Real Question #5: What About Boredom?

May I be candid?  Boredom is often a lack of vision and gratitude.  Hear me out.  When you lack vision and purpose, then you can easily feel like what you are doing is beneath you or insignificant.  But when you know the greater good or goal, then the mundane (which is still mundane) becomes part of a bigger puzzle rather than the end result.

For example, laundry wears me out.  It is tiresome, boring and never-ending.  But it is not the sum total of me as a woman, wife or mother.  It is a piece of the mundane that simply gets done.  Here is where the gratitude kicks in.  The other day, I literally said out loud as  I was changing the clothes over, “Thank you, Lord, that I don’t have to carry all these clothes to a river and pound them with a rock.  Thank you that I have machines that wash and dry them.  Thank you that I have clean water to wash them in.”  Granny always said, “Count your blessings.”

If you find you are “bored” with your life as a whole, then that is a great invitation to go back to the Lord to discover your strengths, dream and passions.  I am currently reading the  book, Your Strongest Life.  It is specifically written for women who want to live life to the fullest.  I highly recommend it as a temperature check on whether you are checking out, wimping out, or launching!

www.stronglifetest.com

Okay, okay, I am un-American…

Or am I?  We decided to break away from our traditional family gathering and head to the beach instead.  No problem, right? Wrong.

Traditions and perceptions of traditions are very, very weighty issues. Let me try to explain.  If you are born in the South, and you have a big family, and you cook, and you have birthed “grandchildren,”  then you go home for the holidays. If you don’t, this is almost grounds for stoning or disowning. Or both.

No one told me this. It is just what I have always perceived as truth. It is after all, the point of traditions. You do it the same way every year. From Hallmark to relatives’ comments and expectations, there is a credo of family rituals.  This credo is sometimes spoken of kindly or demanded at all costs.  Sometimes it is communicated in a cold, silent chill.  Attached to this credo is a guilt-producing factor that rings something like, “This ritual is a way of showing appreciation and love for your family.”

I don’t think I really got all this until I decided to forego the credo.  The pit in my stomach as I thought about telling my family that I wouldn’t be there was a great revealer of both the credo and my willing buy-in. But as I wrestled through this drama, I realized just how crazy all this pressure is.  The duty, the obligation, the guilt, the strain — it simply doesn’t add up.

For example, my friend is from Ohio and she doesn’t want to go home. So maybe it isn’t a Southern thing. My other friend has a big family and she’s not going home.  So maybe it isn’t a big family thing.   All of us have children (read grandchildren), but we are seeing their grandmas and grandpas at other special times. And the cooking thing, well, they don’t have Sister Schubert rolls for nothing.

What are we all doing instead of going home for Thanksgiving?  Being quiet, resting, spending time with “our” families. That doesn’t sound so evil does it?

Sure you don’t want to miss out on family gatherings every year. But you sure don’t want to go (and be miserable) just so you can check off a box. Maybe — just maybe — the credo has bullied us around long enough. What did my family do when I told them?  They said they would miss us. No threats, no dramas, no manipulation. That was all in my head. I know for some that would not be the reaction. For some it is downright emotional blackmail. But we always have a choice.

Here is the Scripture the Lord gave me:  “Better a meal of vegetables where there is love, than a fattened calf with hatred.”  I love my family, and they love me. Of course we will miss each other. But when I finally got the guts to tell them that I was breaking out of the mold, I felt really free. Free like I had actually chosen to love.

I chose to love “my” family by investing real down time with them. I chose to love my extended family by being honest —”I am tired and need a break.”  Besides, I wouldn’t be doing my family any favors by going out of duty and obligation. I chose to love myself by tending to my own heart instead of stuffing everything and pretending to play along.   And my own kids? They are learning that there are lots of ways to celebrate and be thankful.

Isn’t that the whole point?  To be thankful?  So take yourself off the hook. Use your voice and your spine if that is what it takes. And Be Real. . . Real about what you can and can’t do. Real about what you really need. Real about being thankful. Be thankful for times together and times apart.  One of my mom’s favorite verses is from Ecclesiastes: “There is a time for every season.”

Enjoy your Thanksgiving. I know I will.

Living the Gospel

As we continue to talk about Rest and the life of God in us, I want to share an excerpt about the power of the gospel.  The author’s definition of “gospel” is not just praying the prayer, but the death-to-life transformation that God has begun and will complete according to the promise through His Resurrected Son.

“In much of the popular writing on spiritual formation there is a tendency to convey a very stunted view of the gospel.  We get the idea that what unbelievers need is the gospel, and then, once they accept Christ as Savior, they move on to “needing  discipleship,” which consists of learning about Christ,  developing the fruit of the Spirit, learning how to have a quiet time, and so forth.

However, the picture that the New Testament gives is remarkably different.

We must remember the description  of the gospel as the power of God for the beginning, the middle, and the end of salvation.  Often we do not really understand all the vast implications and applications of the gospel. Only as we apply the gospel more and more deeply and radically —only as we think out all its truth — does it bear fruit and grow. The key to continual and deeper spiritual renewal and revival is the persistent rediscovery of the gospel.

All our spiritual problems come from a failure to apply the gospel. This is true for us both as a community and as individuals.”

page 32 of Spiritual Formation as if the Church Mattered, James C. Wilhoit

A Merry Heart – Friday Funnies

Regardless of whether you love animals like I do or not, this is hilarious. I found it at my vet’s office.

The Top 10 Reasons Your Dog’s Haircut Costs More Than Yours:

10 – Your hairdresser does not wash and clean your rear end.
9 – You don’t go 12 weeks (or six months) and never wash or brush your hair.
8 – Your hairdresser doesn’t give you a “sanitary trim.”
7 – Your hairdresser doesn’t clean your ears.
6 – You sit still for your hairdresser.
5 – Your hair cut does not include a manicure and pedicure.
4 – Your hairdresser doesn’t have to remove the “boogies” from your eyes.
3 – Your hairdresser only cuts the hair on your head, as opposed to your whole body.
2 – You don’t bite or scratch your hairdresser.

And . . .

The Number One Reason Your Dog’s Haircut Costs More . . .
The likelihood of you pooping and peeing on your hairdresser is slim.

God Story: The Power of Prayer

I have so many God stories of His supernatural provision that I could write 10 books. But Tuesday night I was basking in the beauty of one of my favorite answers to prayer.

My daughter, Salem.

We were in her room, full from birthday cake, waiting for the clock to display 8:38 pm — the time she had been born 12 years earlier. And like all kids, she was asking about who was at the hospital, what was the scoop, what was her story.

“What did Dad do when I was born?”
“He cried.”
“What were you doing?”
“Crying.”
“And Grandmaw and Grandpaw, what were they doing?”
“Waiting anxiously, then crying.”

“Salem, I don’t think you realize how many prayers were sent up for us to have a baby. There was much rejoicing when you were born,” I said.

And with that last comment came a flood of memories. Of churches, of youth groups, and women’s groups. Places where I had shared my story of abortion, heartache and healing. The outcry of these listeners had been to pray for God to bless Chuck and me with a baby.  After Salem was born, I found out that people in my church had quietly prayed that God would heal our hearts and bodies so that we would be able to have children.

Here Chuck and I were walking through the silent and grieving hell of infertility, but God was stirring His saints to pray nonetheless.

Pray they did. And He was pleased to answer.

Looking at this feisty, strong willed, solemn warrior-child before me, I was really amazed again at the mercy of God.

My thoughts turned toward heaven when I will see all those people who prayed for us, who never saw us again and never heard the rest of the story. When I see them in heaven, I can’t wait to introduce them to Salem, the answer to their prayers.

Oh pray without ceasing, believing that He hears our cries and intercessions.

“The prayers of the saints are like sweet smelling incense.”

Fleas

Don’t know if anyone else has indoor-outdoor pets, but this is the season of fleas. The warm and cold weather is like a breeding ground for these tiny annoyances. So what started out as a random event, “Hey look there is flea on my leg,” soon became a overwhelming lament, “Mom, there are fleas all over my room.”

Funny how fleas multiply so fast.  There’s probably a Biblical truth tucked away in there. But we called the Orkin man to treat the house and called the vet to get some Advantage Flea treatment for the cats and dog. However, the reason I write about this tiny but powerful menace is because they reminded me of a story.

Corrie Ten Boom was an amazing woman who survived  the concentration camp in Holland during the Holocaust. We read her book, The Hiding Place, out loud a couple of winters ago. Her story of walking through such hell and still holding on to God, and believing that God was holding on to her, was life-changing.

She recalls a time when the dorm she and her sister lived was unbearable. The building that had been built to accommodate 400 people now housed 1400. Too many women. Not enough food, water, space, or blankets.

It was infested with fleas.  Everywhere, all the time, they were covered with biting fleas. And there was no Orkin man to call.

But like the smallest of flames push back the darkest of nights, these two praying women continued to believe that God was able to meet their needs. In their smuggled Bible, they came upon Thessalonians where it says  to “give thanks in all circumstances.”   By faith they began to thank God for all the terrible circumstances they were living through, one by one. But Corrie and Betsy both stopped short: How do you thank God for fleas? Finally, they came to a place of trust and rest, that yes, even the fleas were part of God’s goodness to them.

Weeks later, they found out that the reason they had been able to openly read their smuggled Bible, lead weekly Bible studies, and publicly pray with the women in the dorm was because the guards would not step foot in their dorm…because of the fleas.

Will you go there? Will you thank God for all the bad, hard, hurtful, annoying, painful places in your life? Will you still praise His name?

God really is working all the things in your life, all your fleas, for your good. So thank Him, by faith, believing that He alone sees beyond your circumstances and what He is doing in you, and through you.

http://www.broadcaster.org.uk/section2/transcript/hidingplace.html