Sacred Mundane: The Blog

Besides people, nothing else has influenced my relationship with Christ more than my relationship with money.

Nothing.

Which is why I get a little crazy when we start talking finances and frugality, because while the world is trying to save a dime, score the deal, and snag the doorbuster, Scripture teaches the true secrets of frugality which turns the penny-pinching game into a life-giving pursuit. So I can’t tell you how giddy-excited I am to offer you this new e-book Faithfully Frugal on Amazon. In it I share our family’s journey, from chasing the elusive American dream to embracing simplicity, contentment, and peace. Also included are recipes and simple frugal-living ideas.  Go ahead and snag a bunch of copies for yourself and friends and spend less, give more, live more. Thanks for reading!

*YES, you can still get this book even if you don’t have a kindle. Click “Available on your PC” or “Available on your Mac” on the righthand side right above the “Give as a Gift” button. Enjoy!

**Spread the word! Thanks!

It was quiet on our 45-minute drive home from Salem. We’d done a Capitol field trip and visited friends and played hard and the kids were tired, sleepily gazing out the window as we pulled off the freeway and wound around the off-ramp toward our home.  I heard, quietly, in the backseat, Heidi’s little bird-chirp voice:

“Dutch, why do you want to grow up and go have your own home and kids?” (My ears perked up.)

“Because that’s what kids do, Heidi. They have to grow up and then get their own homes and their own kids. But you have to have a wife in order to have kids. Your wife’s the one who gives you the kids.” (Slight cringe as I realize reproductive conversations are in our future.)

“But, I don’t want to go to my own house … (thinking) … I wonder who my wife (thinking) … I wonder who my …”

I interject. “Husband? You wonder who your husband will be?”

“Yeah, I wonder who my husband will be.”

I smile. “I don’t know Heidi. We’ll find out when you’re older.” She frowns, then lights up with an idea.

“I want Daddy to be my husband!” Beams.

Dutch is quick: “Daddy can’t be your husband, Heidi!” Her face falls.

“Babygirl, I remember when I was little, I wanted my daddy to be my husband. But then when you grow up you stop wanting that and you find your real husband. It changes when you grow up.”

Her face is so serious. She’s quiet then,

“Mommy, is it sad to grow up?”

Emotion floods the car. At that moment I am sitting on my Daddy’s lap, in the big LazyBoy chair, feeling his earlobes in my fingers, snuggling against his chest, telling him I want him to be my husband. He’s laughing and telling me I won’t want that when I grow up. I can feel the fuzzy softness of his earlobes in my fingers. Like peaches. I take a deep breath.

“Oh babygirl, it’s happy-sad to grow up. Growing up is great, it’s lots of fun and it’s what God made us to do, so it’s happy. But it’s also kind of sad, because things change so much. So it’s happy-sad. Do you understand?”

She nods.

A couple days later a good friend and I had a hard conversation. Because we never “arrive,” we’re always growing up, aren’t we? We, the Body of Christ, are always growing up spiritually. And every time we move forward, taking maturing steps of understanding, conflict, humility, grace, seeking to understand and striving for unity, whenever we move forward in this spiritual growing-up process, it’s happy-sad. Why?

Because in order to grow up, we do have to lose something. Just like we have to lose our pretend idea of marrying our daddies, we have to lose our pretend ideas of what community is, what love is. God gently strips away our childish ideas and deepens us, strengthens us, matures us.

The truth is: I kind of like being a baby. 

I hate conflict. I hate that jittery feeling it gives me inside. How it makes that fear of rejection boil up to the surface.

But I can’t marry my dad. Right?

And as we grow together, as Christ’s family, we give each other grace for the growing pains.  For the happy-sad feelings of growing up.  I’m grateful to be surrounded by a community of people growing up together in Christ.

We walk through the happy-sad together. And together we grow up and prepare to be with our real Husband, forever.

~

How are you experiencing the happy-sad of growing up today? How can you embrace those growing alongside you? Thanks for growing with me, and thanks for reading.

• That this was the only book Dutch wanted from the library this week.
• Good friends.
• Grace.
• Field Trip to the state capitol.
• Getting low to see the world through their eyes. Everything looks more beautiful from down there.
• Children in footie pajamas.
• Confession.
• Forgiveness.
• Unity.
• Love.
• Growth.
• Matt & Janae.
• Being interrupted.
• Learning.
• That things don’t depend on us.
• Check-marks for kids earning pets … slowly.
• Unexpected awesome afternoon with Jeff’s cousins.
• Pre-teen and teenage kids who joyfully play with our littles. It’s SO refreshing to spend time with delightful teenagers!
• 40-year old mini cuisinart handed down to us from Jeff’s grandma. I’m a nerd but quickly chopped veggies is pretty exciting to me!
• Heidi’s laugh.
• Natalie and Lucy dressed up like princesses.
• Dutch & Marshall instant friends.
• A warm sunny day.
• How the world is full of wonder for a child. A want to live like that!
• Working through conflict.
• Christ’s love.
• Compassion.
• Chocolate coconut-milk ice-cream. 
• French fries. What’s not to love?
• Slow Sunday mornings in jammies.
• Heidi & Debra’s special little friendship.
• Simple pleasures.
• Avocados. Where have you been all my life? I want you for every meal!
• Choosing to see, enjoy, and love the little gifts of grace He gives us each day.
• Grasping the long, high, wide, deep love of Christ. (More, please, Jesus!)

I pray His long, high, wide, deep love overwhelms you this weekend. Oh how He loves us! Thanks for reading.

{*I thought we were offering a new e-book, Faithfully Frugal, today, but we had a glitch with Amazon last night, so we’ll get the kinks out and offer it to you next week! Thanks for your patience. My thoughts are somewhere else today anyway, so it works out …}

~

I thought the DMV was the worst place on earth.

I was wrong. The DHS office is.

Yesterday I spent the afternoon at DHS, at The Father’s Heart, driving through a couple Section 8 housing facilities, and in my kitchen helping my new friend from Bus Stop 32.

There are no quick fixes. (You knew that already.)

I am the first to admit being completely clueless about the ins and outs of addiction, child abuse, mental illness, poverty–the intricate web that keeps so may bound and unable to break free. No expert here. I’m just a girl whose desperate prayer the last few weeks has been, Show me how to love. After six days of praying this prayer God dumped Julie (not her real name) on my doorstep and I’ve been awkwardly trying to love and help her, completely over my skis, trying to pretend like I’m not terrified by the dark world she brings to my attention.

So while I don’t exactly have a carefully crafted treatise on the-best-way-to-help-people-with-huge-stinkin’-problems, one thing has stood out to me through our interactions with the judge, DHS workers, and other folks along the way:

Justice and love.

There are a lot of people out there working for justice. There are great programs in place. There are excellent treatment facilities. But here’s what there isn’t a lot of:

Love.

My goal yesterday, my only goal, was to convince Julie of God’s love for her and my love for her. That’s it. I know she’s pretty much a mess. I know she’s still dishonest about some things. But today I watched the eyes of people as they interacted with her. Just watched. Here’s what I saw:

Judgment. Suspicion. Guardedness. Skepticism.

All of this is well-deserved. I get that.

But then I took her into The Father’s Heart, a street-ministry near our home that feeds 350-500 people every week, provides job training, a safe house, shelter, computer resources … and love. 

The Father’s love.

We walked into the building at 3:34. They close at 3:30pm, but I was desperate to get her there, so she could just see what it was, so I tried the door anyway. They readily welcomed us in and embraced us with smiles and open arms, even though they’d already had a long day serving dozens of homeless folks. They loaded Julie up with food and toiletries, and walked her through the facility, letting her know she was welcome anytime.

But the greatest thing they offered her was the look in their eyes.

They loved her. 

Even though she went outside and smoked while they were preparing her foodbox. Even though they’d seen thousands of Julies walk through their door. They had every right to claim Compassion-Fatigue. Every right to give the same judgment, suspicion, guardedness, and skepticism that Julie was used to receiving from the rest of the world. Of course they knew her kind.

But the way they looked at her was completely different. They looked at her with eyes of love.

Here’s the bottom line: People can tell in our eyes whether we love them or not. We can go through the motions, do the right things, say the right things, but only love changes people. Love looks at people with eyes of hope. Love accepts them. Yes, love makes tough choices. But love always looks to the good end and believes the best.

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
—1 Corinthians 13:7

To give people hope, to inspire people to faith, we must first give people love.

So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

–1 Corinthians 13:13

Learning to love, along with you. Who can you love–not try to “fix”– this weekend? Thanks for reading.