A Christmas reflection

January is here: dreary and lifeless. Of course, it’s pretty hard to follow “the most wonderful time of the year”.

In two months, Wendy, my mother-in-law, will have been gone three years.

Wendy collected nativity sets and set them out all over the house. Some stayed out all year round; some only came out for Christmas. Several years ago, when she asked her daughters-in-law to each select one of her many sets, I was quickly drawn to the one with the most broken pieces. I think it was partly because I had three small children, and it stressed me out to think about keeping an unbroken set intact. Better to get something already damaged. This set also looked the most realistic to me. It didn’t look shiny. The figurines didn’t have dreamy looks in their eyes. The buildings looked rugged and culturally accurate. Mary’s hair wasn’t blonde and wavy, and her dress didn’t flow as if it were a nice robe. It was simple and plain.

Last year, my father-in-law gave me a different nativity set. It is large and goes outside in front of the house. It is far from simple and plain. I like it, too, though, because it reminds me of Wendy, and I can appreciate it for its beauty, even if it’s not realistic. But this year, I seriously thought about giving it away because I just didn’t feel like it suited me. After talking to my sister-in-law about it, though, I decided to  keep it for now.

I called someone from our church to help me display it properly. He brought over a large outdoor table and some saw horses to hold it up. Now it would be visible from the road in front of our house.

As Don was bringing the boxes down from the attic, he dropped Mary…  she broke in a couple of different places. At first, I didn’t notice, because the gashes were behind her. But as I placed her on the table, I saw the gaping holes. Tears filled my eyes. I couldn’t believe she was already broken.

But then, oddly, I was comforted by her very brokenness.

Mary’s life broke when Gabriel came to talk to her. She was never “normal” again.

How alone she must have felt between the time Joseph knew she was pregnant but hadn’t yet heard from the angel about how it happened. She had to deliver in a manger, for crying out loud! She was sweaty, dirty, poor. Do you think a mid-wife came over to help when cries were heard? Or do you think Joseph did it all by himself?...  Oh yes, there was joy. But oh yes, Mary was broken.

How many times did she feel broken during Jesus’ life?

Did she break apart completely when he died on the cross? The very son who cost her so much in life must have cost her even more in death.

Yet when she came to the end of herself God was there.

Perhaps God chose her because she was willing to break and let Him shine through the brokenness. He had to choose someone willing to suffer. And through her suffering, she tasted joy unlike any that a human has ever experienced since the dawn of humanity—or ever would: having God for a son.

Me, well, I don’t feel quite that broken, to be honest. Not as broken as Mary was.

I watch movies like “The Hunger Games” and “Lord of the Rings”, and bravery almost seems like a different culture. We aren’t really required to be brave anymore.

I told Don one day that I hoped I would be willing to make huge sacrifices like what we see on screen. Would I be willing to suffer like Mary? Like Queen Esther? Would I be brave? Would I march to my death with my sword drawn like the soldiers who stormed the Normandy beaches?

I’ll never forget Don’s response to me: What about the small sacrifices? Those are the hard ones.

He’s right. We forget that we are broken, like Mary.

Some of us have given up big worldly dreams to be obedient to God.

Some of us have been asked to give up financial security.

Some of us have been asked to live with a family member that is difficult and robbing us of our childish happiness.

Some of us have been asked to raise strong willed children, and “go to battle” and resist giving in to them every day.

Some of us have to change poopy diapers even though we struggle with depression: We have to get up and keep going day after day even when it seems like our lives are ebbing away, because we want our children to live.

Some of us have been asked to turn the other cheek when we are falsely accused.

Some of us have to look in the mirror every single day and decide that we will resist whatever our sin struggle is.

Some of us have to raise our children without a spouse.

Yes, friends, we are broken, too. It just might look different than defeating a bloody beast on the battlefield. It takes courage to stand up to our friends and refuse to join in with gossip. It takes courage to cultivate our marriage and spend time thinking about what the other person wants, instead of ourselves. It takes courage to resist sinning in our anger. When we are exhausted, we keep going. When we are tired of serving at church and teaching Noah’s ark for the ninety-fifth time, we plug ahead. We persevere.

And yet, although broken, we still try to look pretty from the street. We keep our holes in the back so that people can’t see our brokenness. But let us not be ashamed, for it is through the brokenness that Jesus shines.

Maybe January’s not so bad after all. Maybe it’s time to think about our brokenness and to let God use it for good. I’m sitting here typing with a house full of boys. A dog is running up and down the hallway on my hard wood floors. Christmas is over. Just like yesterday when I started this post, as I look out my dining room window it is still gray outside, dull and rainy. Upstairs there is craziness, shouting and hollering. But we go on. We go on with God’s help. With His help, the boys upstairs will turn into faithful witnesses to His glory one day.

As Mary said, let us say this to the Lord as well: “Let everything you have said happen to me.” (Luke 1:38) Whatever my lot, Lord, whether noble or ordinary, may I do it for You. Come what may. Let’s go for broke.

Response to "no to sleepovers" article

Original article is here.

 “God has overestimated me”, a friend once said.

We cannot parent the right way without God’s help. Based on that belief, I believe that the number one, most important thing that we can do to raise our children the right way is PRAY. Praying is more important than being consistent, than reading to your child, more important than teaching them to say “yes, ma’am” or “no ma’am”, more important than limiting their screen time, more important than their education, more important than protecting them.

The more lessons I learn in parenting, the more I see my deficiencies. I have learned to be wary of the words “never” and “always”.

Based on my own childhood experiences, I thought that I would never send my kid to a private school… Never let them play football… Never let them go over 3 hours of screen time per day... Never let them have more than one dessert per day…  Never let them have soda more than once or twice a week…

Some never want to send their child to a public school; others never want to homeschool. Some of us determine to go to church regularly with our children, others do not want their children to travel out of state with the youth group, or on overseas missions. Some never want to let them see an R rated movie, or get a tattoo. Some families have decided not to spank, and there are so many reasons behind the decision. For some, they experienced abuse as a child, and do not want to go anywhere near that with their children. I respect that.

However, we need to be careful that our parenting decisions are empowering, not crippling. If we are simply withholding spankings out of fear of damaging your child, there is a chance that although you are sparing your child physical abuse, your child could suffer from being under-disciplined.

Just like so many other gray areas, unless Jesus specifically addresses it in the bible, or we have heard from the Holy Spirit on a certain matter, it is just very difficult to make hard and fast rules.

This brings me to the article at hand: Not letting your child sleepover at friends’ houses.

Might there be exceptions to every rule that we set with our children? Also, what are our motivations? Those of us that desire to protect our children at all cost, is that what God wants? Those of us that desire to expose our children to the world and give them more freedom, is that what God wants?

I think the best question that we can ask ourselves is “What does God want for my children?” Better yet…  What does God want? PERIOD. We spend so much time thinking about our children that we forget to actually think about God. Instead of just going to Him, we go with an agenda: our kids.

As I re-read the article again today, and also many of your comments, I came to an appreciation of both what the author is saying and his approach. He is not accusatory, forceful or dogmatic, but rather instructive, open and honest about his beliefs. He is presenting what he believes is right for his family. I do not think that his intent is to imply that in his opinion, everyone should be like him and do as he says.

Certain truths are absolute: the truths surrounding Jesus, the bible, the Holy Spirit, and our response in faith. However, other truths can vary from family to family. I know a family that has recently decided to home school. I believe that this is what God wanted them to do, for reasons that they considered heavily. For my family, I believe that at the currently moment, it is not God’s will for us to homeschool. Our children seem to be thriving in their environments. Having said that: might there come a day when we should consider it? Perhaps. “Never say never”, I have learned. As long as God is in charge of our lives, we really can’t predict what might change from one day to the next.

But certain things should not change. As Don and I have discussed this article together, one conclusion that we have come to, that we feel like we can hold onto hard and fast: BE WATCHFUL and PAY ATTENTION to your children.

In the past, I have asked my kids explicit questions after going out on a date and leaving them with a babysitter. Questions such as: did you go potty by yourself? Did she help you? Did you feel uncomfortable at all while Mommy and daddy were gone? Questions about touching, etc… 

As I am typing this, Caleb is watching a cartoon called “Zig and Sharko”. It is a little more “grown-uppy” than I am used to him watching. There is a mermaid creature who dresses like, well, Ariel I guess. I need to be vigilant and pay attention to his reaction to the different episodes. If something seems to bother him, perhaps this is a good opportunity to ask questions, and if necessary, not watch it anymore.

When we lived in Wilmore, KY, our family was far away, and I was pregnant with Caleb. We knew that we would need to rely on friends during my delivery. In preparation for the birth, we allowed our older two sons to go to a friend’s house (where they were to stay if I went into labor) as a “practice sleep over” of sorts. During that practice, our baby came! The Lord provided those friends who were willing to host my children. He knew when Caleb was coming, and He prepared us. If we had been overly determined not to let our children sleep over, that could have been a very stressful time for us.

I know that this is a dramatic exception, and that most of you who do not allow sleepovers would allow for exceptions such as these. But it is worth considering: why do we do what we do? What are our motivations? Are we convicted in a godly way? Or in a worldly one? Both neglect and overprotection have the capacity of damaging our children. Think about a child wanting to spend the night so badly with a friend, and being denied that opportunity year after year. Isn’t there a danger of him/her going “off the deep end” in college because of feeling stifled and trapped as a child? What if by “going of the deep end”, the child--now adult-- goes through all sorts of sexual abuse?

In the words of Dory, from Finding Nemo: “If you never let anything happen to him, nothing will ever happen to him”.

Having said that, many of you have convinced me of the need to be extremely wary of sleepovers. Last year at this time, I was lamenting to Don that our children never get asked to sleepover at friends’ houses. I am now very grateful for this fact. I can count on the fingers of one hand the houses that we have allowed them to go within the recent past. Perhaps God was protecting our boys. It is chilling to think about what could and does go on behind closed doors. Jody, you specifically mentioned the availability of danger via internet that is so prevalent now. I agree with you. Don and I have talked about how although the number of pedophiles may not be bigger now than it was 30 years ago, the access to inappropriate images is what has grown. Don pointed out that our society seems to be more openly sexualized than it was before.

Jon Scott, to your comment, I, like you, also grow weary of Dobson’s harping on the downfall of our society. I do not think that it is wise to lament over the “good ole days”.

Another comment that was convicting to me was the one from Stephanie: she points out that much of the sexual abuse does not happen at sleepovers, but rather during the day! We cannot be too vigilant…  again: PRAY PRAY PRAY! AND be aware. We must be our child’s advocate and be willing to fight for him/her. Protect them to the best of our ability.

I do realize that some of the reason that the article author does not allow sleepovers is because of more than just the possibility of sexual abuse. And I applaud his wisdom.

“Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways, acknowledge Him, and He will keep your paths straight.” Prov 3:5-6.

May we seek Him in all things and not lean on our own understanding. May we acknowledge over and over again that we do NOT have all of the answers. Only God does.

I agree with so many of the comments. And I truly appreciate each and every one of you taking the time. I have learned more from this facebook post than perhaps any other, thanks to you all.

Feel free to add more!

And God bless all of us as we try to seek Him in every decision.

Facebook jealousy

That moment when you think “she has it made”. Her life seems perfect. Every picture looks like a dream.

Most of us would admit that minutes before the “perfect Kodak moment” (if we are ever able to produce one within our lifetime) and minutes after, it’s not uncommon for two of us to be in an argument, one of the kids to be screaming, and for us to be shouting out bribes in the most vociferous way, using leverage that we never dreamed we would succumb to even in desperate situations such as this. But desperate times do call for desperate measures: after all, we are trying to achieve screen candy, a jealous worthy photo.

From the wishing side--I have been on this side far more than I care to admit--it’s not all that different from wishing you had someone else’s boyfriend in high school. From where you stand, he looks perfect and cute. Little do you know that he leaves dirty underwear on the floor, talks about bodily functions, burps out loud and then brags about it.

The age old saying “the grass is always greener” could never be more true. If you are ever able to get the other lawn, you would soon see that your lawn doesn’t look quite as bad as you thought, and walking a mile in the other person’s shoes -- or on their grass, to be consistent with the analogy -- will probably make you want to strut right back over to your own grass again.

A very wise person recently said to me “stop focusing on what you do not have and focus on what you DO have”.

However, it is difficult to remember this very logical train of thought when facebook grabs you and makes you feel like your life is not nearly as fun as Ramona’s. You never ever get to go to the beach in comparison to Jacquie. You certainly have never been to cool places like Annie. If only you could decorate your house like Josephine. She has the most adorable pinterest-worthy vintage table made out of broken glass pieces with a painting sitting on top of it in a distressed wooden frame.

Somehow, Satan keeps using the same old trick, and it is still working on us. (I guess that’s why he keeps using it). How can we resist the enemy so that he will flee from us (James 4:7)?

Think of someone you know who is truly, truly happy. There is someone that comes to my mind who fits that description. She does not live in a very large house. I don’t know if she goes to the beach often--if at all. On facebook, she rarely posts, but often leaves positive comments on others’ status updates. She is always ready to give a smile and a hug. She serves others often: at church and in the community.

Happiness is not what we think it is. It doesn’t look like what we usually associate it with, either. Happiness is simplicity, a relationship with Jesus, fellowship with a friend.

Not only that, but Jesus doesn’t promise happiness. He promises love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control, as fruits of the Spirit. But happiness is not on the list.

In fact, we are also promised suffering, as Christians. So perhaps if we feel neglected in any way, if we feel like good times are passing us by, and that this is causing us to suffer, perhaps we should be thankful. An easy life with no suffering, although facebook worthy, is not at all what God promised.

Occasionally, my boys watch a Disney show called “Lab Rats” on Netflix--your typical middle school sit-com. In the episode that we watched together on Saturday (yes, I watched it with them…) they were supposed to learn the art of aikido fighting. Apparently, the principle behind this particular martial art is to figure out your opponent’s attack mechanism, and to use that very move against him.

How about if we used aikido in our thought process to deal with jealousy? Instead of indulging those thoughts of inferiority and worthlessness when those lies pummel us by surprise, when we find ourselves giving in, we should use those very feelings of hurt and remember that we are right where Jesus wants us to be. If we are feeling left out from the world and we are suffering because we are not pursuing the “things” that FB tells us we should, then guess what, bam! That is our reminder that we are on the right path. If we are suffering because we are missing out on what the world can offer… um hello! That’s a good thing, right? It’s OK that we are not keeping up…  it may be more than OK. It may just be the right thing.

So use those not-quite-fitting-in feelings, and feel thankful that you are probably right where Jesus wants you to be. And in that thankfulness, you will be defeating the enemy.

Better Broken

My mother remembers my grandmother lamenting that she couldn’t keep anything from breaking “all her married life!” When you have three boys, things break. When you are human, things break. 

When we lived in Birmingham, AL, a friend of mine accidentally broke one of my willow people.

 

 I was upset at first. Don reminded me that this is life, that friends are more important.

One Christmas, I was at my sister-in-law’s house and while I was washing the dishes, I broke her beautiful glass cake plate. When I offered to replace it, she graciously refused, saying that these things happen.

In a way, I prefer an older car to a brand new one. There is so much stress when you sit down behind the wheel of a brand spankin’ new vehicle. But when you are driving a beater, you can relax. After all: what’s the worst thing that can happen to that old thing?

In my house, many things are worn out, broken. They remind me of the life that we live, the people I love. It’s like Matar and his “dents” in Cars 2. He doesn’t want Holly Shiftwell to buff out his dents because they remind him of his best friend, Lightning McQueen.

What about us?

I prefer not to be broken. I prefer to have things go very well in my life. I prefer for my children not to be “broken”, hurt or despised. I prefer to be perfect. But what does God want?

In Psalms 51:17, we read “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.”
Are we better broken?

I have a drawing in my house of a shepherd holding a lamb over his shoulders.

“ …A sheep who keeps leaving the flock. The shepherd would break the leg of the sheep so it couldn't run off, and carry it on his shoulders while the sheep healed, caring for the sheep and building a bond with the sheep, so the sheep would love the shepherd and not leave him.” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Talk%3AShepherd

Are we better broken?

Perhaps the next time I see something broken in my house, I can use that as a reminder of two things:

1. My life is not boring.

2. God loves broken things. Broken things need to be repaired, and guess who makes the best handy man?

Did you know that inside a sand dollar is the coolest skeletal structure in the shape of a dove? It really does look like a tiny dove. But if you don’t break the outside, you can’t see the beautiful inside.

Jesus says that unless a seed fall to the ground and dies, it remains a single seed.  But if it dies, it produces many seeds.

So, if we are broken, does that mean that God can bring even more good out of us than he could have if we weren’t? I don’t know. And I don’t desire to break. But if I find myself in a broken place, these thoughts give me hope.