Sacred Mundane: The Blog

This week I had the now-rare experience of being on my own.  Jeff is always gone Mondays and Tuesdays for class and teaching, and this week he was at a Spiritual Warfare retreat Wednesday through Friday, then Saturday he had a leadership mini-retreat for the day with Foothills.  Mom and Dad are in Montana on vacation for ten days.  So, for the better part of six days, the Dutcher and I were home alone.  Jeff made me promise that I would not waste my time doing practical things like cleaning the house and painstakingly organizing our life (which is my default mode), but to spend some time doing enjoyable things, like reading.  The week before, my sister-in-law Nikki gave me a year’s worth of my favorite magazine, Real Simple.  So, after Dutch was in bed, I’d curl up with my magazine and read.  Though certainly a secular magazine, one article rang true in my heart, the subject of which was that not everyone in the world will like you.  I know.  You must be thinking, “Wow, Kari, you’re just now figuring out that lots of people don’t like you?  I could have told you that!”  But really, we are just approval-addicts and people-pleasers, and the way this particular author worded her article, it really made sense to me. 

She talked about our flavor.  What is my flavor? Am I chocolate milk or coca-cola or (more likely in my case) green tea?  Are we spicy or mild?  She explained that the only thing in the whole world that everybody likes is water, because it has no flavor.  But we are not like water, we have flavor, and it only follows that some people will naturally like our flavor and some naturally won’t.  That’s ok!  Now, don’t get me wrong, this is not a license to be offensive.  Certainly if people do not like us because we are proud or rude or arrogant or haughty or insensitive, then that is a problem–and we need to fix it.  But, I’d say I’m far more likely to err on the side or worrying about people liking me, rather than erring on being rude and mean to people.  (If I’m wrong in that and you think I’m really rude please email me rather than posting a comment in response!) 

Jeff has been a major catalyst in my journey with freedom in this area.  A few weeks ago, I was having a difficulty in a relationship.  He saw that I was agonizing over it, worrying about it, and obsessing over doing the right thing, saying the right thing, making everybody happy.  He pulled me into his arms and just began telling me all the things he loved about me, specifically.  I cried as I laid there, in his arms, showered with his words of affirmation.  He kept saying, “Just be you.  Just be you.”  I realized as I let the words sink in, that that was all I had to do.  I’d been clinging to the verse, “As much as depends on you, live at peace with all people,” but I think I’d misinterpreted the “as much as depends on you” to mean “as much as depends on you . . . and it all does!”  The truth is that it doesn’t.  I’m still going to do all that I can to live at peace with all people, to be accomodating and adaptive in order to bless those around me as best as I know how, but really, when I start to think that it’s my job to make everybody around me happy, I’ve bought into a lie that places far too much importance on one person–me. 

So, I’m learning.  I am a flavor only.  In this huge mix ingredients, I am but one.  God knits us all together and creates a delicious concoction using us all.  While we should all be able to fit together, it is not my job to do this.  He’s the one who makes the flavors blend. 

So what flavor are you?  The more I write, and the more I do character sketches, the more I want to learn about people.  People are fascinating!  One night this week, while Jeff was gone, one of my best friends came over and spent the whole evening with me.  We ate cookie dough (can that be my flavor?!) and sat on the counters and talked and played legos with Dutch.  It was a rare time because we were in no hurry.  Dutch went to bed, Jeff was gone, and it was just the two of us, with nowhere to go.  I confessed to her that I can spend hours online looking at house plans.  She admitted that she goes on Craigslist everyday and looks at Mazda 3s.  I learned more about her flavor.  And now, I value her and love her even more, because I know her just a little better.  That’s why, even though I despise forwards, I really love those little questionairre things that get sent around every few months.  Sure, some of the questions are corny, but that’s the point.  I love reading them because I learn about the person’s flavor, and usually, the more I understand a person, the more I can love and relate to them.  Sure, there’s risk in being us.  The risk is that we’ll expose our flavor and people will say, “Yuck!  You taste like Brussels sprouts!”  But, don’t give up.  Give it some time and keep exposing your flavor.  You might just be an acquired taste. 

This weekend at the Writer’s Conference I attended, one of the questions we were asked was, “Why do you write?”  They encouraged us to understand our mission statement, our purpose, in order to propel our work forward by a central driving vision.  So, I’ve been thinking about this.  And, you’d think I’d write down why I write, huh?  Well, eventually I will.  Right now, here are thoughts from John Piper on reading and writing (given to me by my ever-encouraging husband), to which I would give a hearty “Amen!”  I pray we all will ripple throughout this world!

— 

I’ve been thinking again about the importance of reading and writing. There

are several reasons I write. One of the most personally compelling is that I

read. I mean, my main spiritual sustenance comes by the Holy Spirit from

reading. Therefore reading is more important to me than eating. If I went

blind, I would pay to have someone read to me. I would try to learn Braille.

I would buy “books on tape.” I would rather go without food than go

without books. Therefore, writing feels very lifegiving to me, since I get so

much of my own life from reading.

Combine this with what Paul says in Ephesians 3:3-4, “By revelation there

was made known to me the mystery, as I wrote before in brief. And by

referring to this, when you read you can understand my insight into the

mystery of Christ.” The early church was established by apostolic writing as

well as apostolic preaching. God chose to send his living Word into the

world for 30 years, and his written Word into the world for 2000+ years.

Think of the assumption behind this divine decision. People in each

generation would be dependent on those who read. Some people, if not all,

would have to learn to read—and read well, in order to be faithful to God.

So it has been for thousands of years. Generation after generation has read

the insights of its writers. This is why fresh statements of old truth are

always needed. Without them people will read error. Daniel Webster once

said,

If religious books are not widely circulated among the masses

in this country, I do not know what is going to become of us

as a nation. If truth be not diffused, error will be; if God and

His Word are not known and received, the devil and his works

will gain the ascendancy; if the evangelical volume does not

reach every hamlet, the pages of a corrupt and licentious

literature will.1

Millions of people are going to read. If they don’t read contemporary

Christian books, they are going to read contemporary secular books. They

will read. It is amazing to watch people in the airports. At any given

moment there must be hundreds of thousands of people reading just in

airports. One of the things we Christians need to be committed to, besides

reading, is giving away solid books to those who might read them, but

would never buy them.

The ripple effect is incalculable. Consider this illustration:

A book by Richard Sibbes, one of the choicest of the Puritan

writers, was read by Richard Baxter, who was greatly blessed

by it. Baxter then wrote his Call to the Unconverted which

deeply influenced Philip Doddridge, who in turn wrote The

Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul. This brought the

young William Wilberforce, subsequent English statesman and

foe of slavery, to serious thoughts of eternity. Wilberforce

wrote his Practical Book of Christianity which fired the soul of

Leigh Richmond. Richmond, in turn, wrote The Dairyman’s

Daughter, a book that brought thousands to the Lord, helping

Thomas Chalmers the great preacher, among others.2

It seems to me that in a literate culture like ours, where most of us know

how to read and where books are available, the Biblical mandate is: keep on

reading what will open the Holy Scriptures to you more and more. And

keep praying for Bible-saturated writers. There are many great old books to

read. But each new generation needs its own writers to make the message

fresh. Read and pray. And then obey.

Pastor John

Motherhood can be discouraging.  I just spent 1 1/2 hours rocking Dutch trying to get him to sleep and finally gave up and now he is just in his crib crying.  Jeff is gone at class from 7:45am this morning until 9:30pm tonight.  I am staring around me at the toys strewn around the living room that is not mine.  Mom and Dad are gone to Montana for a week.  It is a beautiful day and I want to go for a walk or a run or do something other than sit here out in the boonies listening to my son cry on the monitor. 

 But there is grace for today.  Many of you who know me know that I want to write a book entitled The Sacredness of the Mundane, essentially about glorifying God and finding meaning and purpose in every detail of life.  This is certainly not a new concept.  Brother Lawrence practiced the presence of God, AW Tozer disdained the sacred-secular duality, and John Piper celebrates drinking orange juice to the glory of God.  But I want to devote an entire book to it, from a woman’s perspective, with a fresh new twist for today.

 So what is sacred in my situation right now, as I sit, listening to the rustling of Dutch on the monitor as he’s finally settling himself down to sleep (or he’s just standing up in his crib playing quietly — at this point I don’t care which it is)?  Well, first of all, I can rejoice because I know that God is on the throne.  He is in control of my circumstances, and, because everything in my life has been God-filtered, it is for my good.  So, instead of feeling trapped by living out here at Mom & Dad’s house, I can thank God because He’s decided, in His infinite goodness, that somehow it is better for my sanctification (the process of being like Christ), that I be out here.  Besides, I look out the window at natural beauty–sunlight, blue sky, trees, orange and brown and yellow leaves, sparkles of water droplets on the still-green grass of fall. 

Jeff is gone all day, which makes me sad, but I can recognize this as an opportunity to spend extra time with the Lord and  writing, since I won’t be spending time making dinner.  I also praise God because Jeff is away studying God’s Word!  Praise God that I have a husband who loves and enjoys and knows God more than he loves and enjoys and knows anything else in life.  Praise God for that! 

Because I was desperate to get out of the house, I drove Dutch in the Molalla park, where we swung and toddled around on the grass.  While I was there, I ran into two girls from High School.  I didn’t know them well, as they were several years younger than me, but we recognized each other and shared the commonality of little ones, and were able to talk, as we are all believers, about the things God’s done in our lives the past 10 years.  I also exchanged phone numbers with one girl, so we can meet at the park more often.  That is huge!  If I didn’t live out here in the middle of nowhere, and if I hadn’t felt trapped and alone with Jeff gone, I never would have driven all the way into the park.  But I went, and they were there, and God was in that encounter. 

 . . . now it is much later in the day and Dutch has finally fallen asleep.  Thank You, God.  I recognize this blog entry isn’t very profound–just some thoughts throughout a somewhat taxing day.  But now, the house is quiet, Dutch is asleep, Jeff is still at school, and I am alone, sweetly, deliciously alone to enjoy some sacred moments . . .