Category: Uncategorized (Page 53 of 188)

The prayer of a righteous one…

Today I stood in a McDonalds, waiting on my McLatte, reminded of wonderful breakfast memories I had with a bunch of kids on Wednesday mornings. Of course, we had the awkward silences here and there, the days when taking prayer requests consisted of anatomy projects and English tests. But I adored those mornings, praying for whatever conversation arose. 

I distinctly remember one morning; the conversation somehow had come up regarding an article in Relevant magazine, and I’m pretty sure Anna either brought it up or had read it at the same time I did. The article covered pastors who struggled with addictions to pornography. 
Note: if Anna was present, this was my first year in the youth director role. Genius material to discuss. 
I don’t recall the course of the conversation, but 7:35 quickly approached and it was time to pray out. One of the kids – Scott? Anna? Mary? I wouldn’t put it past any of them – said, “I think we should pray for these pastors.” 
And my heart melted a little more for the innocent ones who recognize that all have fallen short, that all struggle, that none can be put upon a pedestal of perfection. Their prayers were authentic. Their prayers didn’t even know the whole story, yet they they wanted, somehow, for God to take action in the hearts of unnamed people. 
Today that same former youth called me and we briefly chatted about the fallenness of yet another in the field of ministry. I looked up the reports online and my heart just sank. Disappointment. Grief. Frustration. Emotions on behalf of the young girl and her family. Emotions on behalf of the church family left to wonder. Emotions for this young man who allowed the grip of sin to take control and so many will feel the consequences of it.

I can only hope there’s a small group of high school kids meeting in the morning and the Spirit falls upon them to pray. Not just to point and fault and shame, but to ask God for healing. For everyone.  

I want you to want me

It’s naptime, we had a great morning and I sit down and think, “I should write something. Something brilliant. Something witty. Something to lighten a sunny Saturday.” 

Instead, you’ll get something honest. 
I hit my zero-point this past week. As a family we endured 2 straight weeks of illness, someone falling to pray (or sit upon) the porcelain god, with a recovery rate of 4 days. On average. Ah yes, the flu. 
Everyone gets the bug from time to time. It infests households, moms wash loads of pukey sheets and hold back precious hair. Cartoons available in limitless availability. Cooking slows to chicken soup and jello. And then we go back to work. 
Except, when you don’t. 
As my first battle with the sick germs while staying home with the kids full-time, coupled with the duration in which it stuck around – seriously, 2 weeks is not a “24 hour bug” – I walked stumbled crawled away from the experience enlightened about the toll in which simple setbacks can take on the homefront. 
While I thank my lucky stars I have the privilege to choose to stay with my kids, I’m aware that in so doing, a person trades one set of stresses and frustrations for another. Because there are no profitability studies on clean-plate battles or naptime struggles (let alone a per-dishwasher-unload analysis), it’s tough to compare apples to oranges. The truth is, kids need the person caring for them much in the way that any job needs to be done. 
The neediness of a child can’t be compared to the neediness of a functioning adult. Cuddles and hugs may seem elective, but in the development of children I assure you, they’re not. I don’t need to preach this if you’ve ever put a kid to bed at night. By nature, kids need love and attention. And when kids are sick, their pickiness and finickyness grows while their patience decreases exponentially. 
While it sounds okay in theory, the reality of “needing mommy” is simply exhausting for any normal functioning human when endured for an extended period of time. That’s why God created them to be only 24 hour bugs, right? And for those of us without much outside-the-home responsibility, we enjoy freedom to sit and cuddle and be needed. Yes. We have no fear that the work project goes untouched. 
But it still doesn’t alleviate the weight of always being needed. 
Stand this in stark contrast to the isolation of SAH-motherhood, where rarely are you “wanted.” No one stops by your cube to walk for a cup of coffee. No one randomly IMs you to do an enjoyable recap of Modern Family. Actually, seldom arrives a personalized email in any form asking you to function as a contributing member of society. 
Other moms probably do this SAH thing better than I; they’re connected to other moms for playdates, library storytimes and church MOPs**. Don’t get me wrong, they exist around here, but germy kids aren’t really welcome. So even if my phone was constantly text-alerting (because really, who calls anymore?), engaging during flu season poses a bigger challenge. 
So it really wasn’t the puke. Or the laundry. Or even the whining. 
I didn’t hit zero out of frustration, I landed there because of isolation. To be needed is to live up to your duty. But to be wanted is to be loved. 
Seasons change; summer brings a new look upon my lifestyle (especially with a teacher-husband and a lakehouse full of family). Even spring and fall pose a few more opportunities to get out and about and interact, if even for a walk around the block or a trip to the park. So it’s for such a time is this that I endure. I realize it’s not forever – in fact, it will evaporate before I have the good fortune of being fully grateful for it. 
On the one hand, I must stop the wallowing and see the big picture. On the other hand I make room to admit and accept the truth about what is an isolating experience. 

Juicy fruit (it’s gonna move ya)…

We live in a results-driven culture. When I would do phone interviews, we were trained in behavioral-based models because “past performance predicts future behavior.” So we sought out specific situations, action and results for competencies the employer desired. Our education system leans heavy on results, wanting to test for competency.

It’s not necessarily bad; however it allows little room for character-based assessment. When we become obsessed with results, productivity and evidence, how do we account for things such as honesty, faithfulness, hard-working, empathetic and consideration for others? How are those elements measured and scaled?

If you ask me, this quandary puts us in quite a predicament when it comes to asking what we hope to see from our children. As parents, or even as people who are focused on the growth of souls (young and old), we want to be able to know when we’re doing the right things or when we’ve done a good job. What will we look for in 1, 5 and 15 years from the individuals we’re invested in? What will be the markers?

And how do we not create markers via mass production? How do you honor the beauty of the individual without writing off shortcomings to simply “I yam what I yam”? I “yam” naturally self-centered and controlling, but there’s no reason anyone should expect me to sit and fester in such behavior. I believe we can challenge others to a higher standard in certain ways, but I don’t believe we should seek to make people someone they were not created to be.

So, as I often ask myself, what does that look like?

Jesus gave us a depth of wisdom in the book of Matthew when he talked about a tree. Essentially, you will know a tree is good by its fruit. A good tree puts out good fruit. A bad tree puts out bad fruit. The point isn’t to have the most and best of fruit, but rather use the fruit to gauge what’s really going on in the tree.

What if we imagined each of our children as a small seed. Unless you’re a practicing botanist of sorts, you probably cannot tell exactly the make and model of plant based on the size. Rarely can you ascertain color or size of the tree or plant it will become. So you put the seed in the ground. You water and care for it. You keep the dogs from walking all over the soil. If it doesn’t rain, you hose it down.

It might be an apple tree. Or a mustard tree. Or an olive tree (which I recently learned lives for 500 years!). As nurturers of the tree, our job isn’t to dictate what type of fruit is produced. Our role simply provides as best possible for that tree to produce good fruit. The fruit will be used in many, many ways. Food, juice, seasoning, oil… and really, how the harvest gets put to use probably isn’t much concern for the tree-nurturer either.

I hope, as a parent (and really, as one who wishes to help develop souls), I can learn to water and provide light without judging my little trees on the types of fruit they bear. I pray I don’t see apples and wish for olives, which tend to bring in a bigger price per bushel. And as fruit appears, it’s my goal to keep in mind the health of the fruit, a quality that can only come from a tree filled with vitality.

Ultimately, I must remember that I did not create the seed. That determination came from the start. God asked me to participate by nurturing, not controlling. God doesn’t give us peaches and ask us to convert them to pears. He gives us seedlings and says: Feed. Water. Care. Give it the best shot to a healthy and robust life. We’re not hear to change people, we’re here to grow what God has already planted.

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