Such A Shame

I'd like to start blogging more often.  Let's see if anything comes of that statement.

Well, the U.S. election season is here.  I know this because Facebook has become flooded with a lot of ultimatums and extreme blanket statements.  There was a time when I engaged in differing opinions on the web (of which there are many), but these days I find myself with no desire to.  The jury's out on whether this is due to a sense of self-preservation, a lack of hope of change or an increase in wisdom (I'm hoping it's the latter).  There is one confession that I'd like to make, though, with somber remorse:

I voted for Barack Obama.

I did.  I was living on WIC vouchers in an affordable housing complex in Arlington, Texas, at the time.  My children received their immunizations through Medicaid.  I donated 6 months of breast milk samples to research for $200.  And I still believed that we, as individuals, were responsible for the mess that our nation was in and that we, as collective individuals, had the potential to make it a better place.  "Yes!  We Can!"  McCain seemed like the typical politician who knew exactly who to blame for all the world's woes and promised a bowl full of cherries if he was elected.  But Obama seemed to acknowledge the immense task of rebuilding the morale of a disillusioned nation, warning that change would be hard and not be instantaneous, but that yes, we can.  And he had spent a lot of time working to better the lives of people like me, who were under the thumb of financial strain with few options.  He seemed promising.

Listening to Michelle Obama's recent speech at the Democratic Convention (I hate conventions, don't you?  Frenzied mobs, reminding us why Rome burned), the reason I had voted for Obama came flooding back to me: I like him.  I like the way he's lived his life.  Raised with the help of his grandparents - whom he honoured, early morning study sessions before school, turning down well paid positions to work with poorer neighbourhoods, husband to one woman, father to only her children, a man with romantic dreams of a hard working, blue collar nation... 

It's such a shame, too, because the Obama's are SUCH a nice family.  I could see myself laughing, enjoying a freezie with them on the sidewalk on a hot day.  My sentiments remind me of Dave who, after relocating to Texas, was so pleased to find anyone to converse with.  "I met our neighbour today," he'd say.  "SUCH a nice guy."  Insert anyone in that sentence - bank rep, store owner, customer, co-worker, church-goer.  Dave was unaware that he was so starved for friendship, any interaction he had the privilege of experiencing overwhelmed him with a gratefulness for the human spirit, the image of God, that each one of us inherently bears.

But as I sat listening to Michelle's speech, that familiar sadness crept into my chest.  That realization and heaviness that accompanies an imminent parting of ways.  Although they mean well, although they're the lovely family that I'm sure they are, I cannot stand with them in their declarations and their vision for the nation.  They are wrong.  No amount of my liking them (and I do like them) will change this very clear and unavoidable truth.

"Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap." Galatians 6:7

Women licensed to kill without repercussion and those oppressed with sexual perversion encouraged to throw off self-restraint do not a perfect world make.  Hand outs and "fairness" have never forged admirable characters in their recipients.  Nor do they build a healthy society.  We have not "evolved" into some advanced way of thinking; instead, we have ignored the very simple, obvious laws of nature.  "Although they claimed to be wise, they became fools..."  Romans 1:22 (if you haven't read the whole chapter, I encourage you to)  

Not only lacking repentance for our sins, we ignore them and rename them "choices" or, worse yet, attribute our degradation to God, assuming no responsibility for our actions.  And the disheartening bit is that society won't recognize this fact until it's already suffering the effects from these decisions, if it does at all.  The world is, after all, under the influence of an enemy.  (1 John 5:19)

But God is so constant in His forbearance and grace.  "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness." BUT, "If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar and his word is not in us." 1 John 1:9-10  


Interesting that the commands of God are life - they breathe life, they protect us from unnecessary suffering and ruin.  And they are so often met with such hostility from those they are designed to heal and restore.  Such a shame.  We should reconsider.  "Put your hope in the LORD, for with the LORD is unfailing love and with him is full redemption." Psalm 130:7

The Road to Promise

I had a job interview yesterday. Looong time, no do that. It was for a part time retail position - a nothing job, right? And yet I was so overwhelmed by the details: what should I wear? oh, no, what if I get the job? I'll have to go shopping and look...trendy! I don't know how to do that! What? don't wear heels during the week? I have to shoe shop, too? Skirts on the weekend? I don't own any "30 yr old skirts," just 20-something ones! The shifts start at 4 or 5 pm? I'll need to arrange overlap childcare, until Dave gets home. And on, and on, and on my mind worried, until any anticipation I'd felt melted into paralyzing uncertainty.

The interview itself was nothing to talk about - we chatted, the manager felt sorry for her overworked self, and I tried not to let on that the only centerpieces I've ever "created" were copied from their rival stores. It was short and sweet, to the point (either a really good sign, or a really bad sign), and then I was driving away.

As I drove, a teaching series on the sonship of the believer (Blogger's telling me sonship isn't a word) droned on in the car. Oblivious to it, I was focused on the realization that I don't even want this. All the time spent figuring out fashion on a shoestring budget. All the absorbing I'll need to do to be "up" on the latest trends in home decor. I know, I'm overboard, right? But in order for me to feel confident and comfortable selling and advising people on all their decorating needs, I'll need to immerse myself in the magazines and browse the stores because, trust me, there's not an original creative idea in my head. And crafty? I am not. I'm horrified that they may hire me, only to realize I have no sense of style whatsoever, and relegate me to the stock room until they can dream up a suitable reason to fire me. (and how telling is it that I would LOVE being relegated to the stock room??) Standing face-to-face with the possibility of diving back into the world of appearances, so to speak, it suddenly dawned on me that I don't like it there. I mean, who doesn't drool when they walk into Williams Sonoma? But I'm a total craigslist babe now. I won't buy anything full price. And it's blissfully stress-free that way. And fun - and kind of addicting actually, finding the best deals and all. Rabbit trail...

Why am I even looking for work again? I thought. What was wrong with before? I can't seem to remember now. And then the horrifying realization that school is about to start in September. That means I'll walk Isaac to the bus stop some days, and not see him again until breakfast. My oldest, who made a pouty face when he learned about the interview and then cleverly suggested that I get a job "with kids," so that I can take he and his brothers with me. I could barely think above the sound of my frantic backpedaling. Dread, dread, dread.

The fellow teaching mentioned the Israelites in the wilderness, who weren't there for the wilderness, but in order to get to the promised land. Well cared for, although a bit predictable (I've eaten the same thing for a week before - it is MOST depressing!!), and still they were not satisfied with God's provision (and he was angry). I realized that over the past 2-3 years, I have not been appreciative of God's provision. I mean, I say the thank you prayers, but in my heart, I've longed for other things, and wished He'd done it different.

And I've been wrong.

Injustice

This has been a hard week for me. I'll blame it on ovulation. I have very predictable cycles and patterns of hormone flux that lend me strongly to self-pity or perceived victimization. They're never accurate - just exaggerated, and accompanied by a loss of hope.

I'm a most blessed person: very little sorrow or hardship has really touched my life. Focusing on the good (thanksgiving) and ignoring the bad (praise) is all it takes to get me out of my funk, although I may need repeat "treatments" before I really break free. The wrestling gets tiring though, eh? Must I have bi-weekly lessons in letting go and forgiveness?

Growing up, I don't think others actions affected me quite as much as they do today. Eh, who cares, I'd say. If they knew the effect of their actions, they wouldn't do it, I'd think. And I'd go on my merry way, blessing them and leaving "well enough" alone. But I struggle with this whole iron-sharpens-iron thing. I recognize the value of relationships (namely, insurance against loneliness), but it seems that close relationships with others only seems to bring out the worst in me, and I find myself wishing for distance instead of unity with others.

What exactly does God call us to in relationships? I'm emotionally and physically exhausted just from interacting and caring for my immediate family. Am I really expected to be involved with others and their lives with the same intensity? Reason tells me no. I want to escape the demand - just change our situation, and thus eliminate the possibility. But Jesus' teachings seem so "extra mile." If they ask for this, give more; resenting is equal to murdering; bear others' burdens; give, even in your need; you'll be forgiven, to the measure that you forgive. Just typing it brings desperate tears to my eyes. Ah, the overwhelmed and sleep deprived.

My husband sang to the boys before bed last night, and I was so grateful for the hope in some of the lyrics:

In your Name, there is mercy for sin, safety within - in your holy Name.

In your Name, there is strength to remain, to stand in spite of pain - in your holy Name!

Holding on to all of these injustices is what overwhelms and suffocates me. Acknowledging that I'm hidden in Christ, and although I may be pressed, He won't allow me to be crushed - this brings freedom. Freedom, and the strength to give, when I thought I had nothing left.

Years ago I had the realization that I had to let go of the peace of His presence in order to hold on to the justification of my offense. And it's just not a great swap, at ALL. I'd rather have Jesus than anything...because when it all comes down to it, it really is just Him and me.

Heaven

We were offered the use of a friend's cottage just recently (God bless you, Helen!), and spent the most fantastic 2 days just relaxing. With four small boys. Ha. It was bliss.

The sound of the waves lapping and the trees rustling accompanied all our morning shufflings; the breeze was cool, the sun was warm and cozy; the board games were worn and musty; the trains were thunderous and long. Yes, the tracks were so close, we could've spit on them if the trees had been a little thinner. But, hello? Four boys? How is that not cool?

I discovered a few things about my boys during this getaway. They LOVE board games. They LOVE the beach (as in, "roll around soaking wet in the sand making sand angels" love). And they LOVE the attention of their mother and father. I've decided to start a cottage fund - right after the emergency fund, the van replacement fund, the mortgage fund, the college fund, and the retirement fund are in place. No, I'm serious. I can see my family seriously benefiting from some intentionally planned r&r.

The Plug, designed by Dave with tissues on hand, which protected the carseat from very bad treatment until we could get home to the diapers!

My youngest, loving the outdoors.

Our view looking west from the cottage.

The view directly in front of the cottage.

East facing view. Can you feel the serenity?

Kurt, the kind stranger who set all our minds at ease when he allowed Dave to use his laptop to fire off a work-related email.

Says it all, doesn't it?

Compote

I'm a sucker for cooking for my family. "What do you want for...?" Those five words will kill me if I don't watch out.

Here's what I consider a quick breakfast for the boys: Oatmeal Pancakes with a Mixed Berry Compote. It's actually really easy to make if you use a frozen berry mix. My boys SCARF it.

Berry Compote

3 cups frozen mixed berries, thawed

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 cup water

4 Tbsp butter

Bring the sugar and water to a boil in a saucepan. Lower heat and simmer for 10 mins. Add thawed berries and simmer for 2 more mins. Add butter and stir until melted. Pour over pancakes, ice cream, cheesecake, etc.

Enjoy!

Whisperings

I've been experiencing that restlessness lately. The discontentment that seems to prepare you to leap at the things you once considered insanity. My husband and I are both wanting a change, but see no options in our immediate future. Having sworn off emotional decisions after an international move that set us back more than I care to remember (although, in hind sight, if any event in our lives was ever a sling-shot in God's hands, it would have to be THAT one), we're really trying to discern if we're being side-tracked or prompted. Do I pray, "Change the way things are!"? Or should I be asking for strength to endure? Throughout my day to day, though, I keep having those moments of pause, like an asterick over a cartoon's head, and I wanted to record them here.

I woke up the other morning to find my 7 year old sleeping on the floor beside my bed. Very out of character for him, as he usually crawls right into bed with me. But my initial mental reaction was as equally out of character for me. Normally one to cherish any uninterrupted sleep, I instead thought, "What?! Why is my SON sleeping on my floor?! Doesn't he know he's welcome, WANTED, in bed beside me???" And immediately I was reminded of something once prayed over me many years ago: that I was like a little girl, peeking through a keyhole into the throne room of God, hesitant to come in. But I shouldn't say, "Who am I??" but go with boldness, because He wants me to come in. And I wondered if I haven't been praying as honestly and boldly as God is wanting me to.

The next morning, my 5 year old crawled into bed with us and slept past everyone else's waking. Walking past the bedroom, I heard him crying and stopped to check on him. "Why are you crying?" I asked. "Because I don't want to be in here by myself," he sobbed. "Then get up, come on out," I said, as I went on my morning business. *PAUSE* Discontent with current situations, wishing for change - is God telling me to get up and "go in my own strength," so to speak, and enact change?

And then, an a-ha moment that for some reason has eluded me, despite 30 years of church attendance and 9 years of Christian schooling. My 3 year old came up to me while I was cooking dinner and asked, "Can I have a cowboy hat?" referring to one of the 3 cowboy hats I'd brought home from Dollarama the day before. "I already gave you a cowboy hat," I said. "What did you do with it?" *PAUSE* Romans 11:29 - "The gifts and calling of God are irrevocable." All my life I had heard this as a finger-wagging warning: if you once felt the urge to be a pastor, you can try to forget it, but God will hunt you down and force you into it. But when I asked my son, "Where's the gift I've already given you?" I realized that the meaning of that verse is much better translated as assurance - what God gives CANNOT be taken away from us, whether it be broad like repentance and salvation, or specific like the gift of teaching or giving. Even if we've laid it down for a season, it's always ours to pick up again when it's called for.

Reminded!

Well!! I signed on to wail my fears of being overworked and overwhelmed, my shortcomings as a mother and housekeeper, my lack of vision and ambition; and then I read my initial entry. More than before, I'm assured that those thoughts were breathed in me by God. He is SO gracious!

After a full 10 days of a stomach flu, sleep deprivation and Pine Sol fumes are trying to get the best of me. I know "some" like to remind me that these are the "best days of my life," and not to "wish them away." I understand and appreciate their attempt (although I question their sincerity), but am SO glad that God speaks a better language! "For He Himself knows our frame; He is mindful that we are but dust." (Psalm 103:14)

Situations are never perfect, but the key to our success is perspective. Those who endure trials with hope always seem to come out unscathed. So I will hope, with great expectancy. In the words of my mother: "The best is yet to come!" :D