Sacred Mundane: The Blog

I’ve been thinking lately about the phrase “Give us this day our daily bread.”  As we studied through what we call “The Lord’s Prayer” in our prayer class, we discussed this sentence as one that expresses the simple and utter dependence that we have on God.  Even our food is a gift from Him.  And what always strikes me about this simple petition is that we are to ask only for today’s bread.  We’re not told to ask for tomorrow’s bread, and it is ludicrous to think of asking for yesterday’s bread, so we are left with one option–today’s.  And since we’re also commanded not to worry about tomorrow…we can only conclude that this verse is truly telling us not to seek things for tomorow, but to ask Him for today.

It is a true confession that I have done plenty of whining on this blog. How often have I written when I’m in the depths of despair, and so often you have kindly trudged through the mire with me. For that I thank you!  But this week I am focusing on, contemplating and considering how each day God has been so faithful to provide for our needs. When we jumped off the cliff almost 11 months ago, leaving our jobs and home and “normal” life, we had no idea what to expect. We had $10,000 in savings, which we figured would get us through a year of living frugally, without a mortgage but with paying our own health insurance, etc.  We’ve had some unexpectated losses–Jeff’s car turning into a paperweight–but we’ve also had amazing little provisions…daily bread. 

The little tutoring job that I did during the Fall and now Jeff has done all Spring. Totally unexpected, and perfect for our situation.  Getting to TA again this year for Dr. Lockwood at Multnomah.  A surprise generous gift from my grandma at Christmas time.  A State tax refund check and an economic stimulus check.  And this month, in the midst of my stress over not having a job yet, Jeff was hired to develop a website for his old college fraternity, which equals one more month in the clear.  Now I’m certainly not saying that living paycheck to paycheck is the “by faith” way to go…anyone who knows me knows I’m not saying that. But what I’m saying is that for all the things I’ve hated about this year, it has shown me a little more about what “Give us this day our daily bread” really means.  Today, Lord.  Today I have bread. In fact, today I had more than that–I had delicious peanut butter balls from my friend Melissa, a few homemade chocolate chip cookies, ice cold pink lemonade, and delicious summer squash with dinner. That’s abundance! 

And this utter dependence is available to us no matter what our life looks like.  We are dependent on God for the air that we breathe, the water that cleanses and nourishes us.  We do well to stop, look around and express our gratitude to God for the amazing way that He gives us each day our daily bread. 

Today I’m so thankful for solitude. Dutch and I had the place to ourselves. We played, walked, went to the river, took wagon rides (well, he took a wagon ride).  We ate our lunch together, played with trucks.  I sat in the glorious sunshine while swimming in the deep end of the sovereignty of God reading Desiring God.  I sunburnt my tummy, drank iced green tea and pink lemonade, and ordered birthday invitations for a certain someone’s 30th birthday party :-).  This afternoon two girlfriends came over with their 3 boys, all around Dutch’s age.  We spent 3 hours watching four hilarious blond-haired boys run around, soaking wet, spraying the hose at each other, splash in the wading pool, load pea gravel into the toy dump trucks, and throw rocks in the river while the dog tried to catch them in his mouth.  ANd tonight I sat with my family–my precious little family unit, the three of us, and ate our dinner before going for a walk, splashing Dutch in the bathtub, and snuggling down for a bedtime read.  This day was all that is sweet.  It was daily bread but so much more. It was a gift from God, and for that I’m so thankful. 

Let’s consider our utter dependence on God, and what glorious dependence because He is all that is dependable.  Give us this day our daily bread. 

I just finished reading a trilogy, by Liz Curtis Higgs, recommended by my sister-in-(love).  She let me borrow her copies, warning me they were not a light read.  These historical novels, set in Scotland in the 1790s, depict a creative rendering of the story of Jacob, Leah, and Rachel, from the biblical account.  A mere several chapters in Genesis, elaborated into almost 1500 pages of tragedy, love, faith, injustice, forgiveness, grace, reconciliation, death, and life. The first one Thorn in my Heart was amazing. Wonderful. Heart-wrenching, but redemptive.  The second one, Fair is the Rose, sent me into a fit of despair. It was so wretchedly emotional I wasn’t even sure I could finish it.  But I did. The third and final one, Whence Came a Prince, accomplished what I was certain it couldn’t.  It was faithful to the character of God, true to the biblical account, and wholly and deeply satisfying to read. 

What I’m left with in these stories is the profound faith of Leah, named Leanna in the books.  She is the one virtually immovable character, the one of selfless love, tireless patience, and endless faith.  All through the book her thoughts read in italics, her thoughts that are nothing other than scripture, the Word of God, used as a means of taking every thought captive, a means of renewing her mind, a means of reminding herself of the character, mercy, and love of God in the midst of unthinkably unjust circumstances and cruelty. 

So I’m left profoundly affected by Leana, and am chagrined today to find myself so closely parroting Rachel (named Rose in the book).  Rose, though a wonderful character in the end, is largely consumed with herself.  She is young, vain, impetuous.  She has wonderful virtue as well, but is largely consumed with herself, even if it is in a sweet and seemingly innocent way. But I long to be Leanna. But am I willing to endure what Leanna endured in order to become the pearl, the beautiful gem worn by years of adversity?  Rose was the beautiful one, but Leanna shown with a unearthly beauty, the radiance of her radical faith in God.  Could it be that adversity beautifies us?  Certainly not outwardly, but we know it does have its work in us that we can made complete, lacking nothing.  So how is this possible? How can I, how can we, like Leanna, bravely face the world, with all its pain, and count it all joy?

Insert John Piper.  After finishing the trilogy, my spirit craved a little bit of non-fiction.  I like to go back and forth between fun, can’t-put-the-book-down fiction and non-fiction that requires a slower go, taking my time chewing on the morsels of truth contained.  So after finishing, I checked on Dutch who was still sound alseep, exhausted from his day a the zoo. So I pulled Desiring God off the shelf (I know, how can I call myself a Piper fan if I’ve never read his classic?).  I’ve read the abbreviated version The Dangerous Duty of Delight, and many of his other works, but haven’t buckled down and traipsed through the weighty (and lengthy) discourse on Christan Hedonism.  But it was perfect for today. That is how.  That is how I can bravely face whatever, can fill myself with God’s truth, can shine with the radiance of faith despite how the turmoil raging inside.  By delighting in God.  His assertion stems from two great thinkers:

Blaise Pascal:  All men seek happiness. This is without exception. Whatever different means they employ, they all tend to this end. The cause of some going to war, and of others avoiding it, is the same desire in both, attending with different views. The will never takes the least step but to this object. This is the motive of every action of every man, even of those who hang themselves.

CS Lewis:  …Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak.  We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered to us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.

I’ve read both of those things before, but tonight it struck me afresh.  My distress is not because I am evil for wanting a home and a paycheck and meaninful work.  My distress is simply because God has infinite pleasures at His right hand, and I am busy seeking lesser pleasures, which will never satisfy my soul.  Simple. I know. I am an immature Christian at best, still learning elementary things.  But better to learn the elementary things again than move on too fast and miss the foundational truths.  God help me. Help me to, like Leanna, fill my mind with Your truth, put my hope in Your Word, set my sights on Your promise.  Help me to desire true joy, true security, true intimacy with You.  Help me to delight myself in You.  You are all that is delightful.

Today was very much a day where selfish Kari reigned.  Determined to enjoy this time of “rest” and not sit around and think about how discouraged we feel that we don’t have a job and our house won’t sell and we’ve nothing to do but wait…we planned a family day with Dutch.  It’s $2 Tuesday so we figured for $4, we could spend the day at the zoo and then we’d been generously given a gift card to PF Chang’s restaurant, so we figured we’d use that and enjoy a big delicious mid-day meal and make it home in time for Jeff to leave for tutoring at 2:30.  And though the food was amazingly wonderful and Dutch did love petting the little baby goats, the rain poured on us (when will the sun come?!), and apparently every school district in Oregon had taken advantage of $2 Tuesday as well, so after peering over a sea of heads to get a peek at the reluctant wildlife, we were so cold and wet that when lunch time came we decided to forego the Northwest exhibits and head for cover and food.  As I said, lunch was delicious, but I understand now why people take their toddlers to McDonalds instead.  Our waitress was wonderful, but by the time we left there was more food on the floor, in Dutch’s hair, and on our clothes than in our bellies. 

So we came back with an exhausted, cold, wet toddler and all I could think about was how much I wanted to go home.  Home home.  A real home.  Jeff left for tutoring and I laid in bed and cried, exhausted, listening to Dutch cry in the room next to us, trying to settle his little overtired self down.  Why, God? We’re “living by faith”, we’re trusting You. Why can’t you just provide something, anything, for us?  Why?

And as I prayed, I thought of China.  I opened my laptop and searched China Earthquake, and began to read, and began to see. I searched until I found photos, dozens and dozens of them. Photos with warnings on them: Caution: Graphic Content.  The real stuff.  Small, children’s fingers poking out of a heap of rubble.  Rows and rows of bodies covered in sheets.  Wailing and weeping.  Collapsed schools–elementary schools.  Brave rescuers.  Pain.  Unmasked, hideous pain.  Why, God?  My little world enlarged beyond my own bedroom.  Why, God? 

Home.  That’s why.  This world is not our home.  The freedom we enjoy is the freedom that causes the pain that gnaws at us at night and steals our perfect joy.  We’ve chosen evil.  This world that’s full of the fallen, the sinful, the imperfect.  This world that’s under the sway of the evil one.  But someday, Behold, I make all things new.  Ahhh. Those words. Someday we will hear those words. Someday the One who created us will create again, a new heaven, a new earth.  He will wipe every tear from our eye, He will quiet us with His love and sing over us as we revel in His presence.  We ache because we were created for something greater.  I still don’t understand it all.  I still pray and plead with God to comfort those families in China right now who are suffering beyond my comprehension.  I pray that God would reveal Himself to them, that they would know Him and His Son Jesus Christ, the one who makes all things new.  I pray they, and I, and you, would know that what we long for is home. Our true home.  Our home with Him, for all eternity.  Home.

Ahhhh….TGIM.  This morning I slowly awakened to consciousness vaguely aware of a sweet sense that it was finally Monday.  Does that seem odd?  Well after a very busy week and an even crazier busy weekend filled with wonderful things–wedding/reunion with Corvallis friends, seminary family picnic day, a fabulous trip to the park with the Smiths and our boys, law school graduation (go Megan!), church, and a Mother’s Day celebration in Hillsboro–Jeff and I collapsed into bed last night exhausted, physically and emotionally.  For the last week I’ve had migraines off and on, but pretty much a steady I’m-being-kicked-in-the-head-by-a-horse headache persisted throughout the weekend.  And after tracking the patterns of these headaches over the past couple years I know the cause: stress. Yes, stress.  So, no surprise that while we’re dangling in the air, wondering what direction our life will take, my body shifted into survival mode and decided my head would suffer. And it did.

But after a long soothing talk with my friend Candi last night, my headache slowly drained away, and after curling up on the sofa with my grandma and eating two huge slices of apple pie while my dear cousin Cathleen chased around my son the tension slipped away as well.  That is until I got home and tried to order photos off Snapfish to utilize the free shipping deal that expired last night, then they messed up my order and overcharged me and the coupon wouldn’t work and of course there is no customer service online at 10pm Pacific time…stuff like that makes me crazy.

Anyway, all that to say that this morning I slowly awakened to a realization that today was Monday…the first Monday of no school, and the first of several days where Jeff and I are purposing to rest.  As I opened my eyes and rolled over and buried my face in my pillow, I saw a little piece of paper sitting next to me on the bed. I pulled it up and read, squinting from the light streaming through our window. It read:

Sauce–

Happy Sauce Day, A day when you will:

• Not do any dishes
• Not change any diapers
• Go for a walk with your boys
• Not have to drive or go anywhere
• Not go thirsty b/c your husband will keep water @ your side
• Be blessed and doted on

——

Oh how well he knows me! That’s my dream day. Sweats all day. No makeup.  Reading, sipping tea, writing, playing with Dutch.  The perfect remedy for migraines. The spirit of Sauce Day is to rest.  So for you, today, even though it’s Monday and you are at work or chasing your children or busy studying, take a moment, sip something yummy, read an inspiring sentence or quote, take a deep breath, and thank God for moments–even if only short moments–of rest.