Contentment

We have been having an issue with my oldest. The other day we went out to dinner to celebrate the end of school. Our usual celebration involves going to get ice cream but, because she had been ill and missed the last three days of school, we took her out to dinner instead. At the end of dinner, we ordered her a hot fudge sundae, which should have made her happy. The unfortunate thing is that I ordered it without the mini-M&M's that were supposed to come with it (due to her peanut allergy and possible cross-contamination). She knows this rule. But, instead of greeting her hot fudge sundae with pleasure and enjoying the decadent desert, she pitched a full-on fit and wouldn't eat it, all because it came without the M&Ms. As I enjoyed the sundae, I couldn't help but be frustrated with her reaction. I mean, she had a hot fudge sundae for heaven's sake! If we had just ordered a hot fudge sundae and NOT requested it without M&Ms, she would have been happy. But, because she knew it was SUPPOSED to have M&Ms and didn't, there was no pleasure in the sundae. It was lacking in something. It didn't matter that it was something that could have been very dangerous for her and that Mom was just trying to keep her safe. She knew she was missing something. And that's all she could think about.

As I ponder this incident, I am struck by how much I am like that. I am without a doubt enormously blessed in this life. Anyone from 3/4 of the world would look at all the material blessings, the two cars parked in our garage, our sturdy home, the generous medical care that we have, the bulging pantry, the numerous choices of clothing in our closets, and wonder that I would ever be discontent. And yet, I find at times I am. There are times I wish my house was bigger. My car was newer. That I had different, more stylish clothes. That I lived somewhere else that was sunnier and warmer in the winter. That I had a cat with less attitude. That I had a full-time maid.

When you live your life always thinking about what you DON'T have, you spoil the opportunity to enjoy what you DO have. And for most of us, that is so very, very much. There are circumstances that can steal our joy and that can cause us pain in the midst of our plenty. But for most of us, if we merely took stock of what we DO have and chose to focus on that and enjoy the blessings we've been given, life would be a lot more pleasurable. The true antidote to discontent is thankfulness. A thankful heart breeds a content heart. Because thankfulness recognizes the number of blessings, counts them, and chooses to focus on the fact that they are gifts. That they are undeserved.

My oldest is definitely a grumbler, and we are working on helping her understand that "fairness" is not something she truly wants. Because fairness would require us to give up a lot of the things that we enjoy in this life. In fairness, why should she have more than a child who doesn't have clean water, or sufficient food to eat, or a sanitary bed to sleep on? She doesn't want fairness. She just wants more. And how often is that me? Looking past the blessings, looking at what others have been blessed with and begrudging what I DON'T have? That leads to discontent, and a grumbling heart.

Today I will try hard to not only teach my child to be thankful, I will try to model it.

Things I Love Thursday: Thriving Family Magazine

There are two things I'm always trying to do with my kids: teach them about Jesus and keep them entertained. Unfortunately, it's not always in that order! That's why I'm so thrilled with a new magazine that I heard about from Amanda over at Impress Your Kids. Thriving Family magazine is published by Focus on the Family and is chock full of great articles, resources, and, most importantly, activities for entertaining your kids WHILE teaching them about Jesus!! My favorite section so far is Faith on the Go, which is a tear-out calendar with ideas for EACH day of the month! There are scripture verses to memorize, object lessons, and simple acts of service each week. I am truly in love and can't wait to get started.

The ideas are easy and since there's an idea for each day, if you need/want to skip one, you can do that and still have plenty of meaningful activities for the week. The timing couldn't be better. As I stare down two months of the "I'm bored" chorus, I will at least have a few ideas up my sleeve and ready to go. So often there are ideas that I read about in a blog and want to do, but when the time comes I've forgotten where I found it in the first place.

I also enjoy the articles on parenting and marriage. As a former parenting mag junkie, it is refreshing to have a trusted resource from a Christian perspective. It seems to be an all-around good magazine for all the roles that I play. I'll keep you posted when I've had a chance to implement the ideas. If we stay on track through the end of July, the girls and I should have memorized at least 5 verses. I can't think of a better way to spend time with my kids. You can get your copy here.

To My Father...

Dad,

I could have sent you a card with some nice Father's Day greeting on it, and that would have been enough. But I realize that there is so much that I wanted to share with you, and a card just wasn't going to cut it. In many ways I feel that this past year has been one in which your little girl has done a lot of growing. And in this year, I have come to appreciate even more the man and father that you are.

As I raise two spirited girls, I now understand what an incredible accomplishment it was for you and Mom to raise three girls who all love the Lord and are raising our children to, as well.It is a testament to your own walk with the Lord and your faithfulness to Him. And it is no small feat. This world offers so many temptations; so many opportunties for discouragement and disullusionment; for self-seeking over Christ-seeking. And yet, in spite of this, you have remained committed to Christ and have allowed Him to be Lord of your life. You have not just spoken eloquently from the pulpit about faith and faithfulness, you have lived it. And because of that, I have had a wonderful earthly example to guide me in the difficult times.

There are times when I see the opposite example amongst men and I could have become angry and bitter. But, because I have seen you live a life of integrity and humility, I know that I cannot easily turn my back. Because only a life transformed by Christ can withstand the pressures and difficulties that come, especially as a pastor. You have been authentic and, although very human, you have also been a man of humility. And that reminds me again and again that men will fail. We all do. But the only alternative is to bend our knees and heads to a Savior who loves, who forgives, who lifts us up and leads us onwards. We do not lift our eyes to men, we lift them further. And that is what you have done: you have always pointed us to Christ. When we have failed. When you have failed. It has always come back to the love and forgiveness and Grace of Christ. He alone is worthy.

And I can't thank you enough. For being a man whose heart fully belongs to Christ, who has been an extraordinary father, and grandfather. You have given your family the greatest gift anyone ever could: you have lead us to faith in Christ. And for that I am forever grateful. I love you, Dad, and I am so thankful that you are my Daddy.

Love you always,
Kathi

Finding the Ugly

One of the reasons I hate to clean is for fear of what might be lurking behind couches, under beds, and inside toy bins. I pulled the couch out yesterday to vacuum away the dust bunnies and this is what I found: A collection of probably 20-30 tissues. I just pray they weren't used ones. This is obviously what my children do to amuse themselves, but it makes my chore of cleaning the house that much more difficult. And it is a horrific realization that, no matter how clean my house might appear, I would cringe at anyone inspecting too closely. 'Cause they might find worse things hidden away behind the dressers and bookshelves. It's not that I don't want a clean house, it's that often I don't have the time or want to put in the effort to do the work that's required for a thorough cleaning. I just clean the visible parts, the parts that everyone will see.

Often we attempt to live that way, don't we? We often hide behind our goody-goody facade. We don't like to talk about sin (unless it's someone else's in which case let the good times roll!). We share the troubles and the blessin's of life but we often sidestep the particulars of our own battles with sin. We go to church and find people who are like us, with whom we can go for coffee or enjoy a good meal, we praise each other's kids, we thank God for the good times, pray for deliverance from the bad, and live life just at the surface. We walk into worship harried and distracted, looking for a feel-good, pick-me-up message or just to suffer through the ritual, we shake hands and hug and answer the hollow "How are you?" with an equally hollow "Doing fine". We turn off our brains, unplug for an hour and leave feeling exactly the same as when we came. And for many that is what being a Christian is. But there isn't an ounce of Christ in that.

Jesus was all about the ugly. He spent time with the sinners. He ate dinner with tax collectors. He spent time with women of ill repute. He healed the sick and the dying. And he loved them. And he served them. But he didn't leave them like that. The difference was that those who knew their great and desperate need always left changed: healed from the inside out. Transformed. The only ones that Jesus left the way he found them were the religious elite who lived life on the surface. They believed they were good enough to earn their way to God. They had all the outward appearance of holiness but were total rot on the inside. And they didn't change.

There is enormous power in acknowledging the ugly. When we are real, when we admit our great and desperate need, we come before Jesus ready and willing to be changed. Desiring Him. Not our own goodness, but His. And in our realness, we light the path for others, we point them to a Saviour who loves and desires to transform them. In order to allow Jesus to be Lord of our life and to truly change us, we have to be willing to move the furniture so to speak. He's not interested in just dusting the visible parts. He wants to do a thorough deep clean, the kind that really requires effort and vulnerability and the willingness to address the ugly. If we are going to live a life that matters, that draws others to Christ, that is authentic and real, then we have to be real. And we have to love in a way that gets our hands dirty.

I'm still afraid to move the furniture in my house and I probably won't let you linger too long in certain places, but come sit down, pour yourself some coffee and we'll chat about the other uglies in my life.

God of Justice

There are moments in life when I am outraged at the evil that exists in our world. I am angry when evil is allowed to triumph over good, when people are hurt and mistreated. I want justice. And I want to take justice into my own hands. And it is so hard to sit back and wait upon God.

We have just finished watching the Chronicles of Narnia trilogy as a family, and I must admit that I am quite taken with the story. I love the classic good versus evil plot, the all too human heroes who struggle with their own weaknesses, and where, despite all the odds, good always triumphs. I have to control my desire to yell at Peter when he hesitates, under the spell of the White Witch, and I cheer when Edmond finally destroys her hold over his brother. One of the reasons this story is so compelling is because, as believers, we have an innate desire for justice. We want to see evil defeated and good win.

One of the scenes that I can most relate to is in the second movie, Prince Caspian, when Peter decides that they have waited long enough for Aslan, the one who they KNOW can defeat the evil empire they are fighting. They have waited and waited and there is no sign of Aslan. And now they believe that it is up to them to fight the battle alone. So, under Peter's leadership, they forge ahead without the mighty lion. And suffer a terrible defeat. Many of their friends are slaughtered. When Aslan does finally arrive, the battle is handily won and the enemy is thwarted. If only they had waited.

How hard it is to wait! And yet, that is exactly what God has instructed me to do. There are things in life which are beyond my control. And I must trust HIM. He is a God of justice, and justice is His.

 ⁶ And the heavens proclaim his righteousness, for he is a God of justice. Psalm 50:6

And while my inability to affect change often frustrates me, I know that He desires justice even more than I do, and that brings me comfort. Just as the children in Narnia know that Aslan can bring them victory, I already know how this story ends. When Christ returns, evil will finally be defeated, all the wrongs will be put right, and those who have suffered for His name's sake will be rewarded. And that's the best ending. EVER.

Sticks and Stones...

may break my bones, but words can never hurt me. We all know that little ditty from childhood, but in reality, it is absolutely false. Anyone who has ever spent time around kids on a playground know that this isn't true. Words are powerful. And they can hurt. Deeply. As soon as a toddler learns to speak, they instinctively lock onto the most powerful word in their limited vocabulary, "No!" To these little ones learning to assert independence, this word becomes one of the few weapons available to them. And as their vocabulary grows, so does their dependence upon words to control, even to wound.

Although as we grow, we learn how to better control our words, we also become much more precise in brandishing them as weapons. Instead of lashing out haphazardly at anyone and everyone, we often aim with exact precision directly at the heart of our victim. But the harder truth is that often our words hurt not because we intentionally direct them, but because we have spoken carelessly, without thought. I find weighing my words carefully to be a constant struggle. There are many reasons why, often just because I am tired or in a hurry or just babbling mindlessly. By all accounts, I am a fairly well-spoken person, and yet I often find myself regretting words spoken hastily or carelessly. I often don't even realize that I have offended until the person with whom I am speaking responds defensively, or shuts down emotionally. I have hurt. I have wounded.

It is not surprising that my mouth often gets me into trouble. In the book of James, we are warned about the destructive power of the tongue:

 ² We all stumble in many ways. Anyone who is never at fault in what they say is perfect, able to keep their whole body in check.

³ When we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we can turn the whole animal. ⁴ Or take ships as an example. Although they are so large and are driven by strong winds, they are steered by a very small rudder wherever the pilot wants to go. ⁵ Likewise, the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. ⁶ The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole body, sets the whole course of one’s life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell.

⁷ All kinds of animals, birds, reptiles and sea creatures are being tamed and have been tamed by mankind, ⁸ but no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison.

The real issue as laid out in James is one of self-control, which is a Fruit of the Spirit. So often I am quick to speak, when instead I should be slow to speak. I should never wield words carelessly, even in intimate conversation with close friends. Many times I just want to speak and be heard, to be understood, to share my thoughts when I should, rather, listen. And think. And process. And pray. Before I open my mouth. I suppose conversations would be a little more awkward, but it would be much wiser.

The flip side of this, however, is that we each also have a responsibility to not take offense. In 1 Corinthians 13, Paul's eloquent depiction of love states that love "is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs." Although I most definitely need to reign in my tongue (and often my brain), it is also true that each of us should be less quick to take offense. Grace is an amazing thing. When we show grace to each other, then we are both freed up from the fear of hurting, of being imperfect. The power of words goes both ways. We are to use them wisely and sparingly, but we are also not supposed to give them more power than they deserve. So yes, in some ways, that little ditty has some truth to it. "Words will never hurt me" if I don't give them that power. If I choose a life of love and grace and forgiveness. Some words will hurt no matter what, but choosing to love and forgive is the quickest way to healing.



Fundamentals

There are days as a parent that you feel really, really good. You know that, although there may have been a few stray balls, most of them were solidly hit into the outfield and you safely made it onto base. You might have even been lucky enough to hit one out of the park and, not only have made a wise parenting choice, but also have been quite popular with the kids. At the same time. Okay, so that almost never happens to me, but a girl can dream.

Lately, though, I feel like I'm in a huge parenting slump. I can't seem to make contact with the ball, I'm making errors left and right and even the die hard fans are starting to boo every time I come up to bat (yes, I have a cheering section in my head. Work with me.). It's so hard to break out of the parenting slump. 'Cause once your there, you constantly second guess every parenting decision you make. And every effort seems twice as hard and doomed to failure. Which means it usually is. And the cycle just seems to continue and spiral out of control.

Life has thrown our family a number of curve balls this spring which have really left me feeling weary and defeated. And it's easy to stay right here in this place feeling sorry for myself and revelling in the big giant pity party. But I can't. Because this isn't just a game, this is life, and it's serious business. And my kids need me to work my way out of the slump. And there's only one way that I know how to do that. Just like baseball players when they're in a slump, you have to go back to basics. Focus on the fundamentals. I have to remember that if I'm not taking care of myself, spiritually and physically, then I won't be able to take care of them. So I have to make those two things a priority. If I'm not learning from THE master parent, the source of all wisdom and love, then I'm not going to have the wisdom and love that I need. And if I'm tired, physically and emotionally drained, then I won't be able to pour energy into them.

I also have to have the long-term perspective that parenting is more a marathon than a sprint. I didn't get into this slump overnight and I won't get out of it overnight. It will take hard work. Consistent work. And it will have to be something that takes priority in my life -- feeding my soul and body -- so that I can get back into the game. These are critical years with my oldest, especially. I see that our relationship is struggling, too, and that I need to go back the fundamentals with her: unconditional love, firm boundaries, and time spent in abundant hugs and encouragement. There's a reason fundamentals are so important. They're what allows any player to be great. And I'm not willing to settle for mediocre when it comes to my kids. I've got a lot to learn and a lot of growing to do, but I know the hard work will be worth it. Because my kids are worth it.