Almost 5 years ago, my husband’s birthday fell on Easter weekend. For a minister, there couldn’t be worse timing! I began seeking a way to make his birthday meaningful in the midst of all the busyness of Easter season.
At that time in our lives, we celebrated a Seder meal on the Saturday night before Easter with some of our closest friends. Seder is the Jewish Passover feast. These friends introduced me to the idea of a Christian celebration of Passover. It became one of the most meaningful events in my year. Traditional Seder is a family celebration around the dinner table. The story of the Passover is told through the symbols of food. These friends were our family in that city and I told them about my desire to honor my husband’s birthday. We all decided that Seder was a great time to do it. Bob, one of our friends, set himself to researching Jewish birthday traditions in the spirit of Seder.
He discovered a Jewish tradition of claiming a Psalm each year. In fact, the tradition states that your age is the number Psalm that is yours for the year. You meditate on it, love it and wrestle with it for a year. The moment for my husband was beautiful, affirming and meaningful! Just what I was hoping for.
The unexpected part of that moment was that I have claimed that tradition for my own. Each year I rest in “my Psalm” for an entire year. I think I might have mentioned that I turned 30 back in February. While I was not dreading that birthday at all, the 8 weeks since have been a nightmare! Because of all that has gone on in our lives during that time, I had not had time to claim my Psalm.
Please don’t misunderstand me. There is not a sacred ceremony to claiming it or anything. But I do like to have a quiet moment to read it for the first time that it is mine. I want to savor the first time I read those words as my own and wonder about all God will do in the next year of my life. I finally had my moment on Sunday.
My soul has been feeling like my yard and flower beds look: like winter. The grass is dead and brown, still waiting for warmer weather to wake it up. The only things living in the yard are fire ants! My flower bed is empty of meaningful blooms and full of nasty weeds. I am in need of spring. I long for warmth to return to my heart. I want the weeds gone and beautiful spring blooms to fill my mind. I desperately desire to shake off winter and welcome new growth.
Here is my Psalm for the year. Feel free to make it yours if you can feel the sun in its words and a warm wind in the movement of phrases.
Psalm 30
1 I will exalt you, O LORD,
for you lifted me out of the depths
and did not let my enemies gloat over me.
2 O LORD my God, I called to you for help
and you healed me.
3 O LORD, you brought me up from the grave;
you spared me from going down into the pit.
4 Sing to the LORD, you saints of his;
praise his holy name.
5 For his anger lasts only a moment,
but his favor lasts a lifetime;
weeping may remain for a night,
but rejoicing comes in the morning.
6 When I felt secure, I said,
"I will never be shaken."
7 O LORD, when you favored me,
you made my mountain stand firm;
but when you hid your face,
I was dismayed.
8 To you, O LORD, I called;
to the Lord I cried for mercy:
9 "What gain is there in my destruction,
in my going down into the pit?
Will the dust praise you?
Will it proclaim your faithfulness?
10 Hear, O LORD, and be merciful to me;
O LORD, be my help."
11 You turned my wailing into dancing;
you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
12 that my heart may sing to you and not be silent.
O LORD my God, I will give you thanks forever.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Wrestling
My son has taken to wrestling us for items that we try to take away before he is ready. In all fairness, he’s 17 months old. However, I didn’t get the memo that third children start the terrible two’s at 16 months old!
Last night after dinner, he was sitting at the kitchen table coloring. It is his new favorite thing to do. When it was time to go get a bath, he refused to give up the marker. Instead, he screamed, held the marker close to his chest and shook his whole body in a resounding “NO!!” Wow. That was fun.
Later that night I found myself in a very similar situation. Except this time, I was the child instead of the parent. As I lay down to sleep last night, I became very aware of how precarious life is. I don’t just mean life and death, I mean this experience we call life. For instance, our oldest has an MRI on Thursday. Her neurosurgeon will be checking her spine for compression points. If he finds any, she will face another surgery. She has already undergone four surgeries in her short six years of life. Our minivan, the hub of any large family’s existence, is dying a slow, painful but sure death. We really can’t afford to replace it but fixing it is like putting a band-aid on a tumor.
Just two examples of what was running through my head last night. As I lay there, I began wrestling with God about them. He says to trust Him with those things. He even has the audacity to tell me not to worry or be anxious in anything. How can a mother not worry about the health of her child? How can I not worry about our precarious financial situation? Life is fragile.
But instead of calmly laying those matters at the throne, I fought for them. I would be less of me if I turned them over. I pride myself on my ability to juggle a thousand china plates at a time without breaking a one. But in truth, I feel so overwhelmed by their weight.
I can’t comprehend a life without worry or anxiety. It seems to me that would be heaven. Can a human really live without worry?
I was thinking about Jacob and how he wrestled with God. To be honest with you, I always wondered why. It seems to be such a weird story to me. Who could possibly expect to win a wrestling match with God?
Today, it doesn’t seem so strange. I may not limp, but there sure are dark circles under eyes.
Last night after dinner, he was sitting at the kitchen table coloring. It is his new favorite thing to do. When it was time to go get a bath, he refused to give up the marker. Instead, he screamed, held the marker close to his chest and shook his whole body in a resounding “NO!!” Wow. That was fun.
Later that night I found myself in a very similar situation. Except this time, I was the child instead of the parent. As I lay down to sleep last night, I became very aware of how precarious life is. I don’t just mean life and death, I mean this experience we call life. For instance, our oldest has an MRI on Thursday. Her neurosurgeon will be checking her spine for compression points. If he finds any, she will face another surgery. She has already undergone four surgeries in her short six years of life. Our minivan, the hub of any large family’s existence, is dying a slow, painful but sure death. We really can’t afford to replace it but fixing it is like putting a band-aid on a tumor.
Just two examples of what was running through my head last night. As I lay there, I began wrestling with God about them. He says to trust Him with those things. He even has the audacity to tell me not to worry or be anxious in anything. How can a mother not worry about the health of her child? How can I not worry about our precarious financial situation? Life is fragile.
But instead of calmly laying those matters at the throne, I fought for them. I would be less of me if I turned them over. I pride myself on my ability to juggle a thousand china plates at a time without breaking a one. But in truth, I feel so overwhelmed by their weight.
I can’t comprehend a life without worry or anxiety. It seems to me that would be heaven. Can a human really live without worry?
I was thinking about Jacob and how he wrestled with God. To be honest with you, I always wondered why. It seems to be such a weird story to me. Who could possibly expect to win a wrestling match with God?
Today, it doesn’t seem so strange. I may not limp, but there sure are dark circles under eyes.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Princess
Being the mother of girls is a chance to revisit joys of my own childhood. I love to play dress up! Now I get to play alongside my own children. My girls love to change clothes over and over becoming one character and then another. Their favorite dress up game involves becoming a princess. Chose any Disney princess and they have accumulated articles necessary to become that lucky girl.
First, the appropriate ball gown is chosen. It is complete with sequins and tulle. Next, the perfect shoes must be chosen. The best are the plastic imitation glass slippers. A most important piece follows and that is the crown. We have many to choose from in different colors and styles. All are made with rhinestones and plastic painted silver or gold. One cannot forget the matching plastic and rhinestone jewelry. Finally, the newly created princess proceeds to the throne in the playroom. The throne is a beanbag chair with the faces of princesses on it. The princess takes her seat. She smiles from ear to ear to reveal precious baby teeth. Orders are given with the wave of a scepter and loyal subjects quickly follow them. Sometimes such power is taken advantage of as orders are given to bring out the play makeup as well. These orders are usually followed by sheepish grins and a chorus of, “Please, Mommy!” that is sung in at least six syllables.
There are times when I smile at imagination gone wild. I’ll give in and pull out from the unreachable shelf a case of makeup. Bright green, blue, and purple eye shadows are applied with fingers to all areas of the face. Lip gloss is smeared in thick layers and sometimes even highlights teeth. Body glitter is rubbed from head to toe. It brings out subtle color changes even in hair.
One could say that they are just being girls. And I suppose there is truth to that. Little girls love to dress up. I don’t think that desire ever goes away. Big girls may not have the opportunity to put on their princess dresses very often but we sure enjoy a good makeover. Cosmetic counters and beauty salons rely on that yearning to stay in business. And when we can’t have a makeover ourselves there is always a good makeover show on TV. We can watch others makeover their wardrobes, their makeup, their hair, or even their homes.
The problem with these makeovers is that they leave us incomplete. Soon a new look becomes old. That perfect outfit that made us feel so beautiful looses its power. The roots begin to show again and our bangs need a trim. THE color yesterday is outdated today. Our makeovers are an endless race to achieve the impossible.
God did the original makeover show. Makeovers are His business. He eradicates our poor attempt at princess attire and clothes us with robes of purple. He takes off our tacky, play makeup and replaces it with true beauty. He removes our fake dollar store jewelry and adorns us with grace. He combs out the rat’s nest we have created in our hair until it is smooth and shiny. He does away with our rhinestone and plastic tiara to crown us with His righteousness.
“I delight greatly in the LORD;
My soul rejoices in my God.
For he has clothed me with garments of salvation
And arrayed me in a robe of righteousness,
As a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest,
And as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.”
Isaiah 61:10
First, the appropriate ball gown is chosen. It is complete with sequins and tulle. Next, the perfect shoes must be chosen. The best are the plastic imitation glass slippers. A most important piece follows and that is the crown. We have many to choose from in different colors and styles. All are made with rhinestones and plastic painted silver or gold. One cannot forget the matching plastic and rhinestone jewelry. Finally, the newly created princess proceeds to the throne in the playroom. The throne is a beanbag chair with the faces of princesses on it. The princess takes her seat. She smiles from ear to ear to reveal precious baby teeth. Orders are given with the wave of a scepter and loyal subjects quickly follow them. Sometimes such power is taken advantage of as orders are given to bring out the play makeup as well. These orders are usually followed by sheepish grins and a chorus of, “Please, Mommy!” that is sung in at least six syllables.
There are times when I smile at imagination gone wild. I’ll give in and pull out from the unreachable shelf a case of makeup. Bright green, blue, and purple eye shadows are applied with fingers to all areas of the face. Lip gloss is smeared in thick layers and sometimes even highlights teeth. Body glitter is rubbed from head to toe. It brings out subtle color changes even in hair.
One could say that they are just being girls. And I suppose there is truth to that. Little girls love to dress up. I don’t think that desire ever goes away. Big girls may not have the opportunity to put on their princess dresses very often but we sure enjoy a good makeover. Cosmetic counters and beauty salons rely on that yearning to stay in business. And when we can’t have a makeover ourselves there is always a good makeover show on TV. We can watch others makeover their wardrobes, their makeup, their hair, or even their homes.
The problem with these makeovers is that they leave us incomplete. Soon a new look becomes old. That perfect outfit that made us feel so beautiful looses its power. The roots begin to show again and our bangs need a trim. THE color yesterday is outdated today. Our makeovers are an endless race to achieve the impossible.
God did the original makeover show. Makeovers are His business. He eradicates our poor attempt at princess attire and clothes us with robes of purple. He takes off our tacky, play makeup and replaces it with true beauty. He removes our fake dollar store jewelry and adorns us with grace. He combs out the rat’s nest we have created in our hair until it is smooth and shiny. He does away with our rhinestone and plastic tiara to crown us with His righteousness.
“I delight greatly in the LORD;
My soul rejoices in my God.
For he has clothed me with garments of salvation
And arrayed me in a robe of righteousness,
As a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest,
And as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.”
Isaiah 61:10
Monday, March 10, 2008
Truth in Worship
Do you ever find yourself suddenly wondering about the words to a song that you have been singing in church for years? That has happened to me twice in the last few weeks. Both of them were centering around the same idea. Here are the lyrics, "And we sing glory, honor, power and strength to the Lord." "Power and majesty, praise to the king." "Praise and glory, wisdom and thanks, honor and power and strength...Be to our God forever and ever."
So here is what I have been wondering: do I actually have these things to give to God? Can my singing those words make them true? Do I have power or strength or wisdom to bless God with? And even if I did have those things to present as a gift, does God need them? Isn't He already all of those things without my "wishing" them to Him? I realize that all of these songs are quoting Scripture and that is one of the main reasons we sing them. But, that doesn't answer my questions. Even when the elders in heaven are singing these words around the throne, do they have those things to give to the Lamb?
I'm not trying to be difficult or obnoxious in my questions. I desire truth. I want to offer God praise that I can "back up", so to speak. After all, who would want to write God a hot check? I love each of the songs above and love how I feel when I sing them. I desire for God to have and be all of the things described. But, am I the one who can offer them to Him? If not, can I sing those songs with a clear conscious? What do you think?
So here is what I have been wondering: do I actually have these things to give to God? Can my singing those words make them true? Do I have power or strength or wisdom to bless God with? And even if I did have those things to present as a gift, does God need them? Isn't He already all of those things without my "wishing" them to Him? I realize that all of these songs are quoting Scripture and that is one of the main reasons we sing them. But, that doesn't answer my questions. Even when the elders in heaven are singing these words around the throne, do they have those things to give to the Lamb?
I'm not trying to be difficult or obnoxious in my questions. I desire truth. I want to offer God praise that I can "back up", so to speak. After all, who would want to write God a hot check? I love each of the songs above and love how I feel when I sing them. I desire for God to have and be all of the things described. But, am I the one who can offer them to Him? If not, can I sing those songs with a clear conscious? What do you think?
Monday, March 3, 2008
I repent!
It's been a month, I think, since I wrote here! I'm so sorry. I don't have a brillantly horrible story to tell you about why I haven't written. I just haven't. Here are some brief updates from the last month.
I turned 30. On Ash Wednesday. Does the irony catch anyone else?
I had one the worst stomach bugs of my life. 'Nough said.
I was honored to speak at a retreat for wonderful women from Sonrise church in Gainseville, TX. It was a joy to be with them.
This weekend I am home with what I think is the flu. My two girls have gotten sick as well. I kept the kids home from church yesterday. When Chad came home (with fast food) we had "family church". It looked like this: I was lying on the couch with chills. Chad and all three kids were crammed on the love seat with Bible storybooks surrounding them. He must have read 10 as they sat there and the girls just ate up that time with their daddy. It was a sweet a moment to witness. Then they sang songs to God. My husband is a gifted worship leader and I am so often amazed at God pouring out through him. But, seeing him scrunched on a love seat with our children and praising God with them brought tears to my eyes. Chad's gifts bless 1,500 people every Sunday morning. But yesterday, I was so honored that we are on this path of life together because I was moved at his tenderness and joy in sharing praise with our kids.
I turned 30. On Ash Wednesday. Does the irony catch anyone else?
I had one the worst stomach bugs of my life. 'Nough said.
I was honored to speak at a retreat for wonderful women from Sonrise church in Gainseville, TX. It was a joy to be with them.
This weekend I am home with what I think is the flu. My two girls have gotten sick as well. I kept the kids home from church yesterday. When Chad came home (with fast food) we had "family church". It looked like this: I was lying on the couch with chills. Chad and all three kids were crammed on the love seat with Bible storybooks surrounding them. He must have read 10 as they sat there and the girls just ate up that time with their daddy. It was a sweet a moment to witness. Then they sang songs to God. My husband is a gifted worship leader and I am so often amazed at God pouring out through him. But, seeing him scrunched on a love seat with our children and praising God with them brought tears to my eyes. Chad's gifts bless 1,500 people every Sunday morning. But yesterday, I was so honored that we are on this path of life together because I was moved at his tenderness and joy in sharing praise with our kids.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Highest Place
Have you ever heard that poem about giving everything to Jesus? You know…offer him your spouse, your kids, your job, your house, etc? After you truly give those things to him, he will give them back to you as his gift. I understand what the author was trying to teach: everything in our lives is a gift from God. But I think maybe there should have been another part of that poem.
The stanza that talks about loving your spouse as a reflection of God. The line that says that caring for your children well is a service to God. The idea that your job is a way to connect with people who may not know God. Or, this one stings, that maintaining your home is good stewardship.
Yesterday in church we sang, “Highest Place”. It is a beautiful song talking about placing Jesus, the great High Priest, at the top of our lives. As I sang and listened, I wondered how one really does that. I can’t sit around and meditate on the goodness of God all day or my children will go hungry. I can’t single-mindedly pray all day or I won’t get any work done. Jesus in the highest place of my life colors how I do all the things I do in a day.
Here’s an example: Monday mornings are hard at my house. They probably are at yours, too. Monday’s are not fun here because our oldest goes back to kindergarten after a weekend of watching cartoons and playing a lot. She is usually running late on Monday mornings and a little grumpy. Our middle one woke up ready for a fight this morning because her older sister gets to go to kindergarten while she is stuck home with mom. The baby is always tired on Mondays because Sundays are just hard on little ones. My husband is worn out on Mondays because Sunday is his hardest day. I was staring at a week that I had to hit the diet hard again and knowing that I turn 30 in just two days. Now if I had woken up with Jesus in the highest place:
Working out could have become a time of worship; honoring the temple that His Spirit is housed in.
Motivating a kindergartener could have been about calling on her God given ability to learn and connect with others.
Disciplining a four year old could have been about lovingly shaping a strong will to better reflect God.
Cuddling a tired baby could have been about administering grace.
Encouraging a tired husband could have been about respecting the rhythms of Sabbath and work.
I need Jesus in my highest place because I fail miserably without him there.
The stanza that talks about loving your spouse as a reflection of God. The line that says that caring for your children well is a service to God. The idea that your job is a way to connect with people who may not know God. Or, this one stings, that maintaining your home is good stewardship.
Yesterday in church we sang, “Highest Place”. It is a beautiful song talking about placing Jesus, the great High Priest, at the top of our lives. As I sang and listened, I wondered how one really does that. I can’t sit around and meditate on the goodness of God all day or my children will go hungry. I can’t single-mindedly pray all day or I won’t get any work done. Jesus in the highest place of my life colors how I do all the things I do in a day.
Here’s an example: Monday mornings are hard at my house. They probably are at yours, too. Monday’s are not fun here because our oldest goes back to kindergarten after a weekend of watching cartoons and playing a lot. She is usually running late on Monday mornings and a little grumpy. Our middle one woke up ready for a fight this morning because her older sister gets to go to kindergarten while she is stuck home with mom. The baby is always tired on Mondays because Sundays are just hard on little ones. My husband is worn out on Mondays because Sunday is his hardest day. I was staring at a week that I had to hit the diet hard again and knowing that I turn 30 in just two days. Now if I had woken up with Jesus in the highest place:
Working out could have become a time of worship; honoring the temple that His Spirit is housed in.
Motivating a kindergartener could have been about calling on her God given ability to learn and connect with others.
Disciplining a four year old could have been about lovingly shaping a strong will to better reflect God.
Cuddling a tired baby could have been about administering grace.
Encouraging a tired husband could have been about respecting the rhythms of Sabbath and work.
I need Jesus in my highest place because I fail miserably without him there.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Longing for More
I have a new favorite book and it is by an author that I have loved for a while now. "Longing for More" by Ruth Haley Barton is a discussion of women's spiritual transformation. While there a lot of great books out there about spiritual formation, I love this one for several reasons.
1. Ruth describes transformation as a journey that takes place along the path of life. So, it is spiritual transformation to learn to be a wife or mother. It is spiritual formation to learn to love your own body. Ruth embraces the idea that the spiritual disciplines are to help us find the significance in living life as it is laid before us.
2. Ruth devotes one chapter to the role of women in the church. Her scholarship is outstanding but I like what she says because it is born of her own experiences. (If you pick this book up, make sure and read the endnote about 1 Timothy. I learned so much!)
3. In the last chapter, Ruth summarizes the entire book in a way that I have always felt but never been able to articulate. The reason we have to talk about why women should be transformed is that we are trying to be like Jesus. Ruth is not advocating a feminist movement within the church because that is all about women. She is saying that women are called to be like Jesus and their paths have been blocked by some old ideas. It is time that the church be the advocate of all of their members being transformed into the image of Jesus.
Amen!
1. Ruth describes transformation as a journey that takes place along the path of life. So, it is spiritual transformation to learn to be a wife or mother. It is spiritual formation to learn to love your own body. Ruth embraces the idea that the spiritual disciplines are to help us find the significance in living life as it is laid before us.
2. Ruth devotes one chapter to the role of women in the church. Her scholarship is outstanding but I like what she says because it is born of her own experiences. (If you pick this book up, make sure and read the endnote about 1 Timothy. I learned so much!)
3. In the last chapter, Ruth summarizes the entire book in a way that I have always felt but never been able to articulate. The reason we have to talk about why women should be transformed is that we are trying to be like Jesus. Ruth is not advocating a feminist movement within the church because that is all about women. She is saying that women are called to be like Jesus and their paths have been blocked by some old ideas. It is time that the church be the advocate of all of their members being transformed into the image of Jesus.
Amen!
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