Why?
April 24, 2009 at 6:20 am (Personal reflection)
I often ask myself why I help with the Teen Parent ministry. Trying to find people to help kind of makes me feel like I have the plague. People form a wide swath around me in church, knowing I may ask them for help. Okay. Not really.
I often find myself with absolutely no passion for this work. The burden the moms carry is so heavy. You try to help them, and give them Godly wisdom. They get pregnant repeatedly. I love them, but hate the circumstances their choices have thrust their lives into. I have a bad attitude, wondering if I’m supposed to be doing something else for God that is really satisfying. And see results. You know, mass conversions and a write-up in World magazine.
Do I help because I was in a similar situation when I was young? I don’t know. That may have had something to do with it initially.
Do I help because I know God has called me to urban ministry, and this was convenient because it met in our church? Maybe a little.
Do I help because I love little kids and babies? Hmmmm. I really didn’t like kids until I had some. Then I only liked my own kids. But in the last decade, God has changed me, and I really do like kids. I’m not someone who looks forward to nursery duty and dreams of running my own daycare. I’m not much of a game-player, and don’t ask my kids what cute crafts we’ve EVER done. I’m the snuggler, and the listener as they grow older. Obviously, kids who don’t like to snuggle and don’t have much to say won’t connect too well with me. But I’m willing to try other avenues.
Anyway, I was wondering why the heck I still do Teen Parents after 5 years. Then God brought spring in her full glory, and I got to take the older children to Cooper Park to play Tuesday night.
This is Exzavier. He is 5 and can do cartwheels like a gymnast. He is very athletic. He seems smart, too. He has been in foster care a couple years, and has recently been returned to his mama. Back at Zion, I used to babysit him when he was a toddler, waddling around like an old man with a pot belly and a frown. Now he is aggressive and angry, and I have to constantly call him down.
He sucks his thumb in time out. Even though he called me a smarty-pants, he gave me a dandelion and two hugs before he left. We have a love-hate relationship. I can’t resist.
This is Exzavier’s little sister, Jaidah. She frequently just wants to sit on my lap and snuggle. Yep. She’s got my number. I’m helpless.
This is Diana and Yari. Their mommies have been coming since the beginning, just like Exzavier’s mommy. They are two peas in a pod, always finding games that exclude Kyra, who you will meet next. They are smart, charming and witty. I’m on to them, but I don’t let on.
Here is Yari almost eating sand. Why, oh why do kids do this? Do you know how many times I told the kids not to do this?
Here is Diana giving me the “look.” I would like to say I’m immune to the “look.” But then I’d be a liar.
This is Kyra, and her little sister Muhallah. They are two of the most beautiful children I’ve ever seen. They have sweet, sensitive spirits. I just like to look at them, like I do apple trees in blossom.
I’m the moth, and these kids are the flame. I want to take them all home. Marcus told me I have to stop helping with this ministry if I keep telling him this. I can’t change their circumstances. But I know Who can. I will keep praying for them, and loving them when I get the chance. I may have been led into this ministry for many reasons, but they are why I continue. Oh, Lord. Bless these children, so they may know your hope and salvation. Amen.
Don’t even get me started about the babies.
Canoe
April 24, 2009 at 2:59 am (Children)
Marcus bought his canoe in the 5th grade, at a flea market in Loveland, Colorado. He spent $125 of his hard earned paper route money. I would say it was definitely worth the investment.
The first time I met the canoe, I was pregnant with Ashley, and Marcus took me on an all-day ride down the Elkhorn River. Pregnant with no backrest, all day long. I have forgiven him. It has been 19 years, after all.
After we were married, I remember a late-night fishing expedition at Branched Oak, where Marcus stood up in the canoe and tipped everyone over. If only canoes could talk.
For many years, the canoe has been parked at our neighbor’s pond. Sometimes weeds grow around the canoe, and we’ll go all summer without finding it. Last spring the abundant rains almost sunk it, because the last canoe-ers had not turned it over when they were finished. Cousins and friends would come over, excitedly asking, “Can we go canoeing?” The answer was usually, “If you can find it.”
This spring the girls have used it many times, and have responsibly put it away so it can be found again. So when Rebecca asked me to take her canoeing today, I couldn’t tell her the canoe was lost. Instead, I told her if we got our yard work done, we could go. After a few minor setbacks, like my faux pas of inviting Maddie also, and the ensuing breakdown on Rebecca’s part, we went.
We saw goose feathers where there had been a nest, several fish jumping out of the water, a heron, a pheasant and a big, green bullfrog. Ick.
However, the best part was relenting to Rebecca’s request, and ignoring the call of the urgent for a while. How can anything be urgent on a day like today?
Trough
April 18, 2009 at 3:21 am (Personal reflection)
The Christian life is a series of waves: sometimes you’re on the crest, and sometimes you’re in the trough.
I’m in the trough.
I’m generally an optimistic person who has a purpose, and sticks to the task in an organized, efficient manner.
The last few weeks I’m not any of the above. I’m not sure when it started. It may have been my week of nausea. Or it may have been when I found out a girl who accepted Christ last year in Teen Parents decided to enter into a relationship with another female. Or that another girl, who is Katherine’s age, and has a beautiful baby, is having HUGE problems. HUGE is an understatement.
The downside to my optimistic personality is that when I’m feeling on top of my game, I don’t always have as much compassion with those not feeling like I do. I also have a harder time seeing my subtle sin. I’m just gettin’ her done, and not taking any prisoners. I’m not contemplating what is keeping me up there on that crest. Faith in my own efforts, or God’s efforts through me? I think I already know the answer to that one.
In the trough state, my subtle sin is not so subtle. I notice some embarrassing things about myself. Like reading an article about a Christian organization that I don’t always agree with doing some really good things. I don’t rejoice about this. I feel like saying, “That’s nice,” not so very nicely.
Why can’t I feel joy with them? I guess it is my pride, and that if the other party doesn’t agree with me, then no one should agree with them. Ewww.
The trough shows me my bad attitude about things I don’t want to do. Do I really want to have a bad attitude over 2/3 of my life? I mean, come on. How often do we actually get to do things we really want to do, that fulfill all our selfish desires?
I also realize how much I worship “safe” and “comfortable,” to the point I’m willing to give up a lot for these things. Like not selling myself out completely to Christ. Like not even enjoying life to its fullest, now. Prudence is good. Being practical and having common sense is good, too. But it definitely isn’t all there is. I want more than “safe.”
At least I can see the wave threatening me. I have called out to God this week, asking Him to have his way with me. Show me all the ugly stuff – let me repent and turn from it. Help me have an attitude that looks for opportunities to glorify You in every situation. Help me not just to focus on end results, but the processes to get there. Help me not to worship my 90-foot idols called “SAFE” and “COMFORTABLE.” Show me how to lay down my life for You. Help me rejoice when someone does something in your name, even if I don’t agree with them. Thank you, Lord, for sustaining me. Through the crests and the troughs.
C.S. Lewis explains these troughs much more eloquently than I in The Screwtape Letters. Here is the demon Screwtape explaining the situation to the young Wormwood:
Their nearest approach to constancy, therefore, is undulation – the repeated return to a level from which they repeatedly fall back, a series of troughs and peaks. If you had watched your patient carefully you would have seen this undulation in every department of his life – his interest in his work, his affection for his friends, his physical appetites, all go up and down. As long as he lives on earth periods of emotional and bodily richness and liveliness will alternate with periods of numbness and poverty. The dryness and dullness through which your patient is now going are not, as fondly suppose, your workmanship; they are merely a natural phenomenon which will do us no good unless you make a good use of it.
To decide what the best use of it is, you must ask what use the Enemy wants to make of it, and then do the opposite. Now it may surprise you to learn that in His efforts to get permanent possession of a soul, He relies on the troughs even more than on the peaks; some of His special favorites have gone through longer and deeper troughs than anyone else… It is during the trough periods, much more than during the peak periods, that the patient is growing into the sort of creature He wants it to be. Hence the prayers offered in the state of dryness are those which please Him best.
Amen. Even if I don’t feel like it, God is at work in me.
Giving in to my bad self
April 15, 2009 at 9:08 pm (I'm not sure what this has to do with anything.)
I have been way too serious lately, and am finally giving in to the temptation to share my chuckle with everyone else, at someone else’s expense, of course. Enough commas for you?
I deposited a check this week from Kay Mart. I smiled. I put the check on my desk and smiled some more. Then I just deposited it with the rest of the plain-named checks, to be remembered no more. Until I put her name in Quickbooks today. At least I waited until today. That doesn’t make it as bad that I told everyone, right?
For years we have had a loyal customer named Merlin Butt. Thankfully for him, his last name is pronounced “boot.”
Katherine, Haley, and I were discussing who Haley would marry someday, and if the first name would go with the last name. You know, 15-year-old stuff. I voted she marry one of the Dalys, then she would be Haley Daly. Love. It.
When my sister-in-law, Naomi, got married, I wrote a song for her that we sang at her wedding reception. She married a Reed. She was a music major. We sang it to the Hee-Haw song, “Where, where, are you tonight?”
On down the road they will start having children
Claire Annette Reed will be their firstborn.
She’ll be a beauty with blond hair and blue eyes
Will she play the piano, trombone or french horn?
Here is the first girl in the Reed family: Claire Ann. They just couldn’t do it. I call her Claire Annette anyway. Her mom said they might have to change it.
P.S. If Claire Annette isn’t funny to you, here it is: Clarinet, which is a REED instrument. Ha. Ha. Get it?
$1.00
April 7, 2009 at 7:48 pm (Children, Personal reflection)
Maddie is my bulldog. She is a very laid-back person, but when she gets her mind set on something, she won’t let go. She has heard the three “quit-pestering-me” responses more than any other kid:
Ding-a, ding-a, ding-a. Quit dinging me! (I say this with a Eastern European accent)
Drip, drip, drip. You’re a dripping faucet!
And last but not least:
If you ask one more time, I’m just going to say “NO!”
Several years ago, she went to a soccer clinic with her favorite cousin. She loved it. She immediately wanted to play soccer. I said, “Right.”
I don’t think I’m callused, but when you have multiple children, you sometimes don’t take a first request all that seriously. Besides that fact, none of my kids have been interested in sports. Marcus and I both played sports, and it is a bit surprising no one cares a lick. But there it is.
So I was a little slow to believe Maddie was really interested. She informed (I use this word on purpose) a family friend and Avid Soccer Fan that she had told her mom she wanted to play, and mom wasn’t doing anything about it. Avid Soccer Fan asked me what was up. I replied, guiltily, I would have to get on it. And Maddie kept asking, on and off, for a LONG time.
We just started our 3rd season. Maddie is tickled, even though she played 3 games the last two weeks in freezing temperatures. We are in a recreational league, which means the kids are just doing it for fun. This is good, since Maddie’s team went defeated last year. Maddie likes the girls, her uniform, and learning about soccer, but games still make her a bit nervous. She is not Pele (he was the star when I used to pay attention to such things), but she keeps persevering, and never complaining.
I decided I have something to learn from her bombarding personality.
In Tim Keller’s study on prayer, he talks about 3 principles of kingdom-centered prayer: it is extraordinary, prevailing, and repentant. The prevailing point got me. God shows us a bunch of people nagging Him in the Bible, and He wants them to.
You have the woman nagging a judge to give her justice in Luke 18:1-8.
Then there’s Abraham pleading for Sodom and Gomorrah in Genesis 18. Can you imagine asking God for the sixth time, “What if only ten can be found there?” I can’t. Just hit me with the bolt of lightening. I cringe whenever I read that.
How about Jacob demanding that he won’t let go of God until He blesses him in Genesis 32?
This leads us to Jonathan Edwards’ sermon called “The Way to Obtain the Blessing of God is Not to Let Him Go Except He Bless Us.”
To begin with, it is always good to define why we shouldn’t be pestering God:
- We think we deserve anything.
- Our good things become ultimate things, and we can’t imagine going on without them.
Then why is it our duty to press God in prayer?
- It gives us a deep recognition of our dependence on God. When we get blessings without prayer, we’re blind to our need for Him.
- We will be prepared to rejoice in God as the author of all blessings. We can see His graciousness and goodness. We’ll find delight in mundane things like normal health, income, family life, and relationships. Sounds like contentment to me.
- When we pray corporately, the attainment of blessings creates community. It helps us feel support and solidarity when we know others are praying for us. When we pray for our church, it makes us look to God instead of blaming others for any flaws in the church’s life.
In closing, D.M. Lloyd-Jones quotes Thomas Goodwin:
Do not leave him alone. Pester him, as it were, with his own promise…Quote the Scripture to him. And, you know, God delights to hear us doing it, as a father likes to see this element in his own child, who has obviously been listening to what his father has been saying.
God says even sinful parents want to give good gifts to their children. Think about all the good gifts our gracious Father wants to give His children. Not just the little things, like a relaxing weekend. I’m talking about BIG things, like $1.00 churches. If we’d only ask. And keep asking.
*Maddie’s persistance is the only original thought I contributed to this, besides the last paragraph. Tim Keller’s Corporate prayer: Three principles of kingdom-centered prayer provided the rest.
Snow? Let’s garden!
April 5, 2009 at 1:59 pm (Grow)
What do I do when I hear I’m in for nasty, wintry weather? Play in the garden, of course.
I bought rhubarb, asparagus, garlic and onion plants this week, and my fingers were itchin’ to get them in the ground. So I did.
I bought 4 big packs of these baby onions, and pooped out after planting 3 packs. I know. I’m a wimp. But I was afraid I would run out of room for anything in the garden besides onions.
Those are the asparagus pits. You don’t finish filling them up with dirt until the asparagus starts growing.
This is the hole I noticed when I first went out. When I was digging, I looked up, and saw a ground hog filling up that entire opening. I swear. I sprinted for my camera, but the ground hog showed himself no more.
My little goldfinches chirped away as they gorged themselves on black sunflower seed. Remember when their feathers were dull? See this. They’re ready for courtin’ now.
I finished up as much as I was able, then headed inside for a change of scenery. Later in the afternoon, it started raining on my freshly planted garden.
So delicious.
I’m aware that some people are under a foot and a half of snow today. But we’re not. And I’m thankful.
Silver lining
April 1, 2009 at 2:03 am (Children, Personal reflection)
I took off last week for spring “break.” It was the first time I had ever called off our school this time of year. I checked out books from the library, planned a couple of field trips with the kids…you know, like a vacation. However, like expandable foam, everything else filled in my time, and there was no break to be seen.
God has a way of giving us a break, when we won’t take one ourselves. Mine is called a fever, with a side of nausea.
After I had been lying on the couch half the afternoon, finally reading my books, Rebecca became concerned. She got out her book-making supplies, snuggled in on the other end of the couch, and happily started drawing the first character of her book, asking me about hair and lip color. She would color many samples on scratch paper, hand them to me, and ask for my favorite.
Half of me was sad, realizing I don’t sit down enough. My kids have to squeeze in when I’m down. But the other half of me was happy, thinking if I’ve got to be down, I get to see Rebecca content and satisfied to be with her sick mama. There were other perks.
Marcus kept the fire blazing for me, with our newly hauled wood.
Fluffy kept a watchful eye on me through Jake’s drool on the window.
And my books were within arm’s reach, when I wasn’t picking out lip and hair color.
I also had a good excuse not to drive all over tarnation to music lessons. But don’t tell the music teachers I said so. Ashley took Maddie to the orthodontist for me, too. Ash was able to get her permanent retainer fixed while she was there. Botta-bing.
Maybe I should slow down more often.
It all makes sense now
April 1, 2009 at 1:25 am (Home)
When I was 3 years old, Mom ordered orange, corduroy wingback chairs. I remember making forts with the boxes in the basement. I also remember teasing her countless times about the “ugly, orange wingbacks.”
Years ago, I got it in my head to paint my bedroom “Tuscan Terra Cotta,” and made no connection with the ugly, orange wingbacks. Mom made the connection for me.
Little did she know that it wasn’t childhood nostalgia that overcame me, but my foresight in accessorizing with my almost year-around household intruders, ladybugs. It almost looked like I planned it that way.
