Dear Good Christian Girl, You Are Believing a Lie

When did you give your heart to Jesus? That's what they say, right? That's how they ask it. 

Well, me, I was four. 

That's what I am told, anyway. 

Four years old, in my best friend's driveway, I told my mom that I wanted to give my heart to Jesus. And so I did. I prayed that prayer-- I don't remember quite how it goes now. 

I have a four year old. 

I'm pretty sure she thinks God looks like Santa and sometimes she tells me that Jesus is in her belly and will come out like a baby at some point, maybe not today because today she is having triplets, but maybe tomorrow.

Are you catching my drift? 

I grew up in church-- many different kinds. I went to a Christian school through 8th grade. I didn't drink until I was 21 (almost), no sex before marriage, I didn't commit any crimes, I didn't do drugs, I moved away from home, went to college and eventually I got married and started to have kids. 

I didn't fall away. I never backslid. 

Good Christian Girl, that's me. 

She may be you, too. 

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This past Sunday at church, we heard the testimony of a man who led a life nothing like mine. He led a life that was (in his words) "filled with fear." He spoke of the power of the Holy Spirit and Jesus' sacrifice with such conviction. 

He had an experience with God that was undeniable. 

I never had that.

Good Christian Girl, you are living a lie. 

Good Christian Girl, you believe because there is no obvious climax in your testimony (do you even have a testimony???) that you are sentenced to a life of mediocrity. 

Think about that. Jesus spits out the lukewarm.

Fire-y christians are the ones with the story. Fire-y christians have a testimony that brings people to tears. 

I admit that I have been guilty of amping up parts of my walk with God to seem like there was a huge turning point. Otherwise, the seemingly small God details of my life could be written off as coincidences.

Christians who believe that coincidences are God-orchestrated events are foolish. 

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Sitting in church on Sunday, I felt a (gentle) punch in my gut. 

"Your life is no coincidence. When did you become so wise?

Those small moments, those small prayers, the moment in the car when you were four--- 

every time you write them off as coincidences, as foolishness, you fall deeper and deeper into the pit of mediocrity. 

You push away from me, you don't give me the honor. 

Your life is FILLED with God moments, but to you they are foolishness.

I love you. 

I want you to see me there, with you, the whole time. Holding you. You are my daughter. 

Recognize me."

Dear Good Christian Girl,

 

“I know all the things you do, and that you have a reputation for being alive—but you are dead. 2Wake up! Strengthen what little remains, for even what is left is almost dead. I find that your actions do not meet the requirements of my God.3Go back to what you heard and believed at first; hold to it firmly. Repent and turn to me again..." Rev 3:1-3

I may not remember the prayer I prayed when I was four, but He does. It may seem foolish to believe a four year old could commit to God-- and maybe she can't. But He can commit to her and 

Good Christian Girl, He has. 

Recognize Him.

A Quick Thought

"Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."

--Jesus

If he says to become like them...


Why are we always trying to make them become more like us?

What is my objective?

This may seem elementary; most everything does after the "light bulb" moment.

But THIS, my friends, seems too easy-- like everyone probably already knows about this incredible mind shift except for me.

So, your welcome, for the reminder-- and maybe the giggle at my expense.

It's late. Bedtime has taken much longer than I expected once again. Every day, I say that we will start bedtime a half hour earlier to make room for the silliness, stalling and inevitable poop that needs to happen as soon as she is covered up. It never happens. We always start too late and so there I am, standing there, stressed, irritated, TIRED.

 I feel like Dr. Leo Martin vs. Bob Wiley. 

Holy smokes. YES. That's exactly how I feel at the end of the day.

 It's just too much. And I hate it. I despise myself in that moment. I have these out of body experiences where I hear what I am saying and see the tension in me and I feel so sad (and pretty pathetic too).

I just want to shake myself!

But in that gross, disgusting moment, when I was watching myself, THAT'S when it hit me. 

Thanks to my Bachelors of Fine Arts... (finally)

 I was watching the scene and I felt the tug. The gentle question -- as my teachers in school asked me so often: 

What's your objective?

BED. Bed is my objective. Cover her up-- no wait, give her a sip of water so that she doesn't get uncovered to get a sip of water. Give her a sip of water, cover her up, move her hair our of her face, give her a kiss and GET THE F OUT! That's my objective! 

Right then, I became present. She was laying down now. She was asking me if I could pray for her-- she was asking me to tell her about what we would do the next day and wanting to help make a plan for the morning. She just wanted to play-- and interact and talk-- and me? 

Moments before, I could hardly keep my head from exploding. 

Instead of standing over her, holding her blanket, forcing myself to breathe deeply, I knelt down and  I asked myself again: What's my objective?  

Connect. My objective has to be to connect. 

My posture seemed to relax and in turn, so did hers. My voice became soothing instead of sharp and threatening-- she became quieter. We discussed some concerns of the night-- feeling hot/cold, needing a bandaid etc. and we smiled about what tomorrow would bring.

I still wanted her in bed (desperately) but when I focused on engaging her, my crazy little beauty, I didn't feel pathetic anymore-- or sad. I felt strong and capable of being the mom I know I can be. 

When I stop with my external objectives and put the focus on the relationships around me-- the atmosphere actually changes.

Harmony happens. Peace. Unforced rhythms of grace.

And bedtime becomes a heck of a lot easier! 

Get me off this thing called... Love

Ha! Sorry, I had to do it.
"So, I Married An Axe Murderer" is one of my all time favorite movies and I just couldn't resist entitling this blog post with a quote from that movie.

I just wish somehow I could add in the little hand gesture. Make sure you do it every time you read the title to this blog post.

Ready? Let's try it together.

"Get me off this thing called....(hand gesture) Love."

(And if you have no idea what the heck I am talking about, do yourself a favor and get that movie!)

So this thing... love. The basis of all relationships and interactions. The one (pure, true) thing that keeps us connected...

 is so dang hard to figure out.

I've been silent for awhile because the ONE thing that keeps popping in my head to blog about is the one thing that confuses me the most. And it's the thing that keeps us going.

It's vital.

Love connects partners. It connects families, friends, siblings... it connects us to movements, to passions, to missions... we see it in nature, in our pets... it is what moves us closer to our Creator.

It is what our Creator IS.

The absence of love brings turmoil, anger, hate, disconnect, confusion. Dark.

But, let's define love for a moment... because I'm not talking about Valentine's day, people!

What I am talking about is respect.

I am talking about a love that works for the greater good of humanity. A love that sees all people, all beings, all the world in the light of the Kingdom: as it should be. I am talking about freedom, choice... about valuing the needs of others around us in the same way we value our own.

Here's an idea, scroll through Facebook for a second, you'll find many people highlighting the need for choice, for freedom, for respect. Many people are raising funds for wonderful causes, advertising their passions and gushing over some of the small glimpses of "hope in humanity."

Love is much bigger than just my marriage, your marriage. It's bigger than just the way we choose to raise our children, the way we cultivate our relationships with our parents and siblings.

But is it?

We all seem to have a deep "want" to see humans live in harmony with each other but our marriages are falling apart. Christians all seem to want the love of Jesus to be spread far and wide, but do their children feel it? We want to accomplish great things, but have we accomplished the seemingly small things?

As I trip and fall and trip and fall down this parenting path, the one thing that remains true is that change starts with me. But not just me, me and them. Me and you.

Did I love them well? Have I loved you well?

That needs to be my question after an argument with my husband, after my daughter takes a crayon to the wall, after I get home from an interview and after a phone call from my brother.

Did I love them well?

No wait, did THEY feel that I loved them well?

THAT'S the thing folks. We can't gauge our own love goodness! 

I guess that's what I have been trying to do forever now. Let me explain.

So, there are these 5 love languages. They are outlined in some popular book. You can even take a test to see what your top two are.

Bah! Love languages!

If you are anything like me, you think this love language stuff is downright discouraging. You immediately think about how you and your husband have completely different love languages and how it's is a daily struggle, I mean, task, ahem, privilege, to learn the ways each other needs to be loved to bring the relationship to new and deeper heights with every successful, loving and selfless interaction.

Honestly, that love language book... makes me gag.

I don't know, I get it, I just don't know if I buy into it... completely anyway. Shouldn't adults be able to show love and receive love in all different ways? Isn't love some sort of universal language? 

Why, then, when I write sweet notes in a journal for my husband he hardly ever writes back?!

Love letters are love letters, surely he can feel the love through them!

Yet, he complains when hugs are cut short, or a busy family day passes by and he doesn't feel as if we've had quality time. Didn't we just spend the whole freaking day together?!

Obviously, I am missing something.

And per usual God speaks to me through my children.

I've noticed in the past, our daughter physically cringing when people (ourselves included) ask for kisses. God forbid, someone try to give her one! She will spit on her hand and wipe it off in one seemingly rude swipe.

This kills her dad. He loves to "smooch her face" and incessantly asks for kisses.

I, on the other hand, totally get it. The only difference is, I wait until people aren't looking before I wipe off the lingering spit and feeling.

At first, I was horrified. Kids learn by example right?! I've tried so hard to suck it up and not let my kids see how uncomfortable I get when people are physically affectionate towards me and I most certainly try never to avoid a kiss from their dad even if he has fallen short (like I never do!) in some spouse-ly duty.

So I just couldn't figure out HOW Judah learned to not like kisses then? 

She not only refuses offers, but she wipes off blind sides too!

Then I realized something: Judah may not like to be hugged, or kissed, and her idea of snuggling is laying next to someone with absolutely no touching involved at all, but she tells us she loves us 1200 times a day. She encourages us when she sees that we are struggling and she compliments our hard work. She thanks us for dinners cooked, outings, help... anything!

While out to lunch one day with her grandparents, one who is particularly affectionate (even though it is usually not reciprocated), said to her "Judah, I saw the painting that you are working on and I think it's beautiful! You have done some great work!"

Do you know what she did? That little stinker! She turned around and gave the biggest kiss ever! 

She felt love, so she returned the love. 

And kids, man, there's so much to learn from them... she didn't return the love with a thank you or another compliment or encouraging word. She didn't return the love with a gift of some sort. She met that person in a way that THEY would feel loved. 

She KISSED them. The very thing that she detests! 

THAT'S a relationship -- becoming in tune with the people around us--the needs of the people around us. We can work and work and work until the cows come home (is that a thing?) on bettering ourselves and becoming the person that WE want to be but until we can become the person that THEY need us to be our relationships can not fully bloom, our relationships can't be the examples that we hope they would be.

That this world desperately needs them to be. 

So yeah, change starts with me. But it starts with me, thinking about you.