Everything Becomes Nothing

How many kings stepped down from their thrones?

How many lords have abandoned their homes?

How many greats have become the least for me?

And how many gods have poured out their hearts

To romance a world that is torn all apart

How many fathers gave up their sons for me?

This Christmas morning as the pinks meet the blues across the entire expanse of the endless sky in a sunrise worthy of the birth of a King...I'm reminded of how incomprehensible this moment we celebrate really is. 

We know the child was born in a stable, laid in a manger and wrapped in swaddling cloths. We know it so well we don't even see it. Nativities are so common they have to outdo each other to even be noticed. The Christ child has joined Frosty, Rudolph and Santa irreverently across suburban lawns in the form of inflatables.   

But as we see this scene and see right through it in its familiarity, have we grasped its grandeur? Has it lost its awe? Can we fathom its greatness?

God created the ENTIRE UNIVERSE. He spoke it into being. The galaxies are His.

He laid the foundations of the earth.

He keeps the sea inside its boundaries, saying, 'This far and no farther will you come, here your proud waves must stop!’

He creates a channel for the torrents of rain.

He lays out the path for the lightning.

He directs the movement of the stars— binding the cluster of the Pleiades or loosening the cords of Orion.

He directs the sequence of the seasons...

(from Job 38)

But then, because it wasn't enough, because all He wanted was a right relationship with you, and with me, not all the cattle on a thousand hills, or all the stars in skies, He became the humblest of beings--a human child. Likely the newborn most helpless of all species, He grew in the womb of a virgin girl. He was entrusted to a pair of unwed teenagers. He shrunk from immeasurably huge to tiny. 

We adore new babies. We visit them in their delivery rooms. We are in awe of the miracle of birth and life.

But this is no ordinary 6 pound 8 ounce baby boy. This baby boy won the war. This baby boy gave everything, literally EVERYTHING up for you. He was limitless, but He became helpless for you.

I can't do this idea justice, but I couldn't keep it to myself. Today, I dare you to try to wrap your head around how the God of all creation became flesh. And then I dare you to remember why. Jesus was born today because God loves you that much...

"Thanks be to God for His indescribable gift!" 

-2 Corinthians 9:15 

  

Choosing to Be Homeless

For Bolivians from the flat hot jungle plains, my two girls love some snow! We've had a couple snow days in as many weeks, and Angie's had some time to take advantage of the slippery white stuff on our tiny saucer sled. But the first snow day we had, should have been called a freezing-rain day. Instead of the beautiful six-sided fluffy white flakes, we were deluged with miserably cold and wet near-ice falling from the sky and coating everything it touched.

It was a Friday, my morning to spend sorting mail at Jefferson Street Baptist Center, so she joined me and worked on her alphabet, (you'd be surprised how many adults have a hard time getting the mail in exactly the right order!)

Serving the homeless is not a new thing for Angie, she joins us most Thursday nights to serve dinner and pass out clothes and toiletries with Lost Sheep Ministries. 

But this particular Friday, as our guests sought refuge from the icy rain that soaked through every tattered layer right down to the bone, it got to me. When our shift was over and we left the warmth of the building returning to the frozen parking lot, I was heartbroken for my poor friends who couldn't even stay dry under the expressway overpasses. When my sympathy showed, Angie quickly reassured me in a confident voice, "Mommy, they made bad choices."

It struck me. It struck me like a ton of bricks to hear words I must have said at some point be repeated to me and sound so heartless. It struck me to be reminded why many lack compassion for these downtrodden, because they "chose" this way of life. And it struck me that God so generously overlooks our guilt and reckless "choices" when He sees us with such love through the grace of Christ's blood.

So, I defended them. I corrected Angie, that some of them were on the streets by choice, or by consequence of their stupid decisions about substances and crimes, but others were disabled and unable to find work, mentally ill and marginalized, financially ruined, or addicts helpless in the clutches of their addiction. Many were actively working to sober up and put their lives back together. And all had been dealt a very rough hand. Few had a situation so simple as to say they'd chosen to be homeless.

I saw no harm in my response. Both our sides had truth to them. Most of our friends on the streets could have made better choices and stayed off the streets. Many still could swallow their pride and choose to accept help from others, or make the tough decision to get clean and straighten out their lives. But all of them deserve our compassion, as none of us have lived perfect lives by any means, and most of them have had circumstances far beyond their control lead them to where they are now.

That is, I saw no harm in my response until the next day.

You've likely gathered that Angie's sassiness will rival any tweenage girls', but for some reason after a particularly uncalled for snotty afternoon I felt a nudge at bedtime to ask her why she'd been acting this way. After some prodding, she hid her face and started to cry. Finally, she revealed that she was "scary" (her way of saying she's scared.) "I see people sometimes and I'm scared I'm going to be like them," she confessed.

It quickly came together without further explanation that seeing homeless people regularly wasn't intimidating when she thought they had made bad choices that lead them to where they are today. But as soon as she learned there were variables outside of their control, she feared she might someday join them whether she wanted to or not.

It touched me, as I can't say such thoughts have never crossed my mind about her past and where it might lead her in the future, about how vulnerable she was in her first family and then in the orphanage, and how little power we have to guarantee a safe and happy future for her even now.

But instead of dwelling on the uncertainty of life, I reassured her that every person on the street either has no family to turn to, or chose not to accept help from their loved ones. 

And then we listed all the people who would never let Angie be left out in the cold, if she wanted a home. "Even if something happened to Daddy and me, would the Bulos take care of you? Would Grampa Steve take care of you? Gramma Susan and Tom, Bubby and Daddad, Grandma and Grampa Charles, Tia Kiki and Mikey, Uncle Chris and Erin, Beth, Byron, Jeanie, the list went on and on. Each one a reminder of how loved she was, how safe she is now, and how far she's come in a few short years. Each name calming her like a salve soaking right to her soul.

Maybe the most touching part came when I thought she should have been comforted, but she was still a bit unsettled.  

"But what if I don't live near any of them?"  

"Well, why wouldn't you live near them if you needed help?"

"What if I want to go somewhere and help people like you did? Like what if I want to move to Africa where there are lots of poor people."  (cue: heart melt...)

"That would be a good thing to do. You might just have to decide if helping poor people is more important than feeling safe. When I moved to Bolivia, I had to choose to leave all the people who make me feel safe, because I wanted to serve God in a place where I didn't know anyone. So, if something's really important to you, sometimes you have to take a risk..."

She may not be the brightest bookworm in the 6th grade yet, but she wrestles with the big stuff. And she challenges me to keep wrestling with these very real issues; complacency, safety, poverty, serving others, and God's sovereignty in our lives.

In this season of materialism, where homes are cozy and fires are warm, where extravagance is wrapped and waiting under the tree, and security is found in our bank accounts, what is enough? What are the real issues? Who are we overlooking? And what are we risking? 

Keep wrestling, friends.

1 Corinthians 13 from a Dog's Perspective

Our dog is the epitome of loving. She is like Love Incarnate. Could she be one of those angels Hebrews 13:2 speaks of?? Probably not, but I do think she must have overheard one of us reading 1 Corinthians 13 and taken it to heart, 'cause she's nailed it!

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. -1 Cor 13:4-7

Love is patient

I may not be patient myself, but I can recognize it in others. Ruby's a pretty self-sufficient dog, but she's still short an opposable thumb to master those pesky door knobs, hence until we cut a hole in our front entrance and install a doggie door, she needs a little help when she has to do her business. She doesn't often bark, but when she does it's one loud semi-piercing yelp. She's sitting on one side of the door either asking politely to go out or to return back in. She does not pester or yap inconsolably, she just gets her point across without nagging or drawing excessive attention to herself. The part that made me aware of her patience beyond belief, is that she barks once, and if no one comes to free her to relieve herself, she waits. She waits about 5 minutes before she gives one more bark. She recognizes we might be busy and puts our needs above her own, even if it means she might have to cross her legs for awhile. Part of loving is assuming the best instead of assuming the worst about the ones you love, Ruby never jumps to conclusions and accuses us of forgetting her.

Love is kind

If greeting you at the door with a smile, warming your feet when they're chilled, nuzzling you when you're sad, cuddling you when you're lonely, and jumping up and down with you when you're rejoicing, isn't the definition of kind, I'm not sure what is.

It does not envy

I don't know about your dog, but ours eats dog food. The same kibble day in and day out. She's not gonna refuse scraps of your delectable ever-changing diet if you "inadvertently" drop some, but she won't beg for them or pout about it either. She won't covet the other dog's sweater (or lack thereof), nor fuss when she has to leave the park and her friends get to stay. She'll share her toys with you, her yard, her home, even her family.

It is not self-seeking

Even when she's straining a bit at the end of the leash with enthusiasm, I'm sure it's only to encourage you to move faster on the other end and burn more calories. If she takes her time responding to your call she clearly senses the threat of a nearby squirrel and she's securing the premises one last time.

It is not easily angered

Go ahead, try to make her mad. Take away her toy, her food, her bed, her friend... She'll either go back to the beginning and practice her patience or jump ahead and move right to forgiveness. Angry is not in her vocabulary.

It keeps no record of wrongs

We missed Ruby's birthday this year. We thought about it a couple times before the fact, but then on the day of we just plumb forgot. When I remembered a couple days later, I looked at her expecting reproach, resentment, passive aggression, but no, she just looked up at me as if nothing had ever happened. Can you think of another female who would so easily let her birthday slip by without even a mention?! Ruby understands forgiveness. Once she's forgiven you for stepping on her tail or neglecting to feed her on time she recognizes your sadness in the apology and quickly turns her attention back to comforting you.

Always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres

I've mentioned in another post how everyday is the best day of Ruby's life. If you were to, say, pick up her leash inciting a storm of excitement the likes of which you've never seen unless you're a lab owner, and then get distracted, have an emergency pull you away, or just change your mind, it will still be the best day ever even without that walk. If you open the door to invite her to go for a much anticipated car ride, but then just let her sit in the grocery store parking lot instead of running with her at the park, she'll still thank you with wags and kisses. She'll continue to trust you when you pick up the leash no matter how many times you let her down. She'll always hope the destination of every ride in the car is the dog park with a full wading pool, even if you never take her there again. And she'll persevere to the end when it comes to pleasing those she loves, even though it means wearing clothes sometimes...

She's never met a stranger, or anyone with a malady she was afraid to catch. This little guy had Tuberculosis. She's also never met a body of water too dirty, crowded, cold, or off-limits that she didn't need to plunge in.

If your team's short a mascot and you make a sweater in the school colors, she'll not only wear it with pride she'll also protect you from squirrels at most team events.

Look out, if you're on the floor to do sit-ups, sleep, or clean, she'll be right there to lend a helping hand.

If you tell her it's cold outside and she needs to wear a coat, she'll never argue like some of your other children might...

I wouldn't say this was her favorite outfit, but she didn't complain.

She makes by far the best kissy face!

And she can make anyone smile no matter what the season.

"Now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."

-1 Corinthians 13:13

How does your dog set an example of loving kindness in your home?

Our Thanks Giving Tree

Entitlement poisons thankfulness.

A wise friend who works for my favorite homeless shelter reminded me of this last week, but I see it so often at home as well. Living with a tween who's barely off the streets herself, but already expecting to have everything handed to her on a silver platter, proves this time and again.

Fortunately, if entitlement poisons thankfulness, the reverse is also true; gratitude is the antidote for entitlement. This year, we found Ann Voskamp's idea of a Thanks Giving Tree and started fighting that entitlement bug in our home by giving more credit to the Giver of all good gifts.

Each leaf holds a scripture about Thanks on one side, leaving plenty of room on the other to ruminate about specific things you want to appreciate more.

Throughout the month, like most of you, we've been a little more intentional about bringing the positive to the forefront of our minds.

We made leaves for all the obvious things we love so much like our dog Ruby, the Bulos (my parents), and all our wonderful family. "Church" is a simple one that would have made the obvious list for Jon or me, but it was a little more surprising hearing Angie suggest it, as it took us an entire year to get her plugged in, and she'd still rather stay home most Sundays. 

It was also music to our ears to hear her share such ideas as being able to talk to a God who hears us, and that we're part of the Kingdom of God.

Angie's very first leaf said that she's thankful to have a family now who doesn't hit her. If it would have fit on the paper she would have added that she wishes every kid could have a family who is nice to them. That girl has a heart of gold sometimes.

As this is my first Thanksgiving in four years in the States, I'm so thankful for food. God could have created manna to provide all our nutritional needs, but instead He gave us turkey, potatoes, pie, and ice cream, because He loves us that much.

I so appreciate cold weather and snow, with the contrasting warmth of slippers, a fireplace, and blankets.

I'm grateful for our little Angelica. Even though she doesn't always fit her Angel namesake, she holds a grudge more loosely than her momma, and she's willing to overlook my shortcomings faster than I see past her flaws. She may not act like the sweet cherubic "Angels" we hear so much about this season, but she brings me closer to Christ, in both the sweet moments and the trying ones, so what more could I ask for.

I praise God for my main man, who not only puts up with my crazy-passionate, justice-seeking side, my task-oriented, go-getter attitude, and all my other differences, but he embraces them. He balances me, complements me, and tempers me. I couldn't have chosen a better match to do life with.

I recognize, and love, that they are both quick to forgive me and show me so much grace.

And while we're fighting entitlement, my guys at Jefferson Street shelter help me with that regularly. This year, we enjoyed our Thanks Giving Tree so much that we decided to share them with our friends downtown for their Thanksgiving meal. 

 I pray that today, as they're struggling to stay warm and dry outside, that the scripture on the leaf they took with them from dinner last night reminds them to give thanks in all circumstances, and helps them focus on the positive with us. No matter how bleak our situation, when we set our mind on things above and give thanks for the abundance Christ lavishes on us all, the outlook gets a little brighter and His love starts to seep out of our pores like the aromas of a Thanksgiving meal baking in the kitchen...

"Enter His gates with thanksgiving; go into His courts with praise.

    Give thanks to Him and praise His name." -Psalm 100:4

5 Things That Would Make the World a Better Place

Have you all noticed that every article these days is a list?! 10 Things Every Woman Should Know, or 7 Ways to Be the Best Husband, or 27 Tips that Will Change Your Life Forever. Not only is the "list" phenomenon taking over my news feed, but the titles are always grandiose statements claiming impossible feats. 

Well you know me, I can't miss out on a trend. Wait, no, that must be someone else. But I do have quite a few bloggable ideas swimming around in my head, and none are alone worthy of a post, so I thought I'd try jumping on this bandwagon. I'm going a little rogue though, in that I don't actually have a theme for my top five list, so I'm pulling them all together with my very opinionated over the top title. 

Here's what God's been showing me lately.

1.You get to choose your attitude.  
Your reaction, your response, even your emotion are all in your power.

I tell Angie she doesn't have to be a perfectionist, she doesn't have to be lazy. She thinks these words are spoken into being, without an antidote. What's done is done. When we've called her a perfectionist or lazy, she assumed it was like us telling her she has black hair or brown skin, it is written. So, now I have to use my words to undo what my other words have done. "You can choose not to be lazy, you can choose to get out of bed before my fifth wake up call." 

I want her to stop repeating that she's lazy and keep telling me "I'm a Cookie Smart," like she did yesterday when she figured something out on her own. She quickly realized she meant "Smart Cookie" but it was priceless to hear her repeat my positive words instead of my negativity.

I need to speak words into myself as well. My short temper is not inborn like my hazel eyes. My low frustration threshold is not an excuse. Instead of telling my husband that's just the way I am, and expecting him to adjust accordingly, I can change.

Someone in our small group last night said she'd heard, "We choose to stress." 

Hmmmmm....

Yesterday, between the hours of 3:00pm and 8:00pm I had 4 hours of homework to walk Angie through, a Grand Opening at Jefferson Street Baptist Center (my favorite homeless hangout), Ange's basketball practice, dinner to cook for my family, dinner to prepare and take to the neighbors who have a new baby, and our young married couples' small group to attend. 

If stress is defined as "pressure or tension exerted on a material object" then I don't think I created that tension, I think it was exerted on me as I was pulled in 17 directions. 

The second definition, however, is "a state of mental or emotional strain or tension resulting from adverse or very demanding circumstances." The ensuing headache also seemed outside of my control, but my reaction and my emotions were within my power. I could have made better choices about my tone of voice, my patience, my priorities, and avoided apologizing to Angie and Jon later.

Take your thoughts captive. Breathe deep. Then choose a mantra or say a breath prayer: 

Refuse to Worry

Give Thanks Not Anger

Love Casts Out Fear

Inhale-Jesus, Exhale-Grace

What are some of yours?

2. You can only think one thought at a time.
Replace your negative thoughts.

Pink Elephant. Try to stop thinking about a pink elephant. Go. 

Red Dog. If you successfully stopped thinking about pink elephants it's because you replaced the image with something else, a red dog perhaps, or something of your own volition if you recognized the need to focus on an alternative.  

Why don't we do this with our emotions as well?

Ann Voskamp says, "You can only have one emotion at a time." You can't feel anger and gratitude at once. You choose. It seems like a pretty clear choice if you put it that way, doesn't it? There may be five things to be upset about at this moment, but I guarantee you have 100 things to be grateful for. Maybe you have a whole pile of things to worry about, to-do lists to stress over, real dangers to fear, but what if you took inventory of gifts to thank God for... Could the second list be longer? Could you focus more energy on that list than the first?

What's stealing your joy? Grief, guilt, rage, anxiety, fear?

Take it back. Choose joy. Choose peace. Choose love, thanksgiving, good. Meditate on the fruit of the Spirit. Store up these things in your heart.

3. It does no good to choose your path, if your heart's not in it.

Submission. 

I mentioned in my last post my snide remarks and sarcasm about this interminable hunting season. Somehow I think I thought I was respecting my husband by not throwing down ultimatums about his hobby. I doubt there's a book out there on respecting your man that recommends under-your-breath remarks as a way to bolster his ego. Do you ever hear the words coming out of your mouth as if you're another person? If only I could get that outside perspective--hear the lasting reverberations of my statements--before they're spoken. Then maybe I'd make better choices. 

Jon wants to go to Florida for Thanksgiving to see some of his family. I'm not entirely sure 28 hours in the car with the child asking if we're there yet, is going to put me in a thankful mood. But he spends loads of time with my family so I haven't put up a huge fuss about the idea. Last night, I was talking to someone on the phone about how I'm going to miss the Jefferson Street Baptist Center Thanksgiving meal 'cause we'll be on the road to FL, and I threw in some half-sardonic explanation about submission. Again I heard myself too late. Submission's probably kinda like humility, if you're telling people you've got it down, maybe you don't.

That's not to say I'm ready to filter all of my commentary or completely curtail my snarkiness, but I'm about ready to quit kidding myself that I'm truly submitting or being respectful. Seems like I'm on the right track at least.

4. No one controls you, but you.
He didn't make you mad. She didn't stress you out.  

If you're a parent, you've learned/are learning that you don't control your kids. So, why don't we carry that thought into our adult lives and realize others don't control us. Our circumstances don't control us.

From an 11 year-old the logic seems so clearly flawed, "Mom, why do you keep making me angry?!" "I couldn't help it, she made me mess up." "He distracted me." 

As grown-ups we're no better. We constantly blame our situation and our surroundings. "That made me upset." "Why did you make me do that?" "If you hadn't done that I wouldn't have..." "I don't want to yell all the time, but when you don't listen..." No wonder our kids do it. Until we're accountable for our actions, why would they be?

It's about time we take back control of our lives. Responsibility for our attitudes. Rein in our hearts. Make healthy choices.

And while we're at it, how 'bout we take charge of our wardrobes...

5. Yoga Pants are for yoga. 

(I just had to throw this one in there, because it really might make the world a better place)

If they were for the airport, they'd be called Airport Pants. But they're not. They're not Grocery Store Pants, or Shopping Mall Pants, definitely not Church-Going Pants, or even Coffee Shop Pants. If you're not on your way to the yoga studio, or actually on the mat, cover up your bum! Yeah, you're butt looks good, that's the point, my husband doesn't want to see that, and if you're married, I'm hoping you're husband doesn't want my husband to see that either. Come on ladies let's look out for one another here. 

This Thanksgiving replace your spandex with denim and we'll all be grateful. 

But seriously friends, "Always be joyful. Never stop praying. Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus." -1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

-Thoughts inspired by Jimmy Evans, Ann Voskamp, Danny Silk, Dave Stone, and Jesus Christ

-If this post sounds like it wasn't written for you, you're right, I'm the one who needed to write it, to process it, and to live it.