kiss his cheeks and never let go. I would stay up all night, every night, writing him letters for him to read throughout his life, and telling him how enormously proud I am of him. I would video myself singing to him and telling him how much I love him so he could know my voice and know how in love with him I am. I would spend the rest of my hours praying for his precious little life to be lived for God.

Then I would lie in my husband’s arms and smell his chest and watch our son sleep. I would tell him a million times over how his undying love has changed my life. While he slept I would write him a hundred letters to read later…  Ok, crying too hard to continue.

Right after Duch was born, I did just that.  I wrote two long letters, one to Jeff and one to Dutch, to read only in the event that I’m no longer here.  I wept as I wrote them (I’m weeping now) because the thought of my son growing up without knowing my love is too much for me to even comprehend.  But I’m so glad I wrote them, because at least I know that no matter what, I’ve said what I know I want to say.  I’ve even told Jeff I want the song, “In Christ Alone” played at my memorial.  I know those are small things, but more than my life being something big, I just want it to be real.  I just want those very closest to me to see Christ burning in my life more than anything else. 

So though it’s not a fun topic, our challenge this week is to prepare to die.  Just give it some thought. What is unfinished that needs to be taken care of?  Who is there you need to forgive, or ask forgiveness of?  Do you need to write a letter to someone, or tell your spouse how blessed you truly are?  Do you need to invest in your child more than invest in the stock market?  Which needs more attention, the crumbs at your feet or the spouse at your side?  Does anything need to change?  Lord, show us.

Better to go to the house of mourning Than to go to the house of feasting, For that is the end of all men; And the living will take it to heart.  Ecc. 7:2

Let’s take it to heart.

I feel like for the past few weeks blogging has been a challenge, because there is so much I want to write about, but can’t yet.  And I will still wait to share details until certain people have been able to share certain things, but I’d happily email with you if you’re interested!

As any of you who have followed this blog, or our lives, know, we’ve had a few disappointments in the past few years, related to ministry.  We’ve both sensed God’s call on Jeff’s life to be a pastor, that He’s called us to serve Him full-time in vocational ministry, and yet the 4 1/2 year “shelved” period has been long, at least for us it has felt long.  The San Jose experience, though God’s grace shown through it and has taught more than any other life lesson, still haunted us.  We didn’t realize it until this past week.  We were basically offered the job of Jeff’s dreams, I’ll tell you that much.  I was so overwhelmed with joy I was weeping. It was like everything God had hard-wired into Jeff was wrapped up in this opportunity, and it also had glorious implications for me as well.  Then due to really simple circumstances, we had to wait 2 weeks for it to be official (for us to find out the details).  Again, due to simple circumstances, we didn’t hear anything for a little while, and both Jeff and I thought of the worst.  By the time we had our meeting yesterday Jeff and I were both convinced that the whole thing would fall apart, they would back out, and since we’d gone ahead and closed the door on the other opportunities in our life, we would be flat on our backs again, with nothing…just like in San Jose. 

I didn’t really make the connection until Jeff called his dear friend Adam and shared his anxiety with him. Adam said, “Bro, you know they’re not going to back out.  The San Jose thing has really wounded you, hasn’t it?”  At the same time I had emailed my mom and asked her to pray for us as we both felt so vulnerable and anxious, afraid they would back out at the last minute, or only pay us a pittance which we’d be unable to live on.  She wrote back, “It’s startling to see how much San Jose has scarred you.”  I sat and stared at those words realizing she was right.  So Jeff and I began to pray.  We know a cautious heart was wise, not taking anything for granted, not assuming anything, and not having expectations.  But we also know God did not want us to be in a place of constant fear, dreading that any future ministry employer would use us or turn on us or back out on us at any moment’s notice.  After spending time on our knees, we came to the place where we could say, “Even if that happens again, we’ll be ok.  Even if God makes us re-live our hurt from San Jose, we’ll be ok, because God is faithful.  He is our hope, our provider, our sustainer.”  Even writing those words brings tears to my eyes now…as I look at the rest of the story.

Suffice it to say, our experience yesterday was as if God took every single hurtful thing we’d ever experienced from our ministry disappointments … and reversed it.  Through the generosity, love, care, attention, and support of those we are partnering with, we were left in absolute awe of God.  Truly above and beyond anything we could have ever imagined. 

This morning as I opened up my Bible for my quiet time, I knew it was no accident.  As I read through the book of Joel, that classic passage, spoken to the children of Israel, became new for me in a whole new way, showing me the heart of my loving Father.  It was if God were saying

“So I will restore to you the years that the swarming locusts has eaten, the crawling locust, the consuming locust, my great army which I sent among you.  You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied, and praise the name of the Lord your God, who has dealt wondrously with you.”  (Joel 2:25-26) 

Tears streamed down my face as I read.  This is my God.  My good God.  Yes, I know there are more trying times ahead, probably more trying than I can even imagine. But right now, at this moment, looking over the past 4 1/2 years, I can only say that God is so good.  I will share more details in the next few weeks, but for right now, I just had to share my joy with you.  We turn our eyes to God and praise Him, for He is holy, He is worthy, He is good. His ways are perfect.  His love beyond our comprehension.  Great is our God. 

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Jeff has shared more on this (with more detail) from his perspective.  Check out his thoughts…