transparent: 40 words in 40 days

Living a transparent life can be a juggle. 

I firmly believe that to live a life in Christ and to mature, one must be transparent. At the same time, revealing the deep places of the soul to a fool can prove to be unwise. Maturity looks like learning to discern those who are safe and trustworthy to bear the burdens of our soul.

We all approach life with a grid. And usually our responses are more about the grid than the things or circumstances causing our reactions. That means that we may react in a way incongruent with reality. We may misjudge people. We may judge circumstances incorrectly. 

Here is a real-life example. Recently as Sam (1st grade) walked out the door, I said, “We forgot to study your 5s!” He is learning to add. He was somewhat stuck on the 5 cards. He responded that his test would be that day. 

At that moment, he had to walk out the door to make the bus. We could not study. He failed that test, by the way. But when he walked out, Matt and I began a discussion that escalated us to “Sam may have to go to summer school.” That actually came out of one of our mouths. Names will not be mentioned to protect the innocent or crazy. The other one said, “He’s in first grade.” Oh, back to reality.

Our context escalated us and we had to work together to land back on terra firma. 

As we strive to live transparently with one another, we confessed areas where our grid had gotten warped. I talked to a few friends that day about it. And we scheduled a conference with Sam’s teacher for a reality check. 

Sam has since moved on to the 6s. And we are still checking in with our grid. We desire to live congruent lives that are transparent. 

surrender: 40 words in 40 days

Last night I had the honor of mingling with about 25 or so women and discussing striving versus surrender. What does it look like to surrender? Why do we find it so difficult?

One wise woman mentioned the verse in Proverbs 31 that says, “she smiles at the future.” This is a picture of surrender. The word smiles is translated laughs in other versions. It can also mean to play.

In striving, I find my value in what I do and in what I can accomplish. My value is as finite as my energy or my abilities. Lust is at the center of striving. I end up taking from someone, somewhere or something to fill myself up.

In surrender, my value is eternal. My King sent his Son to die in my place. My soul will live forever in communion with him. I have value and dignity because I am made in His image. Love is at the center of surrender. I rest in my belovedness. I love others from that overflowing center of love. 

When I am surrendered, I cease demanding to understand. I don’t have to have an answer for everything. I accept my place under a Higher Authority.

She smiles at the days to come. Strength and dignity are her clothing. She has handed her burdens over to her King.

I love the photo above. These are my sisters, two of my favorite people on earth. The expressions are priceless. They capture the essence of smiling at the days to come and play. This is a picture of surrender.

striving: 40 words in 40 days

Once upon a time, I planted some zinnias outside my back door. Actually, I planted quite a lot of zinnias. And  you know what grew up? Weeds. 

At the time, God was teaching me quite a bit about striving. He used this illustration of the weeds to show me that toiling and striving produced weeds. Striving is a fixation on doing things to bring about a certain result.

Now planting some seeds from a package labeled “zinnias” with beautiful bright pictures of zinnias on it - well, that is a reasonable expectation. Sometimes I study the Bible, pray, share with others - and it seems reasonable to expect that God would bless me. 

The Pharisees shared a similar misconception of how this spiritual growth takes place. Jesus turned it all upside down when he said, “The first shall be last and the last shall be first.”

When those weeds came up in droves, I plucked one up out of the ground and took it to a seasoned gardener. “These are not zinnias,” I brilliantly postulated. 

“No. No, they are not. Those, my dear, are weeds.” 

Well, I repented. I confessed to striving. I told the Lord I had been expecting X, Y, and Z to happen because I did A, B, and C. I asked the Lord to surprise me with some zinnias.  Not 2 days later, I spent the night at the hospital here in Williamson County. Matthew had an emergency appendectomy. There on the nurses’ station counter in a make-shift vase of a water bottle stood my zinnias.

And I saw the Lord’s goodness in the land of the living.

PS The surgery was four years ago. Matthew recovered quickly. I have never successfully grown zinnias from seed.

mulligan: 40 words in 40 days

Yesterday I bombed as a mom. It happens.

The 6th grade field trip to Adventure Science Museum approached us. I had signed up to go as a chaperone. I told Joshua that if he did not want me to go, I would not go. Matt even asked him in under-cover CIA-mode if he was okay with me going.

Having received the thumbs up, I proceeded with clearing my schedule for today. When I got home yesterday and mentioned the field trip, Joshua said I was not on the list to chaperone. A lengthy discussion ensued. I sniffed out that he possibly did not really want me to go, but he would not own it.

Ultimately I pulled a Dr. Spock migraine move. I got out my stopwatch app. I said if you don't tell me what you want at the end of 30 seconds, I am making the decision. And I am going.

At 29.75 seconds, he said, "No."

Now, I had prepared to hear this. I thought I was fully okay with it. I had begged him to tell me the truth. And when I heard it, I felt a bullet in my heart. I did the only thing a real mom could do. I went to my room and cried.

The truth hurts.

I had to tell him the truth about my reaction. I put him in a catch 22, a no-win situation. I apologized.

And later in the evening, Joshua asked me to go on the field trip. He had good reasons and explained them to me. I decided to go and honor his olive branch.

I am thankful for grace in parenting. I am thankful for a mulligan.

nearness: 40 words in 40 days

It is a frightful thing to contemplate the nearness of God. In the Old Testament, men fell dead when they touched the ark. As priests worked in the Holy of Holies, a jingle bell sewn in the hem of their robe alerted the ones outside that the priest still breathed. He also worked with a rope tied to one ankle. If he fell dead, the others could drag him out without having to enter to retrieve him. 

When Jesus came, he healed by his touch. When Mary wiped his feet and anointed him with oil using her hair to dry them, he said that her story would be told wherever the gospel went. John reclined on Jesus’ chest and heard his heartbeat. Jesus touched. The blind, the lepers, the bleeding, the dead - all were healed. 

Today, are you afraid of the nearness of God?

What if Jesus touched you?

His Spirit resides in us - in our bodies. You can’t get much closer than that. Yet so many days, I go about life and forget about His nearness. My breath is His breath. I can use touch to heal or hurt. My words have the power of life or death. 

Am I a vessel of the Spirit? 

I want to remember that He is always near.

“...they delight in the nearness of God.” Isaiah 58:2