"He did not spend his life for the people because he was a parson, but he was a parson because the church of England gave him facilities for spending his life for the people." - George MacDonald
"What do you want to be when you grow up?"
This is the question every kid is asked numerous times throughout their childhood. The question has a little bit more of an edge when asked of a senior about to graduate with a degree in "liberal arts" or of a 26-year-old using his master's degree to work at Starbucks.
My husband and I have asked ourselves this question over and over as we have encountered the various forks in the road that came with marriage, having children, job changes, church changes, etc.
What do we want to be when we grow up?
When I decided to attend seminary, I felt completely confident that I was on the right path. I wanted to be a "marrying, burying" pastor. I wanted to oversee a church that would welcome people in for both the major milestones in their lives as well as the day in and day out stuff of living. I wanted to pick a place and live there for the next forty years until I retired. And then, presumably, I would retire there. I wanted to spend my life for people.
As Anne Lamott says, "If you want to make God laugh, tell her your plans."
I think I thought that spending my life for people would somehow be whimsical, evoking tears at times, laughter at others. I thought it would have some kind of soundtrack in the background--something like Lord of the Rings, a combination of dramatic runs and peaceful melodies.
I think the composer of my soundtrack is temporarily on hiatus.
What I am hearing instead is the gentle breeze of beautiful red, orange, and yellow trees on a fall day. The peaceful stillness of a sleeping baby. The echoes of laughter and music from the evenings spent listening to Southern Gospel and dancing with the baby.
It's possible that when I wanted to spend my life for others, I really wanted to spend it for me. I wanted it to look and feel a certain way. I wanted to decide what I would "be" instead of just allowing God to decide who I am becoming.
I pray this day for grace to spend my life for the people standing in front of me and for grace when I fail in those efforts. I pray for attention to the opportunities I have and the fulfillment that comes with seizing those opportunities--whether it is accomplishing a task while the baby is sleeping or being okay with accomplishing nothing. I pray that I would hear the notes of the soundtrack around me and recognize that the future day of being "grown up" is here and now, and this is, in fact, who I am.
"A brown bird sang on a blossomy tree,
Sang in the moonshine, merrily,
Three little songs, one, two, and three,
A song for his wife, for himself, and me.
He sang for his wife, sang low, sang high,
Filling the moonlight that filled the sky,
'Thee, thee, I love thee, heart alive!
Thee, thee, thee, and thy round eggs five!'
He sang to himself, 'What shall I do
With this life that thrills me through and through?
Glad is so glad that it turns to ache!
Out with it, song, or my heart will break!'
He sang to me, 'Man, do not fear
Though the moon goes down, and the dark is near;
Listen my song, and rest thine eyes;
Let the moon go down that the sun may rise!'
I folded me up in the heart of his tune,
And fell asleep in the sinking moon;
I woke with the day's first golden gleam,
And lo, I had dreamed a precious dream!"
- George MacDonald
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Monday, October 21, 2013
A Modest Goal
"You can make him do nothing at all for long periods. You can keep him up late at night, not roistering, but staring at a dead fire in a cold room. All the healthy and outgoing activities which we want him to avoid can be inhibited and nothing given in return, so that at last he may say...'I now see that I spent most my life doing in neither what I ought nor what I liked.'" - C.S. Lewis, Screwtape Letters
Last summer, Mike and I decided to listen to a dramatized version of C.S. Lewis's Screwtape Letters. When I heard the last line of the above quote, it stopped me in my tracks. How often do I find myself doing "neither what I ought nor what I liked"?
As a stay at home mom, I have a lot of unstructured time on my hands. A great deal of it, of course, is spent in caring for the baby, one way or another. But what about the rest of it?
Mike and I recently visited New Harmony, Indiana. The town was built by the Harmonizers. They were a sort of cult who believed in separatism and the imminent return of Jesus. In the first year of settling the town, they cleared 2,000 acres and built 160 homes. That's a lot of hard work! Especially if they thought Jesus was going to return any day...
I imagine that the Harmonizers must have worked hard, harder than I can imagine, from morning to evening every day. My life does not require that kind of hard work. And to be honest, I'm not sure I could hack it if it did.
But what am I doing instead? If I don't have so many "oughts" as settlers clearing land to survive in the 1800s, I might as well pursue some "likes."
So, that's my goal. It may not be a very lofty goal, but I'm trying to use my time doing what I like if not what I ought.
Last summer, Mike and I decided to listen to a dramatized version of C.S. Lewis's Screwtape Letters. When I heard the last line of the above quote, it stopped me in my tracks. How often do I find myself doing "neither what I ought nor what I liked"?
As a stay at home mom, I have a lot of unstructured time on my hands. A great deal of it, of course, is spent in caring for the baby, one way or another. But what about the rest of it?
Mike and I recently visited New Harmony, Indiana. The town was built by the Harmonizers. They were a sort of cult who believed in separatism and the imminent return of Jesus. In the first year of settling the town, they cleared 2,000 acres and built 160 homes. That's a lot of hard work! Especially if they thought Jesus was going to return any day...
I imagine that the Harmonizers must have worked hard, harder than I can imagine, from morning to evening every day. My life does not require that kind of hard work. And to be honest, I'm not sure I could hack it if it did.
But what am I doing instead? If I don't have so many "oughts" as settlers clearing land to survive in the 1800s, I might as well pursue some "likes."
So, that's my goal. It may not be a very lofty goal, but I'm trying to use my time doing what I like if not what I ought.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Going Green
So I joined Twitter.
I don't really like new technology. I don't like investing time in learning something that is only going to ultimately take more time than I want to give anyway.
But Twitter surprised me. Did you know that the Internet is full of interesting, useful, well-written articles about everything? I've read about what kinds of food professional cyclists eat, how people are responding to the government shutdown, a theological understanding of power, what it feels like to always be the worst athlete at the gym, mowing crews in Detroit, a guy who is 5'5" and can dunk, and so forth.
In the past week, I have read an incredible number of words. Every day, I think the next day things might slow down a little...because how much high quality content can really be added to the internet everyday?
The answer is: A LOT. Every day, I have new tweets in my feed, new links to articles and videos that I find myself compelled to follow.
I have written previously about my thoughts on sustainable eating (here). But until I joined Twitter, I was unaware of the massive consumption of information happening in our world. I would like to suggest some ideas for "going green" on the Internet:
1. Reduce. At a recent trip to the Kansas City Museum of Art, I wandered through the contemporary art exhibits and was surprised to see a television. The accompanying sign informed me that in the early days of television, there were only three channels. Something like 55% of households owned a television, and they all watched the same three channels. Shows like Gilligan's Island and The Ed Sullivan Show were a shared experience. Now, news and entertainment are so specialized, no two people have the same experience. There are of course many advantages in this (respecting the variety of values held by people, giving voice to marginalized sources, presenting multiple perspectives on an issue), but I think we've gone overboard. How about we divide things up? Maybe we can all get our news from the BBC on Monday, CNN on Tuesday, MSNBC on Wednesday, Fox on Thursday, and The New Yorker on Friday. Saturdays will be devoted to recreation--I like the Outsider magazine. And Christianity Today can have Sundays.
2. Reuse. Instead of constantly updating content, how about reposting the highest quality articles, stories, poems, and even books from the past from time to time? It is sad for me to see so many good articles that are here today and gone tomorrow. A really good article might last a few days as it gets shared and re-shared on Facebook. But we seldom give it enough time to change our lives.
3. Conserve. Read an article and then think about it. Talk to someone else about it. Retweet it. Act on it. Don't just read it and then toss it aside like litter. Get some mileage out of it. Recently our dishwasher broke, and the dishwasher repairman who pronounced it dead told us that the average life of a dishwasher is between 18 months and 3 years. I don't know the average life of online content, but I imagine that it is at most a matter of weeks. Try to stretch out the life of the really good articles and ideas, rather than tossing them aside.
This post is meant to be a little sarcastic. My husband once had a co-worker who printed out every single email she received and filed it. Thank goodness for electronic searches! I hate filing!
Seriously, though, I am overwhelmed and a little saddened by how many good things are happening in our world that come across my Twitter feed so fast I can hardly give them more than a few seconds thought.
So, here is a poem I read this morning that is worth slowing down for.
"The Peace of Wild Things" by Wendell Berry
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
Just give it a minute...
I don't really like new technology. I don't like investing time in learning something that is only going to ultimately take more time than I want to give anyway.But Twitter surprised me. Did you know that the Internet is full of interesting, useful, well-written articles about everything? I've read about what kinds of food professional cyclists eat, how people are responding to the government shutdown, a theological understanding of power, what it feels like to always be the worst athlete at the gym, mowing crews in Detroit, a guy who is 5'5" and can dunk, and so forth.
In the past week, I have read an incredible number of words. Every day, I think the next day things might slow down a little...because how much high quality content can really be added to the internet everyday?
The answer is: A LOT. Every day, I have new tweets in my feed, new links to articles and videos that I find myself compelled to follow.
I have written previously about my thoughts on sustainable eating (here). But until I joined Twitter, I was unaware of the massive consumption of information happening in our world. I would like to suggest some ideas for "going green" on the Internet:
1. Reduce. At a recent trip to the Kansas City Museum of Art, I wandered through the contemporary art exhibits and was surprised to see a television. The accompanying sign informed me that in the early days of television, there were only three channels. Something like 55% of households owned a television, and they all watched the same three channels. Shows like Gilligan's Island and The Ed Sullivan Show were a shared experience. Now, news and entertainment are so specialized, no two people have the same experience. There are of course many advantages in this (respecting the variety of values held by people, giving voice to marginalized sources, presenting multiple perspectives on an issue), but I think we've gone overboard. How about we divide things up? Maybe we can all get our news from the BBC on Monday, CNN on Tuesday, MSNBC on Wednesday, Fox on Thursday, and The New Yorker on Friday. Saturdays will be devoted to recreation--I like the Outsider magazine. And Christianity Today can have Sundays.2. Reuse. Instead of constantly updating content, how about reposting the highest quality articles, stories, poems, and even books from the past from time to time? It is sad for me to see so many good articles that are here today and gone tomorrow. A really good article might last a few days as it gets shared and re-shared on Facebook. But we seldom give it enough time to change our lives.
3. Conserve. Read an article and then think about it. Talk to someone else about it. Retweet it. Act on it. Don't just read it and then toss it aside like litter. Get some mileage out of it. Recently our dishwasher broke, and the dishwasher repairman who pronounced it dead told us that the average life of a dishwasher is between 18 months and 3 years. I don't know the average life of online content, but I imagine that it is at most a matter of weeks. Try to stretch out the life of the really good articles and ideas, rather than tossing them aside.
This post is meant to be a little sarcastic. My husband once had a co-worker who printed out every single email she received and filed it. Thank goodness for electronic searches! I hate filing!
Seriously, though, I am overwhelmed and a little saddened by how many good things are happening in our world that come across my Twitter feed so fast I can hardly give them more than a few seconds thought.
So, here is a poem I read this morning that is worth slowing down for.
"The Peace of Wild Things" by Wendell Berry
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
Just give it a minute...
Thursday, October 03, 2013
Telling the Truth
"Good writing is about telling the truth." - Anne Lamott
Well, here goes.
Life is hard. There. That is the truth. Any questions?
I was talking to my mom this morning about a friend of hers who is having a really tough time at church. Her friend said that she was ready to quit the church, to just give up and move on. My mom suggested to her that there may be some good reasons not to quit, and I think her friend decided to give it another go, but that's not always the way that conversation plays out.
We compared notes and discovered that we both know people who expect church people to behave better than non-church people. Unfortunately, just like anyone else, church people can be awkward or inconsiderate. Or even just plain mean.
My pastor is fond of saying that too many people expect the Christian life to be like a cruise. They want to just sit back and enjoy the ride. Those people are offended when God has the audacity to interrupt their cruise with things like calls to difficult assignments or suggestions about being kind to one's enemies.
They signed on to escape life, not to be thrown in headfirst.
In a recent sermon, one of my favorite pastors shared this story, written by Barbara Brown Taylor:
“Several summers ago I spent three days on a barrier island where loggerhead turtles were laying their eggs. One night while the tide was out, I watched a huge female heave herself up on the beach and dig her nest and empty her eggs into it. Afraid of disturbing her, I left before she was finished. The next morning I returned to see if I could find the spot where her eggs lay hidden in the sand. What I found were her tracks leading in the wrong direction. Instead of heading back out to sea, she had wandered into the dunes, which were already as hot as asphalt in the morning sun.
A little ways inland I found her: Exhausted, all but baked, her head and flippers caked with dried sand. After pouring water on her and covering her with sea oats, I fetched a park ranger who returned with a jeep to rescue her. He flipped her on her back, strapped tire chains around her front legs, and hooked the chains to a trailer hitch on his jeep. Then I watched horrified as he took off, yanking her body forward so that her mouth filled with sand and her neck bent so far back I thought it would break.
The ranger hauled her over the dunes and down onto the beach. At the ocean’s edge, he unhooked her and turned her right side up. She lay motionless in the surf as the water lapped at her body, washing the sand from her eyes and making her skin shine again. A wave broke over her; she lifted her head slightly, moving her back legs. Other waves brought her further back to life until one of them made her light enough to find a foothold and push off, back into the ocean. Watching her swim slowly away and remembering her nightmare ride through the dunes, I reflected that it is sometimes hard to tell whether you are being killed or saved by the hands that turn your life upside down.” (Barbara Brown Taylor in The Other Side Magazine March & April 2000)
Ultimately, the real life that we are called to as Christians might be more fulfilling than a cruise and it might even save us in the end. But in the thick of things, sometimes it's hard to tell whether we're being saved or killed.
And that's the truth.
Well, here goes.
Life is hard. There. That is the truth. Any questions?
I was talking to my mom this morning about a friend of hers who is having a really tough time at church. Her friend said that she was ready to quit the church, to just give up and move on. My mom suggested to her that there may be some good reasons not to quit, and I think her friend decided to give it another go, but that's not always the way that conversation plays out.
We compared notes and discovered that we both know people who expect church people to behave better than non-church people. Unfortunately, just like anyone else, church people can be awkward or inconsiderate. Or even just plain mean.
My pastor is fond of saying that too many people expect the Christian life to be like a cruise. They want to just sit back and enjoy the ride. Those people are offended when God has the audacity to interrupt their cruise with things like calls to difficult assignments or suggestions about being kind to one's enemies.
They signed on to escape life, not to be thrown in headfirst.
In a recent sermon, one of my favorite pastors shared this story, written by Barbara Brown Taylor:
“Several summers ago I spent three days on a barrier island where loggerhead turtles were laying their eggs. One night while the tide was out, I watched a huge female heave herself up on the beach and dig her nest and empty her eggs into it. Afraid of disturbing her, I left before she was finished. The next morning I returned to see if I could find the spot where her eggs lay hidden in the sand. What I found were her tracks leading in the wrong direction. Instead of heading back out to sea, she had wandered into the dunes, which were already as hot as asphalt in the morning sun.
A little ways inland I found her: Exhausted, all but baked, her head and flippers caked with dried sand. After pouring water on her and covering her with sea oats, I fetched a park ranger who returned with a jeep to rescue her. He flipped her on her back, strapped tire chains around her front legs, and hooked the chains to a trailer hitch on his jeep. Then I watched horrified as he took off, yanking her body forward so that her mouth filled with sand and her neck bent so far back I thought it would break.
The ranger hauled her over the dunes and down onto the beach. At the ocean’s edge, he unhooked her and turned her right side up. She lay motionless in the surf as the water lapped at her body, washing the sand from her eyes and making her skin shine again. A wave broke over her; she lifted her head slightly, moving her back legs. Other waves brought her further back to life until one of them made her light enough to find a foothold and push off, back into the ocean. Watching her swim slowly away and remembering her nightmare ride through the dunes, I reflected that it is sometimes hard to tell whether you are being killed or saved by the hands that turn your life upside down.” (Barbara Brown Taylor in The Other Side Magazine March & April 2000)
Ultimately, the real life that we are called to as Christians might be more fulfilling than a cruise and it might even save us in the end. But in the thick of things, sometimes it's hard to tell whether we're being saved or killed.
And that's the truth.
Tuesday, October 01, 2013
Scale Musings
"The times, they are a-changin'." - Bob Dylan
I weighed myself this morning. My weight has not deviated more than one pound in either direction since about two weeks since Amos was born. I've heard that breastfeeding consumes an additional 500 calories each day and that many women have trouble maintaining a healthy weight while breastfeeding. I have not struggled with that particular difficulty. I have exercised, attempted to eat healthy, joined a gym, run with my husband, and tried to be generally more active. I have also eaten terribly at other times and spent whole weekends watching tv. None of these activities has generated more than a one pound weight loss or gain. I am blown away by my body's stubbornness in clinging to this certain number on the scale.
As I look out my window, I see the leaves beginning to change colors. Amos is changing everyday too, constantly learning to do new things. My marriage is always changing as we navigate the ups and downs of daily life. My experience of being a stay-at-home-mom is changing as I meet other moms and take on new projects.
Beyond that, there are rumors of big changes in the works for the seminary, including a possible relocation and partnership with another school. If the school moves forward with this possibility, my life will change even more dramatically. We will have to choose between following the seminary and starting over in a new city or staying here but starting over with a new job, house, and community.
While it is frustrating to see the exact same number on the scale every single morning, I am oddly reassured by my body's unwillingness to relinquish its reserves. A fellow breastfeeding mom told me that women's bodies are hesitant to let go of stores as long as we are responsible for nourishing another person. I like the idea that nature is cautious and deliberate in the midst of change. I also like the idea that my body seems to have an inner compass that is navigating uncharted territory reliably and wisely.
As the leaders responsible for making decisions for the seminary contemplate its future, I pray that they will likewise be cautious and deliberate, not too eager to relinquish things that some may consider excess baggage on the journey. I pray that they will trust in things unseen and even previously untapped that will provide wisdom and insight for possibilities never before considered.
I also give thanks for the things that stay the same in the midst of change. God's mercies may be new every morning, but their presence is as reliable as the coming of the morning. I am thankful for my husband's steadfast love for me. I am thankful for the many supportive communities we have been so fortunate to be part of and that continue to support us. I am thankful for the familiar sight of leaves changing and the fresh, crisp fall air, which will lead into the cold days of winter and then into the new life of spring.
I will also be happy if eventually my weight moves out of the "unchanging" category, but in the meantime, I am grateful for the blessing of good health and resilience.
I weighed myself this morning. My weight has not deviated more than one pound in either direction since about two weeks since Amos was born. I've heard that breastfeeding consumes an additional 500 calories each day and that many women have trouble maintaining a healthy weight while breastfeeding. I have not struggled with that particular difficulty. I have exercised, attempted to eat healthy, joined a gym, run with my husband, and tried to be generally more active. I have also eaten terribly at other times and spent whole weekends watching tv. None of these activities has generated more than a one pound weight loss or gain. I am blown away by my body's stubbornness in clinging to this certain number on the scale.
 | |
| Changing leaves with beautiful fall skies |
Beyond that, there are rumors of big changes in the works for the seminary, including a possible relocation and partnership with another school. If the school moves forward with this possibility, my life will change even more dramatically. We will have to choose between following the seminary and starting over in a new city or staying here but starting over with a new job, house, and community.
While it is frustrating to see the exact same number on the scale every single morning, I am oddly reassured by my body's unwillingness to relinquish its reserves. A fellow breastfeeding mom told me that women's bodies are hesitant to let go of stores as long as we are responsible for nourishing another person. I like the idea that nature is cautious and deliberate in the midst of change. I also like the idea that my body seems to have an inner compass that is navigating uncharted territory reliably and wisely.
As the leaders responsible for making decisions for the seminary contemplate its future, I pray that they will likewise be cautious and deliberate, not too eager to relinquish things that some may consider excess baggage on the journey. I pray that they will trust in things unseen and even previously untapped that will provide wisdom and insight for possibilities never before considered.
I also give thanks for the things that stay the same in the midst of change. God's mercies may be new every morning, but their presence is as reliable as the coming of the morning. I am thankful for my husband's steadfast love for me. I am thankful for the many supportive communities we have been so fortunate to be part of and that continue to support us. I am thankful for the familiar sight of leaves changing and the fresh, crisp fall air, which will lead into the cold days of winter and then into the new life of spring.
I will also be happy if eventually my weight moves out of the "unchanging" category, but in the meantime, I am grateful for the blessing of good health and resilience.
 |
| I can't believe Amos was this little just a few months ago! |
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