the s-word

4 01 2012

Submission. or, the s-word as some Christian women call it- can raise feelings of anger, injustice, pain and resentment. For me, submission recently brought the word ‘gratitude’ to mind. As some of you may have seen from the picture I posted on Facebook, I inadvertently dyed my hair royal blue five days before Christmas.

 

"it looks cool, but this isn't Lollapalooza 1994" -my brother Matt's response to my blue hairdo.

As I was watching blue foam drip off of my head as I shampooed out what I thought was toner that would give me a more platinum blonde do’, I peeked out from behind the shower curtain to look in the mirror and saw myself in unexpected smurfette glory. I posted the picture online for my friends to laugh at because as I said then “better to laugh than cry, and even better to make your friends laugh than wallow in shame.”

I quickly called my salon, Crazy Mullets to see if my stylist could rectify my hair so I wouldn’t have a blue Christmas. My stylist being on vacation & unavailable that week I booked an appointment with another stylist.  In the back of my mind I was thinking- “this is going to cost $80-$100. We really don’t have extra money this month because of Christmas. Oh well, having cute hair is worth it.” I explained the situation to Dave when he got home amidst Reuben’s exclamations of “your hair  looks so pretty mommy!”  and that I had an appointment at the salon that afternoon.

You know those scenes in action movies where two characters who are about to fight just stare at each other while dramatic music plays in the background? It was a little like that as Dave and I faced off in the battle of “back to blonde.”

well, maybe not as bloody as the Kill Bill movies......

Dave presented two problems with my proposed scenario. 1. He had a lot of work to do that afternoon and didn’t have time for me to spend hours at the salon rectifying my beauty blunders.  2. Fixing my self-inflicted problem would cost $80-$100 we hadn’t budgeted for the month.  ”Where do you plan to have this money come from?” Dave calmly asked as I told him I was unwilling to cancel my appointment, had no idea how to dye my hair back, and that a professional should really be the one to fix my mistake. Before you judge me for what I said to him, take a quick look back at my blue hair. I had BLUE hair! There was no way I was going to have family Christmas pictures with BLUE hair.

“I thought we could use some of the money that we’ve saved for our 10-year anniversary trip.” I replied (not even a bit sheepishly- oh! what a jerk I can be). Dave looked at me, shook his head and sadly sighed- “now that’s just cold.” He had to ask me three times to cancel my appointment, to look up hair-dying accident remedies online, and to take responsibility for fixing my own hair. “you made one mistake today dying your hair blue, you can make a choice not to make a second mistake by being committed to our financial goals and not using money we don’t have.”

In the end I submitted to his wishes. I looked up home remedies for removing hair color and proceeded to wash my hair seven times with laundry detergent. I Mixed baking soda with dandruff shampoo and washed it another 5 times and still I had blue hair. After my numerous unsuccessful attempts to remove the color, we decided that I should check Sally Beauty supply for a more potent color remover. I ended up spending $20 instead of $100 and didn’t piss off my husband (for too long) in the process. And my hair is back to blond.

One of the most difficult scripture passages women and men have grappled with is Ephesians 5:22-33 where it talks about wives submitting to husbands and husbands loving wives.  As I thought about what this scripture meant in this particular context it seemed especially funny that Paul, the author of Ephesians wrote about a husband being the head of the wife, and a husband loving his wife as his own body. I’m sure he didn’t picture both spouses having blue hair. I chose to submit to Dave’s request that day because I love him. More importantly, I love Jesus and know he wants and has the best for me as I submit to him. In Paul’s instructions to spouses, I know I can trust Dave to love me sacrificially because Jesus leads his life.  Dave was loving me through remaining me of the financial goals we had made together to benefit our family.  He was loving me by asking me to take responsibility for my mistakes and not doing something stupid because I’m ridiculously vain (my words, not his) and didn’t want to have to explain my blue hair to people. I chose to submit because I know my husband wants the best for me, and I want him to know I listen to him and respect him.

I know I’ve been writing recently about marriage & relationships but as the subtitle of my blog says- it’s ordinary interactions like this that reveal what it means to follow Jesus, to submit to your husband and be loved as a wife. It’s times like this where our the feet of our theology hit the cold hard cement on the sidewalks of life. And it’s the ordinary interactions like this that reveal Jesus in extraordinary ways.


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wife points

28 12 2011

“you don’t get wife points for calling your husband a butt” our babysitter Nita guffawed after my derogitory derriere related remark directed at Dave while frantically racing around the kitchen trying to load the dishwasher with cereal bowls, put away the milk and get out the door to get some work done.

A few weeks before that I had been at Nita’s dorm room to pick up the kids after she and her roommate Rachel had kindly watched them so Dave and I could see a play (the perks of working with college students!).  Rachel, Nita and I have ongoing conversations about gender roles in society, the church and marriage- the fun things you talk about in college when you’re trying to figure out- “what does it actually mean to be a woman?” and “what sort of a woman am I/do I want to become?” “what sort of wife will I be?”

On their dorm wall a piece of notebook paper was taped with both of their names on it, and a series of tally marks.  ”What’s the chart for?” I asked, glancing at Rachel as I loaded Oswald into his carseat.  Nita’s face began to turn red and she started laughing as Rachel smiled and said- “that’s our wife training chart. We give each other points for doing things that will make us good wives someday.”  Knowing that neither Nita or Rachel, funny, smart, ambitious, hipster students came to college to get their M.R.S. degree, I curiously asked, “so what kinds of things do you get wife points for?” Inwardly I was thinking:  there has to be an off the charts wife point tally for having sex with your husband when you don’t feel like it but decided it probably wasn’t a good idea to suggest adding that to the chart for two unmarried college students.

After regaling me and laughing together about their list of doing dishes, changing a diaper for the first time thanks to my 5-month old son, dressing stylish, and cooking/baking I drove home that night recalling doing something similar in college.  My roommates and I, trying to imagine what it would be like to be a wife someday dressed up in a bubble-gum pink Lawrence Welk-esque dress and took turns posing for pictures with a pan of meatlof ready to load into the oven. I’m away from home currently and don’t have access to the picture but the one above is pretty close to what we looked like (complete with heels).

Their wife points chart made me think about what I thought it would be like to be a wife when I was in college.  And then it made me reflect on what life has actually been like for nearly 10 years.  Shakespeare wrote in Hamlet; “there is always truth in jest” and though posing with pans of meatloaf and making tally marks for changing diapers  is an amusing way to try and envision what life as a spouse looks like, it points to a deeper fear of constrictive gender roles.  The questions lurking in the back of my mind all those years ago, and I suspect in Nita and Rachel’s ask “will I be able to be both feminine and powerful?” “Can I be both ambitious and loving?” “will I have a spouse that encourages me to pursue my dreams and gives me the freedom to do so?”

My list of “wife points” would be very different than when I made that proverbial list in college. The list would include things like:

  • Picking up pumpkin bagels for your husband just because he likes them. Wife points: 10
  • Forgiving your husband when he breaks a lamp while using it to illuminate a wall where installing an outlet instead of using a flashlight. Wife points: 15
  • Listening to stories about sports/kung-fu/hunting/electronics/star trek and being glad to hear about it because it’s something your husband loves and you want to care for him. Wife points: 25
  • Sampling your husbands home-brewed beer or other creations with believable enthusiasm (aka- I’m happy you have a hobby). Wife points: 40
  • Successfully navigating creating a three-month schedule of events, childcare responsibilities, and work travel while remaining kind and peaceful. Wife points: 50
  • Choosing to love your husband and bake him cookies for Valentines day even though you are still smarting from the hurtful things he has said the day before and not holding a grudge and actually being happy to see him. Wife points: 75
  • Respecting the committments you have both made to be financially prudent and stick with a budget, sucking it up and returning the killer ankle boots that were 70% off and resisting the mental sound track of “I deserve these.. he never lets me buy…he just bought a….I need these…” Wife points: 125
  • Having sex with your husband after a day of cleaning poop off of children, making dinner, cleaning the house, having a 2-hour conference call to plan an event, writing a talk that you have to give the next day and choosing to emotionally engage with each other while being intimate. Wife points: off. the. chart.

Being a wife is far harder than I ever imagined it to be. Actively forgiving is more difficult than scouring a pan crusted with burnt-on grease.  Choosing to love requires much more than the effort than putting on a pink chiffon dress and looking pretty. Believing you are each others advocates instead of enemies requires the kind of love Paul talks about in 1 Corinthians 13:4-  “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

For many those words have long been forgotten after they’ve been read by your second cousin who your mom required to do something in your wedding ceremony. Yet they become much more potent in the years after the honeymoon is over. Especially on the days where you call your husband a butt because you’re mad at him. So friends- my question to you is what would make your wife points list?  How is being a wife more difficult or better than you thought about before you got married?


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I’m not the girl I used to be

7 04 2011

Twigs + logs + matches + newspaper = fire. At least for a girl who spent the first 17 years of her life growing up in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula where I’d wager that many kids learned the skill of how to build a fire amongst other skills like ice fishing, downhill & cross-country skiing and how to swim in Lake Superior just long enough until your toes feel numb.

Say yah to da U.P. eh!

Recently my friend and colleague Grace spent a weekend in a lovely log cabin, tucked in the back of a generous person’s property, overlooking a stream and surrounded by woods. Though the two of us usually run the gamut conversationally from what’s happening in our respective jobs as regional coordinators with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship, to our kids, to what the latest celeb fashions are, to what we’re reading on blogs or in books, this weekend was set aside to spend some time in silent reflection, journaling, prayer and listening to what God might have to say to each of us. Bonus to not have to be woken up in the morning by our children and be able to enjoy coffee and omlets together!

When I saw that the cabin had a fireplace I envisioned sitting in the rocking chair, reading or journaling while letting my thoughts drift as I gazed into the dancing flames of a fire, I of course would successfully build.  Though it was a little damp that day, I gathered twigs for kindling, brought in logs from the stack outside the cabin to dry off a little and got the fire going in the late afternoon so we could enjoy it as the sun set.

yesss, perfect on a damp spring evening!

I got to work crumbling newspaper, building a web of twigs under the logs and strategically lighting the newspaper so that everything would catch, which it eventually did flaring up into yellow flames.  And then it flickered out. Repeat newspaper, twig web, log shifting. At least four more times. As I’m hunkering down sticking my head into the fireplace to try and help the back of the fire catch, I mumble an apology to Gracee for how loud I’ve been building the fire as she’s been silently journaling. With a slightly concerned look on her face, she simply remarks, “uh, no problem, it’s actually kind of fascinating watching you do this.”

At last the fire seems to catch. “Success!” I exclaim as I settle into the rocker with my book and mug of tea. “I’m impressed” Gracee nods as she looks up from her journal. “White girl skills!” I reply to my bi-racial friend who grew up in Detroit and once told me that she thought werewolves were simply a breed of wolves.

The logs burn for awhile, but all the time I’m thinking- “this fire looks like it’s about to go out any minute. Mother of pearl, I just want to sit here and enjoy it and now it looks like I’m going to have to get up every 10 minutes to stick in some more twigs, shift the logs and basically keep this thing going.”  And because it’s a silent prayer retreat I start asking, “Is there some deeper meaning here Lord, like, it takes continual effort to follow you or something like that?” Because when you’re on a silent retreat, you start wondering if there’s meaning in a splenda packet because you go expecting to hear from God. So when the fire starts to fizzle after about 20 minutes, burning the log only in one place I decided to concede, just let it go and look at those stupid ashes in the hearth reminding me of what a failure I’ve become at building fires. I eventually moved to another couch so I wouldn’t have to look at the charred logs.

stupid half-burned log.

Though in high school or even awhile into college I could successfully blaze it up with the right tools those skills seem long gone.  On our drive to the cabin, Grace and I talked about how when you get reconnected with someone or something from your past it can spark nostalgia and even an urgency to want to reconnect with who you once were or the things you once did.  In my fire fail, it made me think about all of the skills I’ve left behind in becoming who I am today. While there might be some sadness that I’m not a wilderness mom, I’ve traded those fire building skills by choosing to focus on a lot of other areas in my life that I’d rather see bursting into sparks and igniting into flames.

It’s thrilling to see a light dawn on a student who begins to realize how much God loves them and begins a relationship with Jesus. It’s amazing to see the spark of an idea of helping to raise awareness about and money for human trafficking on the college campus turn blaze across InterVarsity nationally to help students live out and speak about their faith in holistic ways.  It warms me to see my son’s eyes squinched up as he prays before meals, “God bless the food, bless the people in Japan whose houses got washed away and cars got washed away” after seeing video footage of the destruction in Japan.

Have you had any of those nostalgia moments recently? Where you wonder- how the heck did I change so much? Why the heck can’t I do these things I once was good at any more? How did you respond?

Next time I'm getting a duraflame log. Or just bringing my woodsy husband along.


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melts in your mouth, not in your hand.

29 03 2011

Though the chocolate may melt in my mouth, I still have blood on my hands. A few weeks ago I was supposed to give a talk at Oakland University on Everyday Justice drawing from themes from Julie Clawson’s book by the same name.

As I did research, read her book and scoured online articles and websites I thought about themes on everyday justice that would connect most with students living in the affluent suburbs that border derelict Detroit; While cars and clothing might have been good choices for a school where students sport coach tennis shoes & drive Escalades but chocolate seemed like an easier thing to tackle in a 30 minute talk on why following Jesus means we should care about justice issues.

Check out Julie's book and website at: http://julieclawson.com/everyday-justice/

I started to dig a little to find out how purchasing one of my favorite sweet treats can be a choice for everyday justice.  I felt like Neo being sucked into the Matrix for the first time, without the creepy plug being inserted into the back of my neck- “you think you see the world correctly? Well, let me show you what’s actually going on…” I started to learn some things like:

  • 43% of the world’s chocolate comes from the West African country of Ivory Coast.  Most of the cocoa beans are harvested by young boys between 12 and 16, some as young as 9.  These boys have been sold or tricked into slavery with the promise of a better life and supporting their family.  Stories like Brahima and Siaka’s are common:  ”Dote Coulibaly was waiting in Korhogo. He needed two boys to work on his cocoa and coffee farm. Coulibaly (COO-lee-baa-lee) said he bought Brahima and Siaka for $28 each, but the boys said he paid that much for both of them. Whatever the price, two days later they found themselves on his farm. ”When we arrived, he had not told us the whole story,” said Brahima. “He told us we would work only in the cocoa and coffee fields. But there were also cotton, yam, corn and rice fields. When you finish one field, you go to another and another.” Nearly half of the world’s cocoa beans come from Ivory Coast farms, some of which use boys like Brahima and Siaka who were sold or tricked into slavery to do the harvesting.”

Often boys are beaten if they can't carry the bags or spill cocoa beans.

 

  • Americans spent $13 billion a year on chocolate- yet most of us, including myself had no idea where it came from or how it was produced (uhhh, I bought the twix at Walmart…?)
  • Though the U.S. and international governments have been working to establish slave-free chocolate through initiatives created in 2001 like the Harkin-Engel protocol, little has been done in companies like Nestle, Hershey or Mars to actually comply with these protocols and eliminate slave-produced chocolates in their goal of doing so by 2005.

While over the past six years I have worked with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship staff and students to raise awareness about and funds to eliminate child sex slavery- I’ve realized the issue doesn’t stop there. Especially now as a mom I am horrified and angered to think that the bunnies and eggs I am stuffing my sons easter basket were produced by someone’s son or brother who was forced into slavery. The chocolate may melt in my mouth, but I still have blood on my hands.

As a Christian, I care about this issue and ending human trafficking at large because Christ’s love compels me to love my neighbor.  Thinking about the injustice and sacrifice of others makes me think about how to appropriately celebrate Easter this year, both commercially and spiritually.  The scripture in 2 Corinthians 5:11-21 especially hits home in thinking about both of these issues; “For Christ’s love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died.  And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again“

I seriously could not believe this was one of the images that came up when I searched "snickers" in google images.

Because God made a way to demonstrate love and freedom for me through Jesus, how can I do anything but demonstrate this same love for others?

Practically one of the ways you can live out everyday justice regardless of your spirituality or motivations is to use your cash.  There are great companies that provide fair-trade chocolates especially for Easter.  Since I really am a sucker for advertising, I was thrilled to realize many products are also cute & kid-friendly.

I thought this was a cute twist on the traditional basket.

 

The Natural Candy store, a mom & sister store has a lot of cute items for Easter that are fair-trade, organic and in many cases allergen-free, including the cute item pictured above.

Divine chocolate is co-owned by cocoa farmers and uses fair-trade practices.

Divine Chocolate also has some fun Easter themed candies, like one of my personal faves- the crunchy speckled eggs that you can order through their website or purchase at Whole Foods.  Divine has a cool story & their website is worth checking out to see some of the great things that are being done to change the chocolate industry.  Though it may be something small like spending less on Easter Candy at Target, it really does feel great to know you can be part of changing the chocolate industry, savor the chocolate as it melts in your mouth, and know that you are creating a better future for others.


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mailman alex

3 03 2011

MAILMAN ALEX!!! DO YOU HAVE MY HENRY TRAIN!!! Reuben belted out whenever he saw our friendly mailman Alex heading down our sidewalk wondering if his missing train had arrived in the mail. (thank you carole for sending it!)  This summer I noticed our mailman sitting in his mail truck munching on a sandwich reading sports illustrated on his lunch break. At times I was a little irritated that he’d park in front of his house, guilty that I was inside enjoying air conditioning while he was sitting in a hot mail truck, or wondered if anyone ever invited him in for a meal or glass of water.

rain or shine, Alex always comes through and brings my weekly fix of Entertainment Weekly!

While I was still on sabbatical one of the most significant differences I noticed in my life was the ability to spontaneously care for and serve the needs of others.  Though I was writing papers and reading a lot, my thoughts weren’t occupied with the next talk I had to write and deliver, the next set of fundraising appointments or meetings to attend.  I found myself being much more attentive of the small ways I could care for people.  It felt great to cook a meal for a friend and her family after hearing she had thrown her back out. I enjoyed time to stop and talk with my elderly grandmother without needing to rush off to the next thing.

 

On one of those days we saw Alex the weather had turned colder yet he still sat huddled in his truck, eating his sandwich listening to his iPod.  We had some leftover soup and Dave was home for lunch that day so I asked him to invite Alex in for lunch with us.  Though it wasn’t much, Alex seemed glad to share a meal with us and tell us a little about his life. Turns out he has a son a little older than Reuben that he had with his ex-wife so we had a lot to talk about what it’s like to have a preschool boy. Reuben also thought it was pretty cool that Mailman Alex got to eat lunch with us.

so much of life happens around meals. even if you're a vampire who doesn't actually eat food.

Now that I’m back at work, pregnant and managing all the other areas of life the mental and emotional space to spontaneously care for others seems to be squeezed out by deadlines, errands and the feeling that I won’t be able to accomplish all that I have in a given day.  Things like being able to invite our mailman in to eat lunch with my son and husband seem like one extra thing to do in the day beyond all that I already have going on.  But that’s the difficult thing about caring for others- it’s rarely convenient.  This was probably the biggest thing I learned during my sabbatical year- my ministry often gets in the way of my witness. Though I am doing good things with college students what happens when I’m off the clock?  What about all the people around me that need to see Jesus demonstrated in practical ways, want someone to genuinely listen and care for them and simply recognize that they are present? I know I can’t do this all the time, but each time I see Alex’s mail truck in front of our house I find myself wondering what it will take to invite him into our lives again without running through the mental to-do list first.

How about you? Where do you find yourself struggling to make space for spontaneous service? What are ways it’s just become a normal part of your life?  There are so many people I know that do an amazing job of just making it a priority like they do with any other important thing in their life.


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out of the boat living

1 03 2011

While I’d rather be like Andy Samburg sporting a nautical themed pashmina afghan on a boat, life has felt much more like the disciple Peter- half-sinking, half-having faith that Jesus is able to grasp ahold of me and keep me from drowning.

where would you rather be?

Our move to Cleveland was in many ways been an experience of stepping out of our own comfortable nautical vessel- being near family, having a secure funding network in a job that requires us to raise 100% of our support (Grand Rapids consistently ranks high among charitible giving across U.S. cities), and all the other comforts that living in one place for 10 years affords.  It took us two years of praying about moving to Cleveland to finally pack up the u-haul, or what was actually a trade show trailer from a deer farm (thanks C.J. & Adrian!) and get our butts to the shores of Lake Erie.

As we consistently sensed Jesus inviting us to trust him that Cleveland was the land he wanted us to go to-  we started joking that we shouldn’t imagine Cleveland as the promised land. We joked that just because Jesus was inviting us to put down roots, buy a house, make some more babies and get involved in the community didn’t mean it would be without challenges.  I know the worlds “cleveland” and “promised land” seem like oxymorons, but to us trusting and believing that God wants good things for us even if they seem strange was a risk we wanted to take. Funny that we should use those words “promised land” because in some ways it has felt more like being an desert-wandering Israelite.

are we there yet?

Ironically, Velocity- the  church we’ve gotten involved with has been studying the exodus of the Israelites from Egypt, their wandering in the desert and the scouting out of the promised land.  As our small group studied Numbers 13 recently  I was struck that though the Israelites they had seen the good things God had for them when they reached the promised land- the amazingly beautiful and fertile land, the giant clusters of grapes and lush pomegranates, (which must have looked really good after eating manna in the desert for 40 years) that there were only two people who thought they could actually enter it. Joshua and Caleb were the only leaders who believed that though they would have to fight for the land, it was worth it because God was with them. I don’t know if the other Israelites thought they’d waltz in, plop down some pink lawn flamingos and be sipping mai tai’s but when they realized that taking possession of the land and promises of God would actually be difficult and cost them something- their lives, their comfort, the work of cultivating the land they freaked out and spent many more years wandering in the desert.

Though we had called Cleveland “the promised land”, our fears about what this move would cost us have been real. Difficulty renting/selling our MI house, lack of relational networks and losing funding were all huge barriers that we weighed whether we should move. And all of those fears have been realized and all have been really difficult and scary.  There are days when the stress of the bills for paying for two mortgages and for the cost to get our MI house rent-ready amount to pity parties about the things I don’t have, anger about why things are more difficult than I thought they’d be, and depression that there doesn’t really seem like a clear end in sight.

why do so many of us think that this is what following Jesus will be like?

Somehow in the midst of this when I do spend time in scripture being reminded of who God says he is, what he is able to do and that he’s with me through all of these things. I remember that when I feel like I’m drowning in worry, the $600 bill of our furnace in MI breaking, or just missing my friends, Jesus extends his hand to me to lead, guide and reassure me that he is present. Out of the boat living feels crazy because it’s made us need to trust Jesus in new ways to provide for, to be present in our lives and to trust that he really has us here for the good things he promises to all his people.


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the double-bind- life as a working mom

4 02 2011

Confession- at various points in my life I have thought all of these things: kids are speed-bumps on the career path, being a mom seems lame, God is a jerk if he wants me to have kids and give up a job I love. Maybe you’re in the other camp entirely and have been waiting to have babies since you went through puberty. I have never stepped foot in that camp.  Now that I’m approaching having not one, but two children it’s made me think and pray a lot about how my life will change when spawn of Fick #2 arrives this summer.

It’s been a hesitant path to motherhood for me- Dave married me hoping that I’d want to have children someday. I can distincly remember being at a meeting to present about my work with InterVarsity to a committee who would decide if they wanted to give a grant to our work.  Since I lived in West Michigan at the time the committee was made up of all older, white Dutch men in suits.  The only women in sight were the ones who cooked and served our lunch of ham buns and jello, and the mom who straggled into the meeting toting her baby on her hip and toddler in tow to drop off a form her husband had forgotten at home.  When I saw the tender looks on the mens faces as the haggard mother walked into the room  I remember thinking to myself “I never want to be looked at like that.”

you know it's bad when even Heidi Klum looks stressed out taking her kid grocery shopping.

To me, their looks were conveyed pity, condescension and an attitude of “look at this poor mother just trying to manage a day with young children while we men do all the important work and make the big decisions.”  I realize now that there was a lot of projecting of my own fears going on there about how I was viewed as a woman and sadly, some misogyny as well.  Who knows what those men were thinking? Maybe they were wishing they could ditch the suits and play in the sandbox and eat some popsicles instead of being in a stuffy meeting?

When I had my son Reuben, Dave and I decided that he would stay home part time while I would continue to work full time.  In part this decision was because we make the same amount of money and have the freedom to make decision based on what we’re passionate about and feel called to rather than salary.  However, I know that another part of me was terrified as being seen like the mom in the meeting. I didn’t want to disrupt meetings, I wanted to run meetings. I couldn’t fathom what it would be like to be away from the action of seeing God work on campus with students and staff and to be influential in shaping how students encounter Jesus.

yes, yes, we can do it all. or so we're told.

After all, if Jesus gave me gifts of preaching and teaching why the heck wouldn’t I use them?  For me, continuing to work full time was both a faith-based decision of asking the Lord to give me strength to do the work he was clearly calling me to and and prideful personal decision that I could prove that I was able to serve as a leader even with a little baby.

Now that I’ve worked for 10 years with InterVarsity and serve in a job I love I’m starting to think more about the quality of life I want to have and not just about my career ambitions.  The difficult thing about being a working mom is it seems you are constantly trading one kind of guilt for another. This is what is referred to as “the double-bind” the constant pull of how to navigate career development and family obligations.  When Reuben was little, I was thrilled to get a brief break from mommy life while speaking to or training students I still guiltily thought to myself “there goes 1-week of the only time in his life he’ll be 4-months old” and felt like a bad mom.  While I was at home with him and was still in the nursing phase every few hours, I guiltily thought “I am never going to get any work done! Why the heck did was I promoted with a 4-month old baby? I’m letting down the people I work for!” Then there’s the guilt of being too tired to want to engage emotionally with your kid or your husband, though you forgo the nap to play trains with your son. And when you juggle that for a number of years, you begin to wonder “is it worth it?”

For the month of February, I’m going to be posting once a week on this topic. I’ve talked to many other working moms and stay at home moms who struggle with guilt, are worried that their choice to stay home will limit their career options, or are worried they’ll mess up their kids if they work. I’d love to hear the things you struggle with, what you wish were different, and helpful ways that you’ve learned to navigate the double-bind.

So here is my question in response to this post: what do you feel most guilty about as a mom?

For me, I feel awful when Reuben asks “will you come play with me?” when I’m trying to clean up the house or shoot off some emails for work.  Though I often do go and play trains with him, I know that there will be work left undone and also that it’s o.k. for him to play by himself occasionally. I know we spend quality time together every day and that I don’t need to make every second of his childhood a magical playtime. Maybe it’s just his cute voice & those big blue eyes that get me. (In my best Admiral Akbar voice) It’s a trap! Guilt! Guilt either way!

oh admiral akbar, if only you could help me steer the mothership.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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Categories : inner world, jesus, mom blogs

Merry Freegan Christmas!

27 11 2010

Do other parents feel guilty and sad that they too won’t have the same elated faces on their children’s faces when they present an XBox 360, complete Thomas the Tank engine set (with newest Misty Island Rescue attachments), or any other toy that said child would enjoy on Christmas morning? Have you noticed how even McDonald’s is equating personal fulfillment with food ordered and consumed from their menu this holiday season?

I recently received a coupon like this in the mail and thought "wow, that's so nice McD's sent me a holiday coupon!" and then I realized what I was thinking and that it wasn't a neighborly gesture on behalf of my local golden arches.

Though Dave and I are typically content with the lifestyle we’ve chosen of glamorous non-profit student ministry, are creative with our resources and try to live simply, there are times I just am sad or pissed off we don’t make more money.  This usually corresponds with what I feel like I should be doing to care for others than what is actually expected of me or desired around the Holiday season.  This Christmas we’re facing the tough reality of being addled with two mortgages because our renters moved out this past month, trying to sell our other car to still be a one car family and managing to buy Christmas presents this year.  Yesterday when I was carefully selecting some Thomas trains for Reuben for Christmas because of an amazing buy one get one sale (sometimes I do like black friday!) I was feeling like such a bad parent because I wanted to get him some of the play sets to go with the trains but it would have been irresponsible this month.

Now before you think I’m going to whip out my violin and tell you the sad tale of the boy who only had 15 trains to play with, this isn’t a pity post or some sort of crazy hippie rant about “the man”- homey don’t play that (at least publicly in my blog).  When I came back from shopping, I was checking facebook and noticed my friend Scott Bessenecker’s status update: “We’re calling it a “freeganecker Christmas” No new stuff for gifts. We’re attempting to break free of consumerism this year” Wow, I thought, I haven’t seen a message like that anywhere.  Granted Scott writes books like this one:

check out this book and a few of Scott's other gems at www.ivp.com!

“In The New Friars Scott Bessenecker profiles young Christians who have voluntarily removed themselves from the status quo in order to seek justice and mercy with the poorest of the world’s poor. These new friars are carrying on the work of the monastic tradition, the spirit of Francis and Clare of Assisi, St. Patrick and St. Brigid, the Jesuits and Nestorians and Moravians. The New Friars will show you that with God all things—even uncommon acts of courageous faith—are possible.” Check it out people- good stuff!

Scott’s status update was refreshing because it was a reminder of the hype that surrounds Christmas and how easily I buy (literally) into it.  i.e. see McDonald’s coupon example from above. It was a reminder of that though I often love stuff (I am a boot fiend when winter rolls around), stuff doesn’t love me back.  The boots get scuffed, the Thomas trains grow tiresome, the wrapping paper gets recycled or thrown away.  It’s funny that as a Jesus follower, the holiday meant to celebrate his birth is actually one of the most difficult for me to celebrate because it is more easy to be influenced by holiday commercials than Christmas carols which profess beautiful truth like:

“long lay the world, in sin and error pining, then he appeared and the world knew it’s worth, a thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices for yonder breaks a new and glorious dawn! Fall on your knees, oh hear the angels voices, oh night divine, the night when Christ was born!”

I’m thankful for Scott’s reminder that my worth isn’t found as a mom in the kinds of toys I buy for Reuben. It isn’t found in how cute I look in the lovely new boots my in-laws purchased for me of Christmas.  It isn’t found in the glorious gifts I’ve carefully chosen for people I love in my life.  It’s found in the thrill of hope that Jesus affords me in my life every single day, in his love and purpose for me that only grows more precious over the years, the kindness and acceptance he demonstrates thought there is much error and sin in my life. Man, I’m getting teared up as I type this post simply thinking about the different kind of gift Jesus is than the kind I usually pine for.

So this year, Dave and I are going to join Scott in his “Freeganecker” celebration by trying to live simply, kindly and responsibly by following some of his suggestions:

  • If our kids need something, we should get it (some are in great need of clothes). But let’s get it when they need it. The idea is to dial down the association between consumerism on steriods and Jesus’ birth. Yes, Jesus was an amazing gift and it’s nice to celebrate by giving someone a gift, but this thing has gotten waaaay out of control!
  • Freecycle is a place we can look for gifts for one another. Let’s rescue something a family member might need from the landfill (this may require some repair). (check www.freecycle.com for local listings near you!)
  • Of course home made gifts is alright.
  • Buy a goat or chicken in the name of a family member through one of the many charities that do that sort of thing.

    goats! check out the world vision gift catalogue for more great ideas!

  • Service gifts always welcome. (hellooooo backrubs!)
  • Psychologically prepare for a Christmas morning that will not be about trying out all the new stuff. This may be a challenge for the kids. We’ll need to satisfy ourselves with hanging out in our PJ’s, eating and playing games on Christmas day (the thrill of new stuff is pretty short lived anyway).
  • We watched “The Story of Stuff” together on Thanksgiving and chose to buy nothing on Friday.

Admittedly I wouldn’t even be thinking about doing this because of my own moral convictions this holiday season if it had not been for our lean pocketbooks. Yet I’m glad for even small reminders that I can choose to focus on celebrating and gift giving this year that doesn’t make me feel guilty or put us in debt.  I’d love to hear some of your ideas on how you’ve celebrated Christmas simply, tried to dial down consumerism and still managed to have a great time during the holidays.


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when cheating just feels right

5 11 2010

Last night I made a decision to cheat- on my sabbatical. Though I’ve been given a year for academic leave, rest and reflection to hopefully help me continue a long career with InterVarsity, I’m beginning to feel a bit antsy.  On Wednesday Dave asked me if I’d be willing to help him teach on Ephesians 5 at the weekly student gathering at Case Western. For those of you not familiar with Ephesians 5- it contains some of the most controversial and misused scripture in the New Testament- “wives submit to your husbands, husbands love your wives.” He thought it would be a good idea for both of us to teach on this subject to hopefully demonstrate how this can actually look healthy in a marriage and how the scripture has been misused.

At first I was hesitant. “I am on sabbtical after all- I should be resting.” Resting as of late has been really difficult for me. I find that I enjoy life much more when I’m moving at a faster pace, am stimulated by new ideas and have a chance to put those ideas into practice. I finally agreed to team teach with him, but then tried to bail out twice. I was also pretty afraid that I’d lost my speaker mojo somehow, that it would be terrible and would confirm that I should just stay home and twiddle my thumbs feeling bored instead of going back to work in January.

my husband Dave teaching at Case earlier this year- we have rarely done team teaching and it felt great to deliver a message together.

The great thing was I was reminded that when I’m obedient to use all of who Jesus has made me to be; a woman, wife, mother, evangelist- he shows up. Not only to bless me, but to bless others. Getting up in front of those students to help them understand scripture and “live as a community of love” as we challenged them to do, felt AWESOME! It felt a little like getting back on a bike- a really sweet BMX bike that I could do killer tricks with. Jesus reminded me that all I need to do is show up and be willing to let him speak to others through me- and he does amazing things.

flying high- on Jesus juice!

I’d like to write a whole other post on what we shared- our opening question was “what was your earliest memory of gender?”  ”how does the word submit make you feel?” But I’ll save that for another day….

After the meeting, I was milling around chatting with students when an Asian woman named Gina* approached me. After a bit of small talk about how it was her first time at an InterVarsity meeting she begin to share- “what you said tonight made a lot of sense, I could really connect with it. I’ve been feeling so lost in life and even though I wear a cross and know about Jesus, I really want to feel like I have a connection with him every day. Can you tell me how I can have that?” At this point, I think my jaw dropped as I sent up a quick prayer. “yeah, I’d love to talk about that” as I motioned for us to sit down on the dorm style couches in the meeting room. As Gina shared about some of her struggles and longing to connect with God, my heart was filled with thankfulness that Jesus was giving me the gift of being able to help guide someone into a relationship with him. Gina and I prayed for Jesus to be the leader of her life- to help her know how to live in the way of love and to be part of a community that would help her to do that. The coolest thing was that her R.A., Anna was there with her. After we prayed, she introduced me to her R.A. and shared about the decision she had made. “Oh that’s so cool”, said  Anna, you are one of the people I’ve been praying for to come to InterVarsity! Yeah, we can totally talk more about connecting with God daily.”

InterVarsity students- learning how to live as a community of love...and wear crazy wigs.

As Dave and I grabbed our laptop bags and headed out into the rainy night, I was elated. Not only did it feel so right to “cheat” on my sabbatical and do what I normally do for work, Jesus gave me an opportunity to do one of the things that brings me the most joy and purpose in life- helping others to know who he is and how he can lead their lives. It was a great reminder of what we had shared that night- “make the most of everyday” because each day is a gift for us to make a difference in the lives of those around us.

*name changed for privacy.


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Categories : inner world, jesus, spiritual conversations, Uncategorized

the church of my imagination

21 10 2010

Choirs of unicorns singing gospel hymns, humorous sermons by Stephen Colbert and joyful potlucks with BBQ ribs afterwards comprise the church of my imagingation. Well, not actually, but it’s fun to picture right? Unicorns, Colbert, ribs- sounds like a divine trifecta to me.

dude, just how many hallelujahs are there in the hallelujah chorus?

Dave and I have been looking for a church here in Cleveland and I’ve been reflecting on what we value in a church, how we go about evaluating those values, the dissonance that occurs between what I picture as an ideal church and what we experience in reality.  Recently I took a class with Rick Richardson (aka Slick Rick) at Wheaton Graduate School on various models of evangelism and church. I was easily inspired and going to places like Lawndale Community church where the church has helped to provide health services, a low cost fitness center, a dental clinic and arts cafe in Lawndale, a struggling community just outside of Chicago.

my friend Francie and I outside of Lawndale Community Church's "Firehouse Arts Center" where they have a hip hop church!

Especially exciting is that they look to the leadership of people who are in the community for the answers to the problems that they face rather than coming in with their own ideas of cleaning up trash from the streets or painting houses to make superficial changes. Churches like Lawndale are truly bringing the kingdom of God here on earth as it is in heaven.

The phrase “church shopping” has come into the vocabulary of evangelicals in recent years, I believe in large part because so many churches have structured their services around a consumer Christian experience- “do I like the worship? What kinds of programs does the church offer for me? Did I “get fed” from the sermon?” When did Christians become so lazy that they need someone to spoon-feed them spirituality instead of experiencing growth as a daily part of life? In the last year I’ve had a growing discontent with various models of church and have felt like moving to Cleveland offers a great fresh start for finding and investing in a community that we can be part of to live life and serve Jesus together.

If you’ve ever been to a wedding or any variety, it’s likely that you may have heard 1 Corinthians 13 read by someone’s cousin, friend or uncle- “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” The earlier part of this passage talks about how there can be many impressive things present in a church; generosity to the poor, speaking eloquently about God, faith that can move mountains- yet without love it amounts to nothing. Nothing.

This has become the main factor for me in determining whether I want to join a church community or not: does it seem like a place where the love of Jesus is present? Are there people there who through the love that Jesus are seeing to always trust, persevere, hope and rejoice together? Are they the type of people who will judge me when I inevitably hurt, offend or slight someone? Or will they forgive? Do people seem proud of themselves because of what they’ve accomplished? For how big the church is or how edgy they can be? I’ve realized I can listen to great sermons online, buy a worship cd for world-class praise music or even call up friends who live far away that I can pray with.

dear God, let church be more than a building!

The thing I can’t replace is people. And that’s what church is all about- the mess, glory and joy of being with people who are in the process of being transformed into the divine creatures that are agents or peace, love and hope because of Jesus. It’s hard, there are hurt feelings, horrible conflicts. Yet in my imagination I see a community that is overflowing with the love of Jesus- where they’re able to have ridiculous amounts of fun together, pray like God is really listening, cry with one another in the midst of suffering and serve the needs around them without needing a church program to tell them that’s a good thing. That even when the hard, horrible things happen, they’re able to look to Jesus as their source of forgiveness and hope to heal the wounds we inflict and that are inflicted upon us. I hope that the church in my imagination can become more and more of a reality here in my neighborhood and community as we become involved in the lives of people seeking to follow Jesus here in Cleveland.


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Categories : church, grad school, inner world, jesus, spirituality

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