Just Frances T 
I thought today would be a good day to just pop over and get some stuff at Costco. I mean, it was 11 AM on a Tuesday, so it can’t be THAT crowded, right? Well, it turns out when school is out, New Year’s Eve is tomorrow, a new sale begins today, and people just got paid it actually is kind busy. Kind of busy, as in “the zombie apocalypse starts tomorrow and we need to stock up on water and $1.25 hot dogs” busy. Oh, and Costco shares a parking lot with a mall, so there’s that. Needless to say, it was packed.
After parking on the far end of the lot, I got everything I needed, and was back in my car in 30 minutes. Yay for Costco’s efficiency in moving people through! In order to leave, I had to drive back through the busiest part of the lot. I wasn’t looking forward to it, but at least the hardest part of my trip was behind me. Waiting a bit more would be easy.
I got in line behind 4 or 5 other cars. We were stopped because cars were pulling out of their parking spots and needed us to make way for them. After waiting for about 5 seconds, the car in front of me tried to pull to the left to pass the stopped cars. He stopped dead in his tracks and had to make his way back into the line when he saw that the car that had just pulled out was driving straight towards him.
We crept up another 15 feet and stopped again for another exiting car. Again, after waiting a few seconds, the car in front of me lunged forward, trying to pass the stopped cars, only to realize that another car was heading his direction. This time, he couldn’t slip back into line easily. He had to sheepishly back up and resume waiting with everyone else for another 5 seconds.
After seeing this happen twice, I literally thought, “Dude, there’s no sense in getting mad at Costco.” Immediately, I realized that this should be a phrase I repeat to myself often because I am just the type of person to get angry about things I can’t control.
I mean, really, what can you do about tons of people in the store and cars in the lot? What can you do about having to wait in line or navigate around people who stop to get samples? After years of trying to figure it out, I’ve realized the answer is nothing. I can’t do anything about Costco or countless other situations in my life. When I get angry about stuff that is out of my control, I make a fool out of myself. I hurt the people I love. It’s just not worth it.
Even more importantly, I often work against my goals when I blow up about things beyond my control. That guy at Costco actually made his own wait longer by trying to get around waiting. The approaching cars had to wait for him to get out of their way, making a roadblock for everyone. We all waited longer. How many times in my life have I had to clean up a mess made by my impatience? Too many, and it often takes much longer than it would have if I let it go in the first place.
When I get angry about things I can’t change, I invest emotional energy and time into them. I don’t have enough time and energy to waste on stuff like that & I suspect I’m not the only one.
There’s no sense in getting mad at Costco.
This week, I had the bittersweet challenge of sharing with the staff and leadership of my church that I would be stepping down from the staff. I’m not leaving the church, just stepping down from working there. Though it was a decision I prayed through (and avoided) for a long time, I have felt for a while that I needed to focus my attention and time on my son. Sharing this news was bitter because I love my job and coworkers. I am blessed to have such a position and I honestly would rather do anything than step down. It was also sweet because I finally took the step of faith to which God has been calling me. The peace and clarity that have evaded me for weeks finally returned to my life. I knew to the core of my being it was the right thing for me to do in this season.
Several people have said to me in response, “You won’t regret it. You’ll be happy that you stayed home with your son.” On the one hand, I am sure when I’m a wizened old lady I’ll look back and remember this time with nothing but fondness, thankful for this calling. I’m sure there will be countless blessings that I can’t possibly foresee right now along the way.
On the other hand, I am also sure I will regret it at times. There will be moments (sometimes long ones) where I will miss the stimulating challenges and conversations with other adults work affords. I will wish I were anywhere but home on long days when my son takes his tired frustration out on me. I will wonder whether I was really hearing from God as I worry through bills and pray for provision.
I say all this in advance because even when I’m sure this is where God called me to go, I will doubt and regret as I walk this path. People make fun of Israel for wanting to go back to Egypt as they grew tired and restless from wandering in the wilderness. It’s easy to think they were foolish from the outside looking in, but very different when walking in their shoes. I imagine most people would choose predictable bondage over walking by faith.
Following Jesus isn’t easy and has a high cost. Right now, it costs the ministry I love and the security I have been clinging to. It will hurt to walk by faith and trust that God hasn’t forgotten me. I’m saying this out loud on the front end, so that I expect it when discouragement comes my way. I’m also giving myself permission to admit it when I find myself overwhelmed with disillusionment, so that my temporary mood does not become permanent as I bury it deeper in hopes of making it go away.
Instead, on those days I will remind myself of Paul’s words in Philippians 3:
12-14 I’m not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don’t get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I’ve got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I’m off and running, and I’m not turning back.
15-16 So let’s keep focused on that goal, those of us who want everything God has for us. If any of you have something else in mind, something less than total commitment, God will clear your blurred vision—you’ll see it yet! Now that we’re on the right track, let’s stay on it.
I will also add, “Self, press on. This isn’t the end. Jesus laid hold of you for his glory and purposes. Even if you lose sight of those things, don’t lose sight of him. He’s got you. Don’t worry about the path. Follow him.”
“Tel Aviv?”
I stared at the return address on the package I’d just picked up from the post office. I didn’t recognize the name, but then, I don’t know anyone in Israel. Olivia, one of my best friends, had mentioned in passing that if I received a weird package in the mail, it was from her. This was definitely weird; hence, it had to be from her. I traced the Hebrew markings with my finger and wracked my brain trying to figure out what was inside. It was a tube. It felt solid and heavier than you’d expect for its size. When I shook the package, nothing. “Something must be inside; it came from halfway around the world,” I reasoned.
As soon as I got back to the car, I called Olivia. “Did you send me a package from Israel?” I asked.”YES! Do you love it?” She was clearly delighted with her gift, with laughter in her voice. When I told her I hadn’t opened it yet, she said, “Call me once you’ve opened it.”
When I got home, I had to work up the courage to open the tube because I honestly hate opening unexpected gifts. I always worry that it’s going to be something terrible and that I’m going to have to choose between lying to or disappointing the giver. It doesn’t even occur to me that I’ll like it at first.
What I lost sight of was the fact that Olivia is an exceptional gift giver. Her gifts are always thoughtful and reflect a keen understanding of the recipient. She’s given me countless gifts that I’ve adored. She’s introduced me to many musicians, movies, and TV shows that were pivotal for me. I really didn’t have any reason to worry based on her track record, but I couldn’t help it. I stared at my mysterious gift a bit longer.
Likewise, often I am paralyzed by fear when it comes to receiving the gifts God longs for me to enjoy. I get so afraid of the unknown that I refuse to move. I turn away or change the subject, just so that I don’t have to venture into the unknown territory when he beckons. For the past several months, I’ve stared at a scary, new gift that I know God wants me to “open,” but I’ve found every reason not to. All of my reasons boil down to, “What if it just isn’t right for me?”
God’s track record is perfect. His gifts, especially the ones I hesitated to open (e.g. parenting) have blown me away. I shouldn’t wonder, “What if it won’t fit?” or “What if he doesn’t ‘get’ me?” yet I do. Even when I can think back to countless perfect gifts from God that betray his understanding of me to my core, I hesitate. Even when the Bible plainly states that every good and perfect gift comes from God (James 1:17), I doubt. Even when Jesus taught “If even sinful people can give good gifts, how much more could God give such gifts?” (Matthew 7:11), I assume it’s abstract or meant for someone else.
But it’s not. God is my Heavenly Father, who loves me as his child. He is my creator, who knew me before I was born and sees every day of my life yet to come. Of course his gifts will fit me perfectly!
When I finally opened Olivia’s gift, it was amazing. It was perfect. It was… Read More
My son is all about the CD player/alarm clock on my nightstand right now. A couple weeks ago, he noticed that if he pushed buttons, indicator lights lit up. He also learned that if he pulled open the lid, a secret compartment was inside. After days of him sticking credit cards and other trinkets in the CD player, I decided to show him what it really did. I opened up the disorganized box of CDs stuffed under my bed, grabbed a random, forgotten CD, put it in, and pressed play. The opening riff of “This Charming Man” by The Smiths began playing. Thomas lit up, radiating pure joy as he stared at the CD player. He immediately began to push the buttons again, learning that they skipped songs, stopped play, and resumed the song. He’d flip to random songs at first, but he always came back to the opening song. If that song ended, he’d put it back on again.
After a few days of hearing the same song, I grabbed another random, forgotten CD and put it in the player. This time it was SheDaisy, “Little Goodbyes” that played. Again, Thomas lit up and began pushing buttons, but he always came back to “Little Goodbyes.” Currently, Thomas is listening to “Long Time Gone” by the Dixie Chicks. I’m thankful that before I get teary-eyed about my ever-growing little boy listening to track #2 (“Landslide”), he scrolls through the songs to play “Long Time Gone” again. Whatever CD it is, he always listens to the first song.
After days of hearing the same songs over and over, I find myself humming them when Thomas isn’t listening to them. I just can’t seem to get away from them! I’ve learned 2 things from this experience.
1) I need to choose wisely which CD I put in the CD player because I will hear track #1 all. day. long.
2) What I hear most will sink deeply into me. I like all the music Thomas has been listening to, but I find myself suddenly singing along with words I didn’t know I knew. I’ve begun thinking about what the songs mean and sometimes surprised to discover nuances I hadn’t noticed before. Over time, the songs became reflexive, pouring out of me.
This second realization makes me think about other areas of my life. What am I hearing/seeing/focusing on most? Whatever it is, it’s going to become a part of me. I will be changed by what I’m exposed to for better or worse.
Lately, I find myself confused and stressed. Not surprisingly, I’ve been focused on that which is confusing and stressful. I told Matt I was going to stop complaining about a certain situation and he looked at me and earnestly asked, “After a certain hour of the day? Or do you mean limiting it to a certain number of words per day?” Ouch. Apparently, I’ve been complaining non-stop.
I’m choosing instead to focus on that which gives me life and hope, because I want to be someone like Jeremiah describes in the Bible:
But blessed are those who trust in the Lord
and have made the Lord their hope and confidence.
They are like trees planted along a riverbank,
with roots that reach deep into the water.
Such trees are not bothered by the heat
or worried by long months of drought.
Their leaves stay green,
and they never stop producing fruit.Jeremiah 17:7-8
Lord, give me eyes to see you and ears to hear your voice, so that I might be someone that is reflexively loving, joyful, peaceful, patient, kind, good, faithful, gentle, and self-controlled. Amen.
Yesterday, my page-a-day calendar of 1,000 places to see before you die featured the statue of David in Florence, Italy. Most of the time, I skim the blurb about each place, but not yesterday. The last sentence almost seemed like an afterthought, but it completely blew me away: “Michelangelo was just 26 when he began work on David, using a block of marble that had been judged defective and discarded.”
While Michelangelo’s age is interesting, I was drawn to the second part of the sentence. The marble had been judged defective and was discarded. The artist was able to coax a masterwork from “inferior” marble.
That story reminds me of the original David. He, too, was overlooked by people. When the prophet Samuel sought to anoint the next king of Israel, he was drawn to the wrong person. God had to remind him, “Don’t judge by his appearance or height, for I have rejected him. The Lord doesn’t see things the way you see them. People judge by outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7).
David was derided by his brother as well as Saul when he wanted to fight Goliath. “Don’t be ridiculous!” Saul replied. “There’s no way you can fight this Philistine and possibly win! You’re only a boy, and he’s been a man of war since his youth,” (1 Samuel 17:33).
In the end, it didn’t matter what other people thought of David. It mattered what God saw and brought out of him. People judged David to be inferior, but God wrought him into a warrior and king.
Such is true of us today. Regardless of what we see (or don’t), God is still in the business of turning the world upside-down. In Jesus’ hands, the most damaged raw materials become works of art. May we trust in God’s transformational work in both our own lives and the lives of those we’d like to judge defective and discard.
“Show me.”
It was my earnest, succinct prayer in a quiet moment as I sat outside waiting for the burgers to grill. Frustration with my day and my toddler swirled around my head. I don’t know what I wanted to see, I just wanted God to show up. I closed my eyes and waited.
I heard a cricket chirp. “It’s too early for that…is that it?” I felt the wind on my face. “God, are you trying to show me something?” I stared up at the sky: cloudless and unremarkably blue. Nothing.
The burgers were done and it was time to go back inside. As I stepped onto the porch, I heard my son wailing. Up from his nap already. With a sigh, I opened the door and stepped inside. Immediately, Thomas came towards me and wanted to be picked up. He wrapped his arms around me with all of his might and buried his head in my neck. We both sighed.
“Show me.”
I didn’t know what I wanted/needed to see when I breathed my prayer earlier, but I knew God showed up in my son’s embrace. What I saw was real and deep forgiveness. Tom Tom wasn’t thinking about the difficult day we’d had; he simply was happy to see me. It was a fresh start, grace in the flesh.
God answered my prayer.
Check out this video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ahg6qcgoay4
Last week, I preached on how pivotal circumstances grow our faith. I used this video during the service to illustrate the need to train our eyes to see God’s glory in our story. Every service, it was fun to hear people as they watched the video. I could hear murmurs of counting, cheering when they got the number right, and then disbelief at the reveal. “No way!” People would laugh out loud and gasp, “Seriously?!” I love to surprise people, so it cracked me up every time to listen to a gobsmacked congregation.
It’s amazing what we don’t see, though, isn’t it? This video reminds me that it’s so easy to miss something that is right in front of me, like God’s faithful love. I get so distracted by what I think I need to focus on that I miss the most remarkable thing. What if in times of stress and pain, I believe God is hiding from me, but I’m really just distracted?
Lord, help me to see you. Amen.
Having a baby has made me poignantly aware of time. My day is marked by times: bath time, walk time, nap time, oh-god-why-are-you-awake time. On a larger scale, time to rotate out another set of too small clothes happens all too often. I admit, sometimes I’m surprised by how sentimental I get knowing Thomas will never wear certain clothes again. Every time I pack up outgrown clothes, it feels like time is slipping away.
Sometimes I resent being a parent, as all-consuming as it is. I long for the time when I could focus for hours on end, without distraction because I feel like I never have enough time to get stuff done now. Clean laundry sits in the basket. Dirty dishes in the sink. Projects I long to do at work are unfinished. Always a growing to-do list. I feel like I’m failing as a parent, as an employee, as a wife. Everyone wants time and there just isn’t enough to go around.
Tom is an intrusion to my life, but I’m realizing how desperately I need to be distracted. I need to be pulled out of work and tasks and see the world around me, especially the people around me. I’ve had the exact same amount of time in a day that I do now, but now I realize how little it has always been. I’ve never had as much time as I thought I did, so I wasted much of it.
As I walked with a sleepy-but-fighting-a-nap Thomas on a lovely Springlike day a couple weeks ago, I realized what a precious gift it was to be outside to enjoy the sunshine and crisp breeze in the middle of my workday. What a gift to be “distracted” and to have time to experience the world around me. I’ve always wanted to make the most of my time and do as much as I possibly could. Now I’m beginning to realize that making the most of my time is to embrace the distractions and be present in the moment that God has given me. What peace I find when I stop trying to control every area of life and just enjoy the journey for what it is!
Now it’s playtime with Thomas.
Sundays are a family day around here. Since we attend church on Saturday nights, we stay in our pajamas until Sunday afternoon, only venturing out for a family activity like a walk or grocery shopping. Matt will often let me sleep in by taking the first baby shift, so gets to choose what’s on TV in the morning. Today, he was watching church. This is not uncommon at all. It’s nice to hear different preachers and their takes on the Bible. Plus, you hear different songs and see different styles of worship.
This morning, I was surprised to find that Matt was watching a Catholic mass. It was interesting to see how different it was from most churches I’ve visited. The piece that stuck out to me most was one sentence in one prayer, “We remember churches all over the world.” There are many parts of Catholic theology with which I do not agree, but remembering the Church, the whole body of believers, in prayer is something I believe is missing from many church services.
It is all too easy to focus on only one church (i.e. the one I’m a part of). We can fall into the trap of thinking our church is the coolest or the only one doing God’s kingdom work. I’m so thankful for the humbling reminder (in a Catholic mass, no less!) that God is moving in many churches, in many countries, and in many ways.
This morning I remember churches all over the world in prayer. I pray that we would proclaim the truth about Jesus clearly and that lives eternities would change as a result. I pray that we would have unity in the Church, so that in spite of our differences in minor issues, we would be able to be salt & light. I pray Paul’s challenge from Ephesians 4 would be true in my life and in the Church:
“As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to one hope when you were called; one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.”
Amen.
[Edit: I accidentally posted this when I meant to save a draft last night. D’oh!]
This morning, my church is hosting a simulcast for men featuring Craig Groeschel from Lifechurch. It’s called Fight and is a rather brilliant way to launch his book with the same title. The premise is that men have the heart of a warrior and they need to step up and fight for their marriages, their families, and their very souls. I filter that press release talk and I assume he’s going to talk about porn a lot, since that seems to be the topic of men’s events these days. Being in ministry, I know that this is a topic that can have devastating effects on relationships and the struggle is clearly a felt-need for many guys. We hosted a similar event a few months back and about 80 guys showed up.
All this got me to wondering, “What is the topic we’d have to hammer over and over again for women? What topic do we just not get, no matter how many times we hear it, read it, and admit we need it?” The first thing that popped into my head is that women have confused access to opportunities with a mandate to do everything. To put it another way, somehow “We can do it” has become “We must do it all.” It’s this massive weight so many of us are carrying around on our shoulders and beating ourselves up when we fall short.
After my son was born (yes, I know I need to update my “About” page with this info, it just doesn’t work correctly on the tablet I most often am writing on), I had a fairly easy transition. I take no credit for this fact; my son is an easy baby and my husband had several weeks of leave as well. I worked months ahead, so I didn’t think much at all about work while on maternity leave. When it came time to return, suddenly, it wasn’t so simple. Even though I can work from home around his nap schedule most of the time, there are times where I just have to get things done when he’s awake. I’ve become quite adept at doing many things with one hand as I carry him around, but the one feat I haven’t managed is to be present with him as I check things off my to-do list.
I can’t do it all.
And for the first time in my life, I don’t really care that I can’t.
I still work and I still love my job, but I say “No” more. I count the cost my family pays for my “Yes” much more than I ever did before. In short, I thoughtfully prioritize.
In spite of that, I always feel like I’m failing someone: my boss, my husband, my son, the people who email and never get a reply, myself for not losing the baby weight yet. I cognitively know I can’t do everything, but I have a nagging feeling that I’m supposed to rise above that and manage to do it anyways.
So, maybe I care a little that I can’t do it all.
After I’m through crying about it to God, I hear the same thing, “Work, don’t work, it doesn’t matter. Do what I’ve called you to do.” I want to do everything for many reasons, but they boil down to the fact that I want to be better than I am. I’m faced with the brutal fact that I’m just little ol’ me. I think I’ve always wanted to be better because that would mean people would think I’m awesome. I’d be worthy of their respect and love.
The more I reflect on it, I’m pretty sure God wanted me to have a child so that I couldn’t do everything. I have to face the fact that I’m not infinite on a regular basis. That causes me to pray more. The more I pray, the more I realize God loves me without all the plate spinning. He loves me and I am his.
Maybe trying to do everything is ultimately a blessing because it’s finally led me to the one thing I needed all along: resting at Jesus feet in his perfect love.
Frances
Just Frances T 