For those of you who haven't been following, I started a short series of blogs on a book I'm reading called Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light. It's a compilation of the private letters of Mother Teresa, strung together to tell the story of her life. I'm blogging about the book because, frankly, I forget good stuff a lot. You know that phrase "in one ear and out the other"? I'm pretty sure the person who coined it did so after having a conversation with me.
One thing that really struck me about Mother Teresa is her committment to enjoy the moment that she was in, wherever or whenever it was. When she committed her life to God, she knew that doing what He asked of her would often require suffering. At the point of her calling, before God showed her what she would be doing among the poorest of the poor, she didn't know to what exent that would come true. Yet, she approached the tasks in front of her, even the most mundane, with such a joy, a cheerfulness. Her joy, according to the author, was the result of the "blessedness of submission;" the fruit of giving to Jesus whatever He asked of her.
She said, "When I see someone sad, I always think, she is refusing something to Jesus."
Wow. A few weeks ago in a conversation with my friend Justin, we were speaking about how ridiculously difficult it was to say and MEAN one of the most important phrases I believe we can every pray: I trust Your leadership, Jesus. (You can read his blog about it here.) Thinking about a life lived in complete submission, complete trust of Jesus, challenges me, especially in light of the statement above by Mama T. A life lived submitted to Jesus and His plan for my life means that no matter WHAT happens, good or bad, devastating or encouraging, I know that He called me, He chose me, He's for me, He knows me, He loves me, and will work all things for my good (Romans 8). So why shouldn't I be cheerful, even in the drudgeries of life? Why should I sink into despair or hopelessness?
I've heard preachers say that you can have the joy of the Lord without feeling or looking happy. But if you really have His joy, if you know you're His, if you're confident in His leadership in Your life, why not show it on your face through a smile? Why not let your eyes light up with the knowledge of His goodness? Why look sour, dour, or depressed? Why can't I enjoy and take delight in even the things that I'd rather not do, like washing dishes or mopping the floor? I'm following Jesus. I've followed him to this exact place in my life, this very spot, this very geographical location and position. If I trust His leadership, then I trust that this is where He WANTS me to be. He wants me to wash these dishes! Why can't I delight in doing His will and enjoying where He has me, even in the small things? And for gooodness sakes, why can't I SMILE about it?
"Well this isn't how I thought things would turn out," you say. "If I had more money, more friends, more time, more education, more _______ (fill in the blank) I'd be happier."
You know, I'm not so sure about that. I believe that right where you and I are this very moment, whether penniless, broken, hurt, lonely, unfulfilled, or whatever trial we're experiencing, there is a level of joy that we can experience in even the worst of times. There is a level of content, a level of trust in Jesus that will bring cheerfulness to that situation. Choosing to be cheerful in the face of the mundane, in the face of unfulfilled dreams and disatisfaction is a form of worship. Mother Teresa said:
Cbeerfulness is a sign of a generous and mortified person who forgetting all things, even herself, tries to please God in all she does for souls. Cheerfulness is often a cloak which hides a life of sacrifice, continual union with God, fervor, and generosity. A person who has this gift of cheerfulness very often reaches a great height of perfection. For God loves a cheerful giver...
A challenge for myself this week is to be cheerful and to enjoy each moment I live, no matter the circumstance. I'd love for the Lord to look at me this week, smiling through both the mundane and exciting moments of life, and be blessed by my cheerfulness. And when I'm faced with sadness or despair, I want to ask myself, "What might I be refusing to Jesus, and how can I submit to Him today in a greater way?"
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Lessons From Mama T, Part 1
I was the kid who went to the library, checked out 10-15 novels, and had them all read by the time the two week due date came around. I was the kid who brought books to the park, read them at recess, and actually enjoyed Sustained Silent Reading time in school. But then I discovered a little something we like to call Cable Television. And lo, it was good. And then another little invention exploded called the Internet. And yea, it was also good. Somehow between these two discoveries, and simultaneously being completely burned out from reading countless books for my college degree, my attention span was diminished and I found myself unable to finish a book from cover to cover.
Long story short, of late, I find myself getting stupider. So, in an effort to combat that, and after being inspired by a friend who has an insatiable appetite for reading, I have begun reading again. (This decision was precluded by a decision to turn off the TV for a few days. Honestly, when it comes to choosing between watching The Real Housewives of Anywhere versus reading a book, I will always choose those Housewives. Know thyself.)
The book I've chosen to read is called Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light. It is a narrative of her life, told specifically through her private writings (letters mostly). The reason I chose this book was, first of all, Mother Teresa has always been an interesting individual to me. Second, I know she devoted her life to the service of others, and since I'm taking my church's Love-Serve-Live Challenge (21 days where we devote a week each to Loving God, Serving Others, and Living Big), I felt it would be beneficial for me to study the life of a person who had run the race well, so to speak. Serving Others is probably my weakest area (well, honestly they're all very weak); I struggle especially when it comes to loving people as they are. Most people, in all their inpredictability and imperfection, are hard to love. And I don't like to do hard things.
As I read the book, I am planning on posting some brief blogs about some things that impact me regarding her life. That way, you don't have to read the book to get the "good stuff." So here goes...
--------------------------------
Mother Teresa was Albanian of birth. Although she felt the call of God at twelve years of age to be a missionary, it took her six years to make a full decision to become a nun. At 18, she embraced this calling and set sail for India. Her missionary work in Bengal consisted mostly of teaching in a school run by the nuns for children in the area, although the children they served were not the "poorest of the poor" that she would eventually feel led to minister to.
I am uneducated in the ways of Catholicism, so until reading this first chapter, I didn't understand why a woman would want to become a nun, other than she felt called to ministry and this was perhaps the only outlet for women to serve God in a full-time capacity within the Catholic Church. However, I feel more enlightened after reading this chapter as to why Mother Teresa would decide to become a nun. Apparently, the final taking of vows is similar to a marriage ceremony between the woman and Jesus - she vows her life to him, promising poverty, chastity, and obedience. That a woman would feel so in love with Jesus that she would lay down all the comforts of life - wealth, earthly companionship, the possiblity of bearing children, privacy, independence - to follow Him and live for Him is quite beautiful. Mother Teresa referred to herself in letters as "Jesus' little spouse." There's something so sweet and quaint, so unusually bright, about that phrase.
Another thing that gripped me about Mother Teresa's start in ministry is her motivation. A friend and fellow sister wrote to her superior saying:
I think that Jesus loves Sister Teresa very much. We are in the same house. I notice that every day she tries to please Jesus in everything. She is very busy, but she does not spare herself. She is very humble. It cost her dearly to achieve that, but I think that God has chosen her for great things. Admittedly, her deeds are entirely simple, but the perfection with which she does them, is just what Jesus asks of us.
She tried to please Jesus in everything. This thought has challenged me ALL day today, this Easter Sunday. I frequently sacrifice pleasing Jesus in my speech, my thoughts, my selfish actions, the way that I direct my day... I'll often forgo pleasing him for the immediate satisfaction of making someone laugh with sarcastic words or biting comments... Reading this has made me wonder, how much of a priority to me is pleasing Jesus? Maybe if I just simplified my life, paring away all the unnecessaries (ahem, Housewives shows), and started from square one with the question of "Does this please Jesus?" before every action, I might be able to attain a similar communion with God...
Even more interesting is that, before she had a world-renowned ministry, before she fulfilled her calling as a missionary to the poorest of the poor, she had mastered herself. She had a true, tested, purified relationship with Jesus before she had any public ministry. This is not to say that she had attained perfection - reading further about her life testifies against that. Yet her first priority was to please God, and to do everything "for Jesus, and for souls."
I've spent a lot of time asking myself, "Does this please Jesus?" today. I've backtracked a lot, too, after words have been said, attitudes have been displayed, and actions portrayed, thinking, "What I just did definitely did not please Jesus." I'm challenging myself to ask if it would please Jesus BEFORE I do an action or say a word.
This is so simple, yet SO hard. I live a life mostly devoted to pleasing Cassie, not Jesus. Sure, there are shining moments, isolated incidents when Jesus is pleased. But I'm sad to say that mostly, I live for my personal comfort and the conservation of my pride. Yet, this must go if Jesus is to be pleased.
A verse that was read at our Good Friday service is haunting me...
What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ (Phil 3:8)
Everything is rubbish compared to the richness of knowing Jesus, of living with Him daily, of having unbroken fellowship with Him. Everything that's not like Him MUST go. There's no room for anything that doesn't please Him.
Long story short, of late, I find myself getting stupider. So, in an effort to combat that, and after being inspired by a friend who has an insatiable appetite for reading, I have begun reading again. (This decision was precluded by a decision to turn off the TV for a few days. Honestly, when it comes to choosing between watching The Real Housewives of Anywhere versus reading a book, I will always choose those Housewives. Know thyself.)
The book I've chosen to read is called Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light. It is a narrative of her life, told specifically through her private writings (letters mostly). The reason I chose this book was, first of all, Mother Teresa has always been an interesting individual to me. Second, I know she devoted her life to the service of others, and since I'm taking my church's Love-Serve-Live Challenge (21 days where we devote a week each to Loving God, Serving Others, and Living Big), I felt it would be beneficial for me to study the life of a person who had run the race well, so to speak. Serving Others is probably my weakest area (well, honestly they're all very weak); I struggle especially when it comes to loving people as they are. Most people, in all their inpredictability and imperfection, are hard to love. And I don't like to do hard things.
As I read the book, I am planning on posting some brief blogs about some things that impact me regarding her life. That way, you don't have to read the book to get the "good stuff." So here goes...
--------------------------------
Mother Teresa was Albanian of birth. Although she felt the call of God at twelve years of age to be a missionary, it took her six years to make a full decision to become a nun. At 18, she embraced this calling and set sail for India. Her missionary work in Bengal consisted mostly of teaching in a school run by the nuns for children in the area, although the children they served were not the "poorest of the poor" that she would eventually feel led to minister to.
I am uneducated in the ways of Catholicism, so until reading this first chapter, I didn't understand why a woman would want to become a nun, other than she felt called to ministry and this was perhaps the only outlet for women to serve God in a full-time capacity within the Catholic Church. However, I feel more enlightened after reading this chapter as to why Mother Teresa would decide to become a nun. Apparently, the final taking of vows is similar to a marriage ceremony between the woman and Jesus - she vows her life to him, promising poverty, chastity, and obedience. That a woman would feel so in love with Jesus that she would lay down all the comforts of life - wealth, earthly companionship, the possiblity of bearing children, privacy, independence - to follow Him and live for Him is quite beautiful. Mother Teresa referred to herself in letters as "Jesus' little spouse." There's something so sweet and quaint, so unusually bright, about that phrase.
Another thing that gripped me about Mother Teresa's start in ministry is her motivation. A friend and fellow sister wrote to her superior saying:
I think that Jesus loves Sister Teresa very much. We are in the same house. I notice that every day she tries to please Jesus in everything. She is very busy, but she does not spare herself. She is very humble. It cost her dearly to achieve that, but I think that God has chosen her for great things. Admittedly, her deeds are entirely simple, but the perfection with which she does them, is just what Jesus asks of us.
She tried to please Jesus in everything. This thought has challenged me ALL day today, this Easter Sunday. I frequently sacrifice pleasing Jesus in my speech, my thoughts, my selfish actions, the way that I direct my day... I'll often forgo pleasing him for the immediate satisfaction of making someone laugh with sarcastic words or biting comments... Reading this has made me wonder, how much of a priority to me is pleasing Jesus? Maybe if I just simplified my life, paring away all the unnecessaries (ahem, Housewives shows), and started from square one with the question of "Does this please Jesus?" before every action, I might be able to attain a similar communion with God...
Even more interesting is that, before she had a world-renowned ministry, before she fulfilled her calling as a missionary to the poorest of the poor, she had mastered herself. She had a true, tested, purified relationship with Jesus before she had any public ministry. This is not to say that she had attained perfection - reading further about her life testifies against that. Yet her first priority was to please God, and to do everything "for Jesus, and for souls."
I've spent a lot of time asking myself, "Does this please Jesus?" today. I've backtracked a lot, too, after words have been said, attitudes have been displayed, and actions portrayed, thinking, "What I just did definitely did not please Jesus." I'm challenging myself to ask if it would please Jesus BEFORE I do an action or say a word.
This is so simple, yet SO hard. I live a life mostly devoted to pleasing Cassie, not Jesus. Sure, there are shining moments, isolated incidents when Jesus is pleased. But I'm sad to say that mostly, I live for my personal comfort and the conservation of my pride. Yet, this must go if Jesus is to be pleased.
A verse that was read at our Good Friday service is haunting me...
What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ (Phil 3:8)
Everything is rubbish compared to the richness of knowing Jesus, of living with Him daily, of having unbroken fellowship with Him. Everything that's not like Him MUST go. There's no room for anything that doesn't please Him.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Owl City
So, my cousin Julie was in from Indiana last week to watch Jill and I run our 5K, and we took a little girl's day to have lunch and go to Ross. Ross, if you're not familiar, is sort of like a big, indoor garage sale... a step down from Marshalls or TJ Maxx, full of uber-cheap but new stuff. It's pretty great for a quick fix if you want to buy a shirt that will give you the immediate exhilaration of wearing something new, even if the quality is debatable.
At any rate, I was scouring the clearance home items and I found a silver owl statue. I thought for about 5 seconds of buying it, and then decided to pass. When I mentioned the owl to Jill and then showed her,she was so excited, because it just happened that she was looking for an owl to complete the look of her newly decorated (and super cute) playroom.
At some point in the shopping trip, she handed the owl off to me so that she could use the restroom. Julie and I were in the shoe aisle when the owl slipped out of my overburdened arms and crashed to the ground, breaking the ear off of the owl:
As you can see here, I was filled with immense fear over telling Jill what I had done to her owl. Here is her response (note how I try to blame the baby):
At any rate, I was scouring the clearance home items and I found a silver owl statue. I thought for about 5 seconds of buying it, and then decided to pass. When I mentioned the owl to Jill and then showed her,she was so excited, because it just happened that she was looking for an owl to complete the look of her newly decorated (and super cute) playroom.
At some point in the shopping trip, she handed the owl off to me so that she could use the restroom. Julie and I were in the shoe aisle when the owl slipped out of my overburdened arms and crashed to the ground, breaking the ear off of the owl:
As you can see here, I was filled with immense fear over telling Jill what I had done to her owl. Here is her response (note how I try to blame the baby):
Monday, March 1, 2010
Altars
I'm a very private person, and although I love hearing the secrets of others and feel no more loved than when a friend decides to confide in me her struggles or fears, I seldom share my own. That's why I've always been a journaler. Ever since I learned to write, I've been jotting down my thoughts in various notebooks. Unfortunately, most of the writing has been done in times of crisis, in times of pain, in times when I had no where else to turn except my marbled, worn composition book. Therefore, when I go back to read my past journals, my life seems to be filled with tragic, depressing events, thoughts or feelings. I seldom write when good things happen - I'm more of a devastation-journaler. Yes, writing is a great outlet for yucky feelings, but these journals are my legacy. I fear my great-grandchildren finding them long after I'm dead and thinking, "Wow, Great-Grandma Cassie was nutso. And her life pretty much sucked." Especially when I know that it's not true, and that the glorious, God-kissed moments of my life far outnumber those that turn me upside down.
At the end of 2009, I decided I was tired of writing this way, from tragedy to tragedy, from pain to pain, from valley to valley. I was reading a book called "Wild Goose Chase" by Mark Batterson (I HIGHLY recommend this book to anyone who feels a little stuck or bored in their walk with God. It will pretty much knock your socks off). In this book, Batterson talks about how in the Old Testament, God's followers built altars when He did something miraculous or something that they wanted to remember. When we started our Bible reading plan at the beginning of this year, I began to underline in Genesis every time it said that God's people built altars. They did it ALL the time!
Batterson says:
We have a natural tendency to remember what we should forget and forget what we should remember. Altars help us remember what God doesn't want us to forget. They give us a sacred place to go back to... We need altars that renew our faith by reminding us of the faithfulness of God. And every once in awhile, we need to go back to those sacred places to repent of our sin, renew our covenant with God, and celebrate what God has done.
I decided that in 2010, instead of journaling my drama, I would switch out my journal for a notebook I've simply named "Altars." In this notebook, I'm recording all of the landmark moments that I experience as I live this year out. Little things, such as moments of God's favor in safe travels or unexpected money coming my way. Big moments like today, when 16 couples got married at church and I was honored to participate in the planning of the event. Moments of thankfulness for the kindness of God in my life.
Don't get me wrong, there have been times in the first two months of this year that I've wanted to just verbally vomit all over the pages of a notebook, spilling my guts with pen and ink. It's been challenging to remember to record the good things... I almost have to force myself, as if it was a chore, to make record of the things God has done. But I know that it will be worth it when, the next time that I feel like I'm in a rough situation, or struggling emotionally, I can open my Altars book and read about the faithfulness of God over and over and over in my life.
Just wanted to share something new and different that I'm doing this year, and encourage you to do the same! An altar doesn't have to be written - it can be a picture of a victorious moment, a momento of an event... It can be anything that takes you back to those times when God has come through for you; anything that reminds you that he did it once, and can certainly (and WILL certainly) do it again.
At the end of 2009, I decided I was tired of writing this way, from tragedy to tragedy, from pain to pain, from valley to valley. I was reading a book called "Wild Goose Chase" by Mark Batterson (I HIGHLY recommend this book to anyone who feels a little stuck or bored in their walk with God. It will pretty much knock your socks off). In this book, Batterson talks about how in the Old Testament, God's followers built altars when He did something miraculous or something that they wanted to remember. When we started our Bible reading plan at the beginning of this year, I began to underline in Genesis every time it said that God's people built altars. They did it ALL the time!
Batterson says:
We have a natural tendency to remember what we should forget and forget what we should remember. Altars help us remember what God doesn't want us to forget. They give us a sacred place to go back to... We need altars that renew our faith by reminding us of the faithfulness of God. And every once in awhile, we need to go back to those sacred places to repent of our sin, renew our covenant with God, and celebrate what God has done.
I decided that in 2010, instead of journaling my drama, I would switch out my journal for a notebook I've simply named "Altars." In this notebook, I'm recording all of the landmark moments that I experience as I live this year out. Little things, such as moments of God's favor in safe travels or unexpected money coming my way. Big moments like today, when 16 couples got married at church and I was honored to participate in the planning of the event. Moments of thankfulness for the kindness of God in my life.
Don't get me wrong, there have been times in the first two months of this year that I've wanted to just verbally vomit all over the pages of a notebook, spilling my guts with pen and ink. It's been challenging to remember to record the good things... I almost have to force myself, as if it was a chore, to make record of the things God has done. But I know that it will be worth it when, the next time that I feel like I'm in a rough situation, or struggling emotionally, I can open my Altars book and read about the faithfulness of God over and over and over in my life.
Just wanted to share something new and different that I'm doing this year, and encourage you to do the same! An altar doesn't have to be written - it can be a picture of a victorious moment, a momento of an event... It can be anything that takes you back to those times when God has come through for you; anything that reminds you that he did it once, and can certainly (and WILL certainly) do it again.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
The Fat Kid in Gym Class
For about the past 9 weeks, my cousin and I have been training for a 5K. Those of you who know me personally or follow me on Facebook or Twitter are probably pretty sick of hearing about it by now, and for that I'm sorry. It's just that talking about it a lot makes me accountable to, well, the world, because if I back out I have to announce to everyone that I didn't do it.
You see, I was (and still am) always the fat kid in gym class. As a kid, I never showed much interest in organized sports or outdoor activities. I was more of the nerdy book-reader type. So I never learned how to challenge my body, how to push myself physically, how to go beyond what I felt was possible for my body to accomplish. When I hit middle school and gym became compulsory, when "dressing out" became a curse word in my vocabulary, this was a conundrum for me. Here I was, straight A student, getting C's in gym because I couldn't pass the Presidential physical fitness test. When it came to the written bowling test, I was an ace in the hole. I knew all the rules of soccer, or enough so that I could get an A+ on the multiple choice exam. But unfortunately, that only accounted for a minimal percentage of the total PE grade. Me getting a C in 7th grade gym sent me to the school counselor in a mini-hysteria, since the idea of ruining my perfect GPA over not being able to run the mile was a complete shock to my perfectionist mentality.
From that point on, I pretty much embraced the idea that me + sports = unhappiness, so I did whatever I had to to get by in gym, until after 10th grade and it wasn't require any longer. Tenth grade signaled the end of me ever being physically challenged by an entity outside of myself. It wasn't that I didn't want to be physically fit. I wanted to keep up with the pack as they ran laps around the track. But the cruelty of teenage kids, coupled with a strong sense of pubescent worthlessness, made it easier to just give up. Climb the rope? No thanks. Take the pull-up test? Are you kidding me? What, do ya want me to pull my arms out of their sockets? Refusing to participate was easier than trying and failing.
Even then, though, I longed to be a runner. My brother was a great cross country runner. My two aunts that I looked up to so highly were marathon runners. One of them even carried the Olympic torch! And from the time I was young, I had helped them at the annual "Rotary Ramble," a 5K that they sponsored that was pretty much the main event in the annual calendar of their small town. I had passed out t-shirts to runners and helped hundreds of runners register for the race, all the while wistfully wishing that somehow I could participate.
Post-college I decided that working out was important, so I got a gym membership and have pretty much belonged to a gym consistently since then. I go to the gym in spurts. For three months I'm committed to working out, and then something happens (like vacation) to interrupt my routine, thereby resulting in me reverting back to old habits. I've never pushed myself to do something that I felt was physically beyond my ability, though.
In early December, I was thinking about getting in shape, and I decided to do it. I would run a 5K. Instead of being the one volunteering at the event, I would be the one registering and receiving the t-shirt. I asked a few friends to train with me because I knew I'd need the support.
So here I am. Nine weeks later, training for my 5K that is in little over a month. I've pushed myself physically more than I ever thought I could. More than the physical challenge is the mental one. Because although my body mostly says, "Wow, this sucks, but we can do it," in the hard times of training, my mind is often louder. In those really tough parts of the run, my middle school brain tends to come to the forefront, reminding me how ridiculous it is to try to run when I'm just the fat kid in gym class, telling me how silly I look and how pointless this is. It's in those times that I literally have to talk to myself out loud! If you've ever been around me at the lakefront when I'm running, you probably have thought that I'm a schizo weirdo, but please understand, I'm just cheering myself on so that the voices outside become louder than the inside middle school ones.
In one month, this fat kid from gym class will cross the finish line of her first 5K. Yep, I said first, signifying that it won't be my last. When I cross the finish line, I'll probably laugh. Or maybe cry. I'm not sure yet, since finishing isn't something that I ever did in middle school gym. Whatever it feels like, however I react, I know that that day, when I cross the finish line, the fat kid will officially be put to rest. I anxiously anticipate her funeral. :-)
You see, I was (and still am) always the fat kid in gym class. As a kid, I never showed much interest in organized sports or outdoor activities. I was more of the nerdy book-reader type. So I never learned how to challenge my body, how to push myself physically, how to go beyond what I felt was possible for my body to accomplish. When I hit middle school and gym became compulsory, when "dressing out" became a curse word in my vocabulary, this was a conundrum for me. Here I was, straight A student, getting C's in gym because I couldn't pass the Presidential physical fitness test. When it came to the written bowling test, I was an ace in the hole. I knew all the rules of soccer, or enough so that I could get an A+ on the multiple choice exam. But unfortunately, that only accounted for a minimal percentage of the total PE grade. Me getting a C in 7th grade gym sent me to the school counselor in a mini-hysteria, since the idea of ruining my perfect GPA over not being able to run the mile was a complete shock to my perfectionist mentality.
From that point on, I pretty much embraced the idea that me + sports = unhappiness, so I did whatever I had to to get by in gym, until after 10th grade and it wasn't require any longer. Tenth grade signaled the end of me ever being physically challenged by an entity outside of myself. It wasn't that I didn't want to be physically fit. I wanted to keep up with the pack as they ran laps around the track. But the cruelty of teenage kids, coupled with a strong sense of pubescent worthlessness, made it easier to just give up. Climb the rope? No thanks. Take the pull-up test? Are you kidding me? What, do ya want me to pull my arms out of their sockets? Refusing to participate was easier than trying and failing.
Even then, though, I longed to be a runner. My brother was a great cross country runner. My two aunts that I looked up to so highly were marathon runners. One of them even carried the Olympic torch! And from the time I was young, I had helped them at the annual "Rotary Ramble," a 5K that they sponsored that was pretty much the main event in the annual calendar of their small town. I had passed out t-shirts to runners and helped hundreds of runners register for the race, all the while wistfully wishing that somehow I could participate.
Post-college I decided that working out was important, so I got a gym membership and have pretty much belonged to a gym consistently since then. I go to the gym in spurts. For three months I'm committed to working out, and then something happens (like vacation) to interrupt my routine, thereby resulting in me reverting back to old habits. I've never pushed myself to do something that I felt was physically beyond my ability, though.
In early December, I was thinking about getting in shape, and I decided to do it. I would run a 5K. Instead of being the one volunteering at the event, I would be the one registering and receiving the t-shirt. I asked a few friends to train with me because I knew I'd need the support.
So here I am. Nine weeks later, training for my 5K that is in little over a month. I've pushed myself physically more than I ever thought I could. More than the physical challenge is the mental one. Because although my body mostly says, "Wow, this sucks, but we can do it," in the hard times of training, my mind is often louder. In those really tough parts of the run, my middle school brain tends to come to the forefront, reminding me how ridiculous it is to try to run when I'm just the fat kid in gym class, telling me how silly I look and how pointless this is. It's in those times that I literally have to talk to myself out loud! If you've ever been around me at the lakefront when I'm running, you probably have thought that I'm a schizo weirdo, but please understand, I'm just cheering myself on so that the voices outside become louder than the inside middle school ones.
In one month, this fat kid from gym class will cross the finish line of her first 5K. Yep, I said first, signifying that it won't be my last. When I cross the finish line, I'll probably laugh. Or maybe cry. I'm not sure yet, since finishing isn't something that I ever did in middle school gym. Whatever it feels like, however I react, I know that that day, when I cross the finish line, the fat kid will officially be put to rest. I anxiously anticipate her funeral. :-)
Saturday, January 2, 2010
A Contrast in Christmases
"Presents are the best way to show someone how much you care. It is like this tangible thing that you can point to and say 'Hey man, I love you this many dollars-worth.'"Silly as it is, I've always had a sort of anxiety about gift-giving because it seemed to me that I was never able to purchase a gift that was good enough for those I love. Money is always in short supply, it seems, right around the time that gifts are due. Whatever money I can scrounge up for a gift never seems adequate. I mean, really - "Hey friend, thanks for walking with me through that really bad breakup. Here's a $20 Barnes & Noble's gift card. Go read a book."
I digress. The point is, in past Christmases, presents have been very important to my family. Maybe because we're not as good at telling each other how much we love and treasure one another, we try, like Michael Scott, to somehow express our love by assigning it a dollar amount. And believe me, Christmases past have NOT been skimpy. I have been showered with gifts, money, gift cards, electronics, and the like.
This Christmas, however, was different. Times have been hard. Many of my family members are in the construction industry, or at least construction-related industries. This kind of work has all but dried up in Northwest Indiana, leaving so many of my family members with a significantly lower incomes. Because of this, my family agreed not to exchange gifts at our family gatherings.
So what had normally been a "presents extravaganza," with gifts piled higher than my grandma's four-foot LED-lit tabletop tree, with the kids panting in expectation of what gift they would open next, would have to be something else this year.
Without the distraction of presents, we had to INTERACT with one another. Gasp! Shock! Dismay! Instead of the focus being on presents, we played games together like Mafia, where, in true Studdard/Hendon family form, most people (including me) lost their voices attempting to compete with the volume level in the house (we're a loud bunch). We shared old memories of one another, as my sweet Aunt Barb gave everyone a jar labeled "I remember" that was filled to the brim with slips of paper of her memories of us. We looked through old photo albums, laughing at the haircuts and stone-washed jeans of yesteryear, yearning for the now-in-style maxi-dresses in pictures from the seventies, wondering in amazement at how much so-and-so looked like Uncle so-and-so, and reminiscing about the fun that we'd shared in all the seasons, not just the Christmas ones.
And it was the absolute best Christmas ever.
After we finished our family Christmas and headed home, we were excited to let my little niece open all of her gifts since she hadn't been with us earlier in the day. Even in the face of financial hardship, we had all set aside money to lavish her with gifts so that she wouldn't feel the affect of the economy in her Christmas. So she did have gifts piled high, waiting her under the tree. And as she went from gift to gift, eagerly tossing aside the gifts she had just opened to move on to bigger and better ones, I wondered, what are we trying to accomplish by the way we "do" Christmas?
I understand that the fathering heart of God pours gifts out to his children, gifts we don't deserve, gifts that we often toss aside after looking at for a few minutes, in exchange for want of another grander, better gift. And if God graciously gives his children gifts, then it only follows that parents, inherently flawed yet made in his likeness, would seek to bless their own children by giving them presents. But when we pile gifts high, allowing the kids to open them, look at them for a few short seconds, and then shoving another gift in front of them, saying "Open this one!" aren't we setting them up for ingratitude? Aren't we giving silent assent to an attitude that always is yearning for more, for what's next?
In my immaturity, I assumed that any Christmas that didn't look like the one full of presents wasn't really Christmas at all. But this December proved me wrong. Presents weren't needed to make this a true Christmas. Having them there may have distracted us from really loving on one another, from laughing together, from singing and playing and just being family.
For the sake of Christmases in the future, I hope that I remember this one. I hope that, whether it's a season of want or plenty, we as a family emphasize the love instead of the gifts, and are able to recreate what we experienced this year. It wasn't about assigning a dollar amount to our love, but it was about truly loving one another, and showing it through our time, attention, and interaction. And it was a real, true Christmas.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
So Kind
Psalm 103:8 (KJV)
The LORD is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy.
There have been so many times in my life that I've come to the end of my own mistakes, come to the end of my own bad, self-centered decisions, and have had to experience the pain of the result. This is the ugly side of the oft-used biblical reference "you reap what you sow."
Many times I've sown seeds out of the desire to fulfill what my flesh wants, only to reap the inevitable result of corruption and destruction.
And as much as I've deserved a swift kick in the rear from God for my ignorance, my pride, my lack of reliance on His way as the best way, He's never done that to me. When I've been in the pit, face-down in the dirt of my bad decisions, God has never rubbed my face in it.
Why? Psalm 103:8. The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and (just in case you forgot what I said two seconds ago) PLENTEOUS IN MERCY.
That word mercy in the Hebrew is beautiful. It means "desire, ardour, in a good sense, zeal toward anyone, love, kindness." It cracks me up that this verse mentions mercy twice, once at the beginning and once at the end, but it's so wise of God. We forget that his mercy is waiting, ever-present, plentiful, abounding, overflowing. In face, we prefer Murphy's Law to God's, quickly assuming that anything bad that could possibly happen will, waiting "for the other shoe to drop." We expect the worst, enter situations skeptically, not hoping too much out of fear of disappointment, instead of remembering that His mercy is available, here, present, and plenteous.
Plenteous in the Hebrew means "much." Not a whole lot of depth in that word, huh? When I was a kid, and my dad would look at me and say, "How much do you love me?" I would stretch my little arms out so wide, wide enough that they were practically behind my back, and say, "This much!" What I was doing was a physical representation of what I wasn't verbally able to express. To my little five-year-old self, stretching my arms out wide meant that my love for him was infinite, inexpressibly big.
So how much mercy does God have for you? How much zeal, how much desire, how much enthusiasm, how much passion, how much love and kindness? THIS MUCH. I'm so thankful for the kindness of God in my life today, for his infinite patience with me. Not a foot-tapping, eyeing-the-clock, how-long-until-you-get-your-act-together, eye-rolling patience. Not simply a tolerance of me or my behavior, but a beautiful zeal for me in both my successes and failures.
The LORD is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy.
There have been so many times in my life that I've come to the end of my own mistakes, come to the end of my own bad, self-centered decisions, and have had to experience the pain of the result. This is the ugly side of the oft-used biblical reference "you reap what you sow."
Many times I've sown seeds out of the desire to fulfill what my flesh wants, only to reap the inevitable result of corruption and destruction.
And as much as I've deserved a swift kick in the rear from God for my ignorance, my pride, my lack of reliance on His way as the best way, He's never done that to me. When I've been in the pit, face-down in the dirt of my bad decisions, God has never rubbed my face in it.
Why? Psalm 103:8. The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and (just in case you forgot what I said two seconds ago) PLENTEOUS IN MERCY.
That word mercy in the Hebrew is beautiful. It means "desire, ardour, in a good sense, zeal toward anyone, love, kindness." It cracks me up that this verse mentions mercy twice, once at the beginning and once at the end, but it's so wise of God. We forget that his mercy is waiting, ever-present, plentiful, abounding, overflowing. In face, we prefer Murphy's Law to God's, quickly assuming that anything bad that could possibly happen will, waiting "for the other shoe to drop." We expect the worst, enter situations skeptically, not hoping too much out of fear of disappointment, instead of remembering that His mercy is available, here, present, and plenteous.
Plenteous in the Hebrew means "much." Not a whole lot of depth in that word, huh? When I was a kid, and my dad would look at me and say, "How much do you love me?" I would stretch my little arms out so wide, wide enough that they were practically behind my back, and say, "This much!" What I was doing was a physical representation of what I wasn't verbally able to express. To my little five-year-old self, stretching my arms out wide meant that my love for him was infinite, inexpressibly big.
So how much mercy does God have for you? How much zeal, how much desire, how much enthusiasm, how much passion, how much love and kindness? THIS MUCH. I'm so thankful for the kindness of God in my life today, for his infinite patience with me. Not a foot-tapping, eyeing-the-clock, how-long-until-you-get-your-act-together, eye-rolling patience. Not simply a tolerance of me or my behavior, but a beautiful zeal for me in both my successes and failures.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
The Year of No Limits... to living by my feelings
I know it's a little early to do a Year In Review, but I've been thinking a lot towards 2010. In conversation this week I was talking about the year 2009 as "The Year of No Limits," and before I had a chance to think, I said, "This has been a crap year."
Wow.
The minute the words were out, I knew they weren't true. And to classify an entire year as "crap" ... that's a little overly-dramatic, right? This has been a groundbreaking year for me. I bought a house - something I NEVER thought I could do as a single woman on one income. I got out of credit card debt - yet another feat I NEVER thought would be accomplished without divine intervention (thank GOD for his intervention that made it possible). I had an opportunity to be a part of a groundbreaking worship recording at City of Life. I accomplished projects at my job that were difficult and time-consuming and hard; things I'd never done before and never thought I'd be asked to take on. Yet I accomplished them and (most of the time, if it was in my power) did them excellently.
Yet those words betrayed the position of my heart. Because while so many amazing things have happened to me this year, my own personal mental state, my spiritual state, and my emotional state has been pretty out-of-whack. I started the year with a break-up, which is never fun. Plus, this was my very first break-up, so I was experiencing feelings I never had before. For once, I didn't know how to handle something. And while God was incredibly merciful to me and worked a miracle in healing my heart quickly and fully, I think starting the year this way sort of threw me off, emotionally.
I began living from and out of my feelings. Insecurity gripped me and drove me, guiding my decisions. I literally felt like I was living on the brink of losing my mind, as my fears surfaced and took the driver's seat.
And, unfortunately, as all these amazing things happened to me that I listed above, I was so disconnected from all of them that I didn't truly enjoy any of them. I was so busy scrambling, working, striving, grasping, all to maintain some kind of security for myself that I couldn't provide anyway (Hey did you know I'm not God? No, really!), that these glorious moments passed as nothing more than a bother.
I'm looking forward to a fresh start. I've been truly putting effort into putting my feelings in their proper place. I've been re-ordering my life and letting God re-introduce himself to me, starting with the basic and only lesson I'll ever really need for life with him: his love and, more importantly, his LIKE for me.
Wow.
The minute the words were out, I knew they weren't true. And to classify an entire year as "crap" ... that's a little overly-dramatic, right? This has been a groundbreaking year for me. I bought a house - something I NEVER thought I could do as a single woman on one income. I got out of credit card debt - yet another feat I NEVER thought would be accomplished without divine intervention (thank GOD for his intervention that made it possible). I had an opportunity to be a part of a groundbreaking worship recording at City of Life. I accomplished projects at my job that were difficult and time-consuming and hard; things I'd never done before and never thought I'd be asked to take on. Yet I accomplished them and (most of the time, if it was in my power) did them excellently.
Yet those words betrayed the position of my heart. Because while so many amazing things have happened to me this year, my own personal mental state, my spiritual state, and my emotional state has been pretty out-of-whack. I started the year with a break-up, which is never fun. Plus, this was my very first break-up, so I was experiencing feelings I never had before. For once, I didn't know how to handle something. And while God was incredibly merciful to me and worked a miracle in healing my heart quickly and fully, I think starting the year this way sort of threw me off, emotionally.
I began living from and out of my feelings. Insecurity gripped me and drove me, guiding my decisions. I literally felt like I was living on the brink of losing my mind, as my fears surfaced and took the driver's seat.
And, unfortunately, as all these amazing things happened to me that I listed above, I was so disconnected from all of them that I didn't truly enjoy any of them. I was so busy scrambling, working, striving, grasping, all to maintain some kind of security for myself that I couldn't provide anyway (Hey did you know I'm not God? No, really!), that these glorious moments passed as nothing more than a bother.
I'm looking forward to a fresh start. I've been truly putting effort into putting my feelings in their proper place. I've been re-ordering my life and letting God re-introduce himself to me, starting with the basic and only lesson I'll ever really need for life with him: his love and, more importantly, his LIKE for me.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Develop In Me A Longing That Is Unrestrained (Richard Rolle)
I ask you, Lord Jesus,
to develop in me, your lover,
an immeasurable urge towards you,
an affection that is unbounded,
a longing that is unrestrained,
a fervor that throws discretion to the winds!
The more worthwhile our love for you,
all the more pressing it does become.
Reason cannot hold it in check,
fear does not make it tremble,
wise judgement does not temper it.
to develop in me, your lover,
an immeasurable urge towards you,
an affection that is unbounded,
a longing that is unrestrained,
a fervor that throws discretion to the winds!
The more worthwhile our love for you,
all the more pressing it does become.
Reason cannot hold it in check,
fear does not make it tremble,
wise judgement does not temper it.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
A Psalm from me to You
My heart is like an overflowing fountain
Like an endless series of waves breaking on shore
Praises keep on coming and coming and coming
For You have come to my side at every cry for help
At the mere whisper of a need, You have provided
And in moments when I wasn't wise enough to know I needed help, You came anyways, without me even knowing
For these things, I praise You
For these things, I exalt You
For these things, I magnify You
Lover, Protector, Provider, Shield, FATHER
Like an endless series of waves breaking on shore
Praises keep on coming and coming and coming
For You have come to my side at every cry for help
At the mere whisper of a need, You have provided
And in moments when I wasn't wise enough to know I needed help, You came anyways, without me even knowing
For these things, I praise You
For these things, I exalt You
For these things, I magnify You
Lover, Protector, Provider, Shield, FATHER
Friday, August 14, 2009
Are You Hungry?
I'm sure you've heard people talk about being hungry for God. We sing songs about it, hear messages about it, and even pray for hunger. This talk has been especially big around City of Life, as the spiritual climate escalates and we prepare to experience more of the supernatural than ever before. My pastor mentioned recently that he didn't believe that God could MAKE anyone hungry, and, in fact, to pray for God to stir up a hunger or make us hungry for Him was an impossible request. He asserted that we have to make ourselves hungry.
You know, when I first heard him say this, I was a little offended! I had prayed, "God, make me hungry for you" many times! But the more I think about it, the more I believe him to be true.
There are many theories about why we become physically hungry for food. However, most scientists agree that hunger has a physiological part and a psychological part. First, the physiological part: our bodies were created with certain chemicals like insulin and glucose, along with hormones, that cause us to be hungry. In a quest to regulate these chemicals, we become hungry until our brain and stomach are satisfied.
Then there's the psychological part. No doubt you've looked at the clock around noon (or whatever time you usually eat lunch) and become hungry simply because of the learned behavior of eating at a certain time. I know this from teaching. One year my class had a 10:30 a.m. lunch. I've never been a breakfast eater, and the thought of eating so early in the day was a little strange to me. But yet, a few weeks into the school routine, when 10:25 would roll around, my stomach would begin growling at the thought of lunch. Or what about the psychological affect that our senses have on hunger? You may not be hungry, but sometimes hearing the McDonald's jingle and smelling their delicious french fries is enough to make you take on the dollar menu! (If you're like me, your thoughts are now calculating the length of the drive from where you are right now to the nearest McDonalds. Stay with me here! Focus!!!)
At any rate, spiritual hunger has the same components. God created you with an innate, inborn desire for Him. Kind of like the physical component of hunger - it's built in. We've all heard the "man was created with a God-shaped hole" message a thousand times, right? In the core of all of us is a hunger for God. The wise ones fill it with God. Yet most attempt to satiate it with whatever is available that tickles our fancy and comes at the least cost to us. Slapping the snooze alarm a few times is easier than getting up and spending time with God. It makes us feel good. It fills (for a time) that need, that hunger, for God. We fill our lives with work, family, entertainment, church, friends... all GOOD things, yet none of which can truly satisfy that deep hunger. If the hunger for God isn't filled with God, then all of other pursuits are basically idolatry. Ouch.
The problem with filling your spiritual hunger with things that aren't God is that eventually, it shows. Just like a strict diet of mountain dew and sausage pizza would lead to vitamin deficiencies and weight gain, thus causing a physical manifestation of what you've been taking in to your body, a diet of idols eventually shows in your disposition, your faith, and the fruit that your life produces.
And then there's this other component of hunger for God, the learned part, similar to the psychological aspect of physical hunger. I believe that there's a mental component to our hunger for God. Being around people who stir you up, who encourage you to press in for more of God, has an effect on your desire for God. "Like iron sharpens iron," sometimes we are driven to search for God because the people around us encourage us to. We see our pastors and spiritual leaders delving into Bible study and teaching us out of the rich treasures they discover, and it inspires us. We hear believers around us praying passionately, using different words and different communication styles than we've ever heard, and it pushes us to go further in our prayer lives.
Just as your environment can encourage you to pursue more with God, it can also dissuade you. I've been in circumstances where I am hanging around new people, and when one of them asks me, "Are you hungry?" I make a casual statement like, "I could eat," or "I'm ok," even though my stomach is growling and I am ravenous. Or like when you go to a restaurant with a bunch of girls, and you're really hungry, but the others order salads with fat-free dressing, it dissuades you from ordering that big greasy bacon cheeseburger that you have been craving all day. In these environments, I choose to limit my expression of hunger because of my surroundings... I don't want to seem out of place, or greedy, or look unladylike. When we surround ourselves with people who have low standards and who mock those who pursue God in a deeper way than the norm, we are doing ourselves a disservice. Their hunger (or lack thereof) will mirror itself in our hunger.
The word says in Psalms that "Deep calls to deep." I believe that spiritual disciplines, such as regular, daily Bible study, is tough at first. It's a LEARNED process. But as you get further in, deep calls to deep, and the more you do, the more you want. What starts as a learned, environmental thing becomes something that possesses you and drives you.
So, are you hungry? Honestly? If your answer is no, then why not? Stir YOURSELF up. Examine the areas that you may've replaced your desire for God with different things, and then clean house! Get them out of your life! Surround yourself with people who are hungrier than you are, and let their hunger rub off on you.
God wants to fill your hunger. Why pick at a salad when he wants to be your cheeseburger? :-)
You know, when I first heard him say this, I was a little offended! I had prayed, "God, make me hungry for you" many times! But the more I think about it, the more I believe him to be true.
There are many theories about why we become physically hungry for food. However, most scientists agree that hunger has a physiological part and a psychological part. First, the physiological part: our bodies were created with certain chemicals like insulin and glucose, along with hormones, that cause us to be hungry. In a quest to regulate these chemicals, we become hungry until our brain and stomach are satisfied.
Then there's the psychological part. No doubt you've looked at the clock around noon (or whatever time you usually eat lunch) and become hungry simply because of the learned behavior of eating at a certain time. I know this from teaching. One year my class had a 10:30 a.m. lunch. I've never been a breakfast eater, and the thought of eating so early in the day was a little strange to me. But yet, a few weeks into the school routine, when 10:25 would roll around, my stomach would begin growling at the thought of lunch. Or what about the psychological affect that our senses have on hunger? You may not be hungry, but sometimes hearing the McDonald's jingle and smelling their delicious french fries is enough to make you take on the dollar menu! (If you're like me, your thoughts are now calculating the length of the drive from where you are right now to the nearest McDonalds. Stay with me here! Focus!!!)
At any rate, spiritual hunger has the same components. God created you with an innate, inborn desire for Him. Kind of like the physical component of hunger - it's built in. We've all heard the "man was created with a God-shaped hole" message a thousand times, right? In the core of all of us is a hunger for God. The wise ones fill it with God. Yet most attempt to satiate it with whatever is available that tickles our fancy and comes at the least cost to us. Slapping the snooze alarm a few times is easier than getting up and spending time with God. It makes us feel good. It fills (for a time) that need, that hunger, for God. We fill our lives with work, family, entertainment, church, friends... all GOOD things, yet none of which can truly satisfy that deep hunger. If the hunger for God isn't filled with God, then all of other pursuits are basically idolatry. Ouch.
The problem with filling your spiritual hunger with things that aren't God is that eventually, it shows. Just like a strict diet of mountain dew and sausage pizza would lead to vitamin deficiencies and weight gain, thus causing a physical manifestation of what you've been taking in to your body, a diet of idols eventually shows in your disposition, your faith, and the fruit that your life produces.
And then there's this other component of hunger for God, the learned part, similar to the psychological aspect of physical hunger. I believe that there's a mental component to our hunger for God. Being around people who stir you up, who encourage you to press in for more of God, has an effect on your desire for God. "Like iron sharpens iron," sometimes we are driven to search for God because the people around us encourage us to. We see our pastors and spiritual leaders delving into Bible study and teaching us out of the rich treasures they discover, and it inspires us. We hear believers around us praying passionately, using different words and different communication styles than we've ever heard, and it pushes us to go further in our prayer lives.
Just as your environment can encourage you to pursue more with God, it can also dissuade you. I've been in circumstances where I am hanging around new people, and when one of them asks me, "Are you hungry?" I make a casual statement like, "I could eat," or "I'm ok," even though my stomach is growling and I am ravenous. Or like when you go to a restaurant with a bunch of girls, and you're really hungry, but the others order salads with fat-free dressing, it dissuades you from ordering that big greasy bacon cheeseburger that you have been craving all day. In these environments, I choose to limit my expression of hunger because of my surroundings... I don't want to seem out of place, or greedy, or look unladylike. When we surround ourselves with people who have low standards and who mock those who pursue God in a deeper way than the norm, we are doing ourselves a disservice. Their hunger (or lack thereof) will mirror itself in our hunger.
The word says in Psalms that "Deep calls to deep." I believe that spiritual disciplines, such as regular, daily Bible study, is tough at first. It's a LEARNED process. But as you get further in, deep calls to deep, and the more you do, the more you want. What starts as a learned, environmental thing becomes something that possesses you and drives you.
So, are you hungry? Honestly? If your answer is no, then why not? Stir YOURSELF up. Examine the areas that you may've replaced your desire for God with different things, and then clean house! Get them out of your life! Surround yourself with people who are hungrier than you are, and let their hunger rub off on you.
God wants to fill your hunger. Why pick at a salad when he wants to be your cheeseburger? :-)
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
The Party's Over!
A man's as miserable as he thinks he is. -Seneca
So lately I've been having these parties. Big ones. Frequently. The guest list is short by my own choosing, and those in attendance don't ever say enough or do enough to satisfy me with their presence. Some of the guests refuse to stay, because they've been to my parties, and they know what to expect and would rather not participate.
Yeah you got it - I'm the host of the world's largest pity parties.
It seems lately I've been doing a lot of wallowing in self-pity. Self-pity is a very egocentric thing, too, because unless you have honest people around you to snap you out of it, you can be up to your elbows in it, and yet have no idea that you're in the middle of it. Thankfully, there's one person in my life who isn't afraid to point my sessions of self-pity out to me (we all need at least ONE person who will do that!).
So what is self pity? Well, here's what Websters says:
Self-pity: pity for oneself; especially : a self-indulgent dwelling on one's own sorrows or misfortunes
And the definition above is entirely true - self-pity is so self-indulgent. At the very core of it is a focus on SELF. In the middle of self-pity, we choose to look exclusively at our problems, our lack, our shortcomings, our circumstance; we allow it to envelop us to the point where we feel as though the world owes us something: sympathy, a shoulder to cry on, or little assurances like "you're so strong" or "you're such a hard worker" or "you don't deserve that."
Self-pity is the polar opposite of a grateful heart. As one who struggles continually with self-pity, I know that I have to FORCE myself to be thankful. I have to take the very things that I want to whine and gripe about, and instead turn them around and use them as sources of thankfulness.
So here's some common complaints, followed by ways you can turn your gripes into gratitude:
Your job sucks? At least you have one. 13.7 million Americans are unemployed right now.
Your marriage is on the rocks? At least you're still married. 50% of American marriages end in divorce.
You're single and you're feeling sorry that Mr. or Ms. Right hasn't shown up? Well, given the statistics above, it seems better to be single than in one of the unhappy marriages that fall prey to divorce. That's something to be thankful for! My mom drilled into my head from the time I was young that it is better to be single and lonely than married and lonely. You could be in an unsatisfying, unconnected relationship that you're locked in for life! Maybe you're single and unsatisfied and unconnected, but at least now you have options!
You're facing financial ruin or foreclosure? In Honduras a few weeks ago, our team tore down a shed on the Hands to the World compound property and piled the left-over wood to be burned. A Honduran lady who was cooking for the team saw the wood pile and begged that it be set aside for her. A few days later, she invited us to her one-room, dirt-floor home, which, to our shock, had been newly constructed using the "trash" we had been so ready to burn. Whether you're own a home, rent, or live with someone else, at least you have a place to lay your head. You probably have a bed (these Hondurans didn't), and the walls of your home are probably insulated (the cracks between the planks of the walls were large enough to let wind, insects, and rain in). You probably even have indoor plumbing (these people didn't). Furthermore, this family was so proud of their newly built home, and their pride humbled me. I was embarrassed that I had ever complained about my house: the dirt on the carpet, a cracked tile, the lack of hardware on my cabinets.
I say all this not to downplay the circumstance that you're dealing with at this very moment. Yes, life is hard, and yes, God sees and cares about your situation and your worries as only a father can. But I can't help but wonder if our God, the one who has the global perspective, the one who is just as close to me right now as he is to that Honduran family in the shack, looks at my crappy attitude about my 2008 Mazda and sighs a little, rolling his eyes that I would dare enter my car with disdain as I secretly wish it were a Lexus or a Mercedes. I mean, really?!
So, instead of embracing this martyr complex, what about looking at things a little differently? (I'm preaching to myself here.) What about changing every opportunity for self-pity into a moment of gratitude, a moment where we stop and just thank God for His goodness, His faithfulness?
And if this isn't a struggle of yours, but you see a good friend slipping into the mire self-pity, why not be a true friend and, in the most loving way possible, tell them to snap out of it? Instead of doing what's easiest and joining in the pity party, refuse to attend. Help your friends see the many blessings that their momentary lapse into self-pity has blinded them to.
As I once heard a friend say, sometimes you just have to put on your big-girl panties and get on with life!
So lately I've been having these parties. Big ones. Frequently. The guest list is short by my own choosing, and those in attendance don't ever say enough or do enough to satisfy me with their presence. Some of the guests refuse to stay, because they've been to my parties, and they know what to expect and would rather not participate.
Yeah you got it - I'm the host of the world's largest pity parties.
It seems lately I've been doing a lot of wallowing in self-pity. Self-pity is a very egocentric thing, too, because unless you have honest people around you to snap you out of it, you can be up to your elbows in it, and yet have no idea that you're in the middle of it. Thankfully, there's one person in my life who isn't afraid to point my sessions of self-pity out to me (we all need at least ONE person who will do that!).
So what is self pity? Well, here's what Websters says:
Self-pity: pity for oneself; especially : a self-indulgent dwelling on one's own sorrows or misfortunes
And the definition above is entirely true - self-pity is so self-indulgent. At the very core of it is a focus on SELF. In the middle of self-pity, we choose to look exclusively at our problems, our lack, our shortcomings, our circumstance; we allow it to envelop us to the point where we feel as though the world owes us something: sympathy, a shoulder to cry on, or little assurances like "you're so strong" or "you're such a hard worker" or "you don't deserve that."
Self-pity is the polar opposite of a grateful heart. As one who struggles continually with self-pity, I know that I have to FORCE myself to be thankful. I have to take the very things that I want to whine and gripe about, and instead turn them around and use them as sources of thankfulness.
So here's some common complaints, followed by ways you can turn your gripes into gratitude:
Your job sucks? At least you have one. 13.7 million Americans are unemployed right now.
Your marriage is on the rocks? At least you're still married. 50% of American marriages end in divorce.
You're single and you're feeling sorry that Mr. or Ms. Right hasn't shown up? Well, given the statistics above, it seems better to be single than in one of the unhappy marriages that fall prey to divorce. That's something to be thankful for! My mom drilled into my head from the time I was young that it is better to be single and lonely than married and lonely. You could be in an unsatisfying, unconnected relationship that you're locked in for life! Maybe you're single and unsatisfied and unconnected, but at least now you have options!
You're facing financial ruin or foreclosure? In Honduras a few weeks ago, our team tore down a shed on the Hands to the World compound property and piled the left-over wood to be burned. A Honduran lady who was cooking for the team saw the wood pile and begged that it be set aside for her. A few days later, she invited us to her one-room, dirt-floor home, which, to our shock, had been newly constructed using the "trash" we had been so ready to burn. Whether you're own a home, rent, or live with someone else, at least you have a place to lay your head. You probably have a bed (these Hondurans didn't), and the walls of your home are probably insulated (the cracks between the planks of the walls were large enough to let wind, insects, and rain in). You probably even have indoor plumbing (these people didn't). Furthermore, this family was so proud of their newly built home, and their pride humbled me. I was embarrassed that I had ever complained about my house: the dirt on the carpet, a cracked tile, the lack of hardware on my cabinets.
I say all this not to downplay the circumstance that you're dealing with at this very moment. Yes, life is hard, and yes, God sees and cares about your situation and your worries as only a father can. But I can't help but wonder if our God, the one who has the global perspective, the one who is just as close to me right now as he is to that Honduran family in the shack, looks at my crappy attitude about my 2008 Mazda and sighs a little, rolling his eyes that I would dare enter my car with disdain as I secretly wish it were a Lexus or a Mercedes. I mean, really?!
So, instead of embracing this martyr complex, what about looking at things a little differently? (I'm preaching to myself here.) What about changing every opportunity for self-pity into a moment of gratitude, a moment where we stop and just thank God for His goodness, His faithfulness?
And if this isn't a struggle of yours, but you see a good friend slipping into the mire self-pity, why not be a true friend and, in the most loving way possible, tell them to snap out of it? Instead of doing what's easiest and joining in the pity party, refuse to attend. Help your friends see the many blessings that their momentary lapse into self-pity has blinded them to.
As I once heard a friend say, sometimes you just have to put on your big-girl panties and get on with life!
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Five Year Plan
Tonight I sat in a booth at a wings restaurant with a friend who knows me well. We were discussing some pretty heavy things when my friend looked at me and said, “Cassandra Hendon, where do you think we’ll be in five years?”
What a question. I honestly didn’t have any clue.
It’s not a profound question. It’s repeated often in job interviews. It’s lectured in business schools – “A Five-Year Plan.” But for me, it gave me pause. There’s been a lot of talk around me lately about forward motion. Moving to a new place, a new level.
But where do I think I’ll be in five years? I haven’t thought about it. I’ve been so concerned with the “now”, with what’s right immediately in front of me, with a reactionary sort of life, immediately responding to the dilemma, tasks, or goals right in front of my face, that I haven’t ever thought of where I’m headed. So where am I going?
Tonight I sit here and question myself. What do I want? Do I have the courage to even dream, to think that there could be something possible for me outside what is in front of me, outside of the swirl of the business of life?
So here are some things I want for my life. Real, honest, brave things that I’m saying, acknowledging to everyone.
I want to be completely in love with Jesus. I want to pursue a love relationship with Jesus so fervently that it drives every decision I make, even the small ones. I want to be the woman of God I used to think I could be as a child, before I saw people fall, before disappointment jaded my view of Christians and of myself. I want to live above mediocrity. I want to pursue Jesus above all else – above the mundane, above my own desires for comfort, for fulfillment, for satisfaction. I want to consistently fix my eyes on Jesus, not on my circumstances, not on my schedule, not on whether I’m too tired, too burned out, too busy, too lazy. I want to guard my relationship with him so zealously that nothing can come between him and me. Instead of being a Gomer, I want to be faithful, through and through. I want everything in my life to flow out of the time that I spend with him, so that I’m not shaken in hard times.
I want love. I want it in the right time and I want it in the right person. I don’t want love for love’s sake, or because I feel my clock ticking, or because “everyone else” has love. I want it because I was formed to want it, I was created to love a man, to be a helper to him, to support him in his pursuit of being who God has called him to be (and through that support, fulfill part of my own purpose as a woman), to have his children and love them and raise them to love the Lord. I’m tired of pretending that love is gross or overrated or not for me just because I don’t have it right now. Whether I get it or not, I want it. Maybe within five years, maybe not, but whenever God sees fit to bring me to the one He made me for.
I want to rescue children. I want to take in children who are abused and neglected and become a foster parent. I also want to reach out to women (both in the US and abroad) considering abortion. I want to approach them in a new, unorthodox way that transcends judgment. I want to go to other countries like China where abortion isn’t a big deal, where it’s offered as after-the-fact birth control, and minister destiny and hope to women contemplating it. I want to save babies from death by introducing women to a God of purpose and love. I want to use creative methods to take an inflammatory political issue and put a face and a name to it, to make it less about left and right and more about wrong and right. I want my friends, who are the most creative people in the world, to play a part in this.
I want to write and record songs. I want to write songs that bring hope to people, songs that transport people to the throne room of heaven, songs that stir people up, songs full of the Word of God that pop into peoples’ heads in decision-making times and help them discover and do God’s will.
What a question. I honestly didn’t have any clue.
It’s not a profound question. It’s repeated often in job interviews. It’s lectured in business schools – “A Five-Year Plan.” But for me, it gave me pause. There’s been a lot of talk around me lately about forward motion. Moving to a new place, a new level.
But where do I think I’ll be in five years? I haven’t thought about it. I’ve been so concerned with the “now”, with what’s right immediately in front of me, with a reactionary sort of life, immediately responding to the dilemma, tasks, or goals right in front of my face, that I haven’t ever thought of where I’m headed. So where am I going?
Tonight I sit here and question myself. What do I want? Do I have the courage to even dream, to think that there could be something possible for me outside what is in front of me, outside of the swirl of the business of life?
So here are some things I want for my life. Real, honest, brave things that I’m saying, acknowledging to everyone.
I want to be completely in love with Jesus. I want to pursue a love relationship with Jesus so fervently that it drives every decision I make, even the small ones. I want to be the woman of God I used to think I could be as a child, before I saw people fall, before disappointment jaded my view of Christians and of myself. I want to live above mediocrity. I want to pursue Jesus above all else – above the mundane, above my own desires for comfort, for fulfillment, for satisfaction. I want to consistently fix my eyes on Jesus, not on my circumstances, not on my schedule, not on whether I’m too tired, too burned out, too busy, too lazy. I want to guard my relationship with him so zealously that nothing can come between him and me. Instead of being a Gomer, I want to be faithful, through and through. I want everything in my life to flow out of the time that I spend with him, so that I’m not shaken in hard times.
I want love. I want it in the right time and I want it in the right person. I don’t want love for love’s sake, or because I feel my clock ticking, or because “everyone else” has love. I want it because I was formed to want it, I was created to love a man, to be a helper to him, to support him in his pursuit of being who God has called him to be (and through that support, fulfill part of my own purpose as a woman), to have his children and love them and raise them to love the Lord. I’m tired of pretending that love is gross or overrated or not for me just because I don’t have it right now. Whether I get it or not, I want it. Maybe within five years, maybe not, but whenever God sees fit to bring me to the one He made me for.
I want to rescue children. I want to take in children who are abused and neglected and become a foster parent. I also want to reach out to women (both in the US and abroad) considering abortion. I want to approach them in a new, unorthodox way that transcends judgment. I want to go to other countries like China where abortion isn’t a big deal, where it’s offered as after-the-fact birth control, and minister destiny and hope to women contemplating it. I want to save babies from death by introducing women to a God of purpose and love. I want to use creative methods to take an inflammatory political issue and put a face and a name to it, to make it less about left and right and more about wrong and right. I want my friends, who are the most creative people in the world, to play a part in this.
I want to write and record songs. I want to write songs that bring hope to people, songs that transport people to the throne room of heaven, songs that stir people up, songs full of the Word of God that pop into peoples’ heads in decision-making times and help them discover and do God’s will.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Connected by the Covenant
Most of us know what it is to feel that something about you "counts you out" of the better things in life. Whether it's your looks, your talent (or lack thereof), your social skills... I think at one time or another, we have all felt that we don't have what it takes. We often look at the promises that God has given to others and wonder, "What about me?"
This happened to me recently. I was so excited to hear an awesome prophetic word spoken over a friend. Yet later, when I stopped to think, I realized that no one had ever spoken a prophetic word about me. What about ME? My thoughts then went down that all-too-familiar "I'm not cut out for this" or "I don't have what it takes" path. And pretty soon, my friend's joy became my own self-centered pity party!
I've been studying Romans, and somehow this study has led me to think a little about the story of Abraham and Sarah. Abraham was a great man of faith. In fact, Paul held him up as the archetype by which we should model ourselves concerning faith. Over seven times in Genesis, God mentioned or promised to him that he would have many descendents and become a great nation. If anyone had a great prophetic word spoken over them, it was this guy! Especially in the face of his age and his own wife's inability to bear children, this guy stood fast. But what about Sarah?
Here's Sarah, hearing all of these great accounts of the wonderful words that God has spoken to her husband about how he's going to make him a great nation, and give him many descendants. But this woman is barren. Even early in Genesis (11:30) before any promises were made to Abraham by God, she's referred to as barren. This was a long-standing problem. And no doubt, Sarah felt that she was not enough, didn't have what it would take to help God's promise come to pass, and was counted out of this promise. In fact, we can see this in how she offered up her servant, Hagar, so that she could help God out in keeping his promise. We can even see her attitude towards herself in the way she speaks to Abram: "See now, the Lord has restrained me from bearing children. Please, go in to my maid; perhaps I shall obtain children by her."
This is a woman who looks at herself and her own inability and immediately counts herself out. In fact, she thinks that even GOD has counted her out. But what she doesn't realize is that because she is in a covenant relationship with her husband, God's promises to her husband will come through HER, because God honors that covenant and would never do anything in a round-about way. The promise of God isn't for everyone else but you. It is for YOU, because you are in covenant with HIM!
And thinking about it, the same goes for other covenant relationships you are in. If you're committed to a church body, and great words have been spoken over that church, it's time to start taking those words personally and grabbing ahold of them for YOUR life. I've heard too many times that a waterfall is about to break forth at City of Life and passively nodded or said "amen." But it's time to stop passivity. This is MY promise. This waterfall is for MY life. I will see signs. I will see wonders. It's not for everyone else BUT me. I don't have to be smart enough, anointed enough, beautiful enough, talented enough, or ENOUGH of anything to qualify for the promise of God! I'm included in the promise JUST as I am because God honors the connection that I have with the house and with Him. And you're included too!
And another quick note. In Romans, it says in chapter 4, verse 19 and 20, that Abraham was not weak in faith and didn't waver. It's easy to skim past that and take it at face value, but when we think of the whole Hagar fiasco, then we see that, yeah, Abraham did have moments where he didn't trust God. Where he did waver. Yet he didn't camp out in his doubt or his wavering. And that is what sets the great men and women of faith apart. Yes, they may have faltered. Yes, they may have sinned. But they didn't stay there. After their sin, they got up, dusted themselves off, and kept pressing forward. And because of their entire walk, not just one moment of failure, or even one HUGE mistake (like Ishmael), God called them "not weak in faith" and unwavering. Isn't that cool? Momentary moments of doubt don't downgrade your status as a woman or man of faith. God sees the whole picture. If you are a person who sometimes struggles, sometimes questions, but overall presses forward and keeps going despite faltering, you are still called "faithful" in His eyes!
Realize that God's promises are for you. Who you are doesn't count you out, because God likes you and takes great delight in You. If you'll stay faithful, you will see His promises come to pass in you and through you.
And if you happen to have tripped up in your faith and your pursuit of God, don't stay on the ground. Get up! Keep going!
"God-loyal people don't stay down long. Soon they're up on their feet." (Prov 24:16 MSG)
This happened to me recently. I was so excited to hear an awesome prophetic word spoken over a friend. Yet later, when I stopped to think, I realized that no one had ever spoken a prophetic word about me. What about ME? My thoughts then went down that all-too-familiar "I'm not cut out for this" or "I don't have what it takes" path. And pretty soon, my friend's joy became my own self-centered pity party!
I've been studying Romans, and somehow this study has led me to think a little about the story of Abraham and Sarah. Abraham was a great man of faith. In fact, Paul held him up as the archetype by which we should model ourselves concerning faith. Over seven times in Genesis, God mentioned or promised to him that he would have many descendents and become a great nation. If anyone had a great prophetic word spoken over them, it was this guy! Especially in the face of his age and his own wife's inability to bear children, this guy stood fast. But what about Sarah?
Here's Sarah, hearing all of these great accounts of the wonderful words that God has spoken to her husband about how he's going to make him a great nation, and give him many descendants. But this woman is barren. Even early in Genesis (11:30) before any promises were made to Abraham by God, she's referred to as barren. This was a long-standing problem. And no doubt, Sarah felt that she was not enough, didn't have what it would take to help God's promise come to pass, and was counted out of this promise. In fact, we can see this in how she offered up her servant, Hagar, so that she could help God out in keeping his promise. We can even see her attitude towards herself in the way she speaks to Abram: "See now, the Lord has restrained me from bearing children. Please, go in to my maid; perhaps I shall obtain children by her."
This is a woman who looks at herself and her own inability and immediately counts herself out. In fact, she thinks that even GOD has counted her out. But what she doesn't realize is that because she is in a covenant relationship with her husband, God's promises to her husband will come through HER, because God honors that covenant and would never do anything in a round-about way. The promise of God isn't for everyone else but you. It is for YOU, because you are in covenant with HIM!
And thinking about it, the same goes for other covenant relationships you are in. If you're committed to a church body, and great words have been spoken over that church, it's time to start taking those words personally and grabbing ahold of them for YOUR life. I've heard too many times that a waterfall is about to break forth at City of Life and passively nodded or said "amen." But it's time to stop passivity. This is MY promise. This waterfall is for MY life. I will see signs. I will see wonders. It's not for everyone else BUT me. I don't have to be smart enough, anointed enough, beautiful enough, talented enough, or ENOUGH of anything to qualify for the promise of God! I'm included in the promise JUST as I am because God honors the connection that I have with the house and with Him. And you're included too!
And another quick note. In Romans, it says in chapter 4, verse 19 and 20, that Abraham was not weak in faith and didn't waver. It's easy to skim past that and take it at face value, but when we think of the whole Hagar fiasco, then we see that, yeah, Abraham did have moments where he didn't trust God. Where he did waver. Yet he didn't camp out in his doubt or his wavering. And that is what sets the great men and women of faith apart. Yes, they may have faltered. Yes, they may have sinned. But they didn't stay there. After their sin, they got up, dusted themselves off, and kept pressing forward. And because of their entire walk, not just one moment of failure, or even one HUGE mistake (like Ishmael), God called them "not weak in faith" and unwavering. Isn't that cool? Momentary moments of doubt don't downgrade your status as a woman or man of faith. God sees the whole picture. If you are a person who sometimes struggles, sometimes questions, but overall presses forward and keeps going despite faltering, you are still called "faithful" in His eyes!
Realize that God's promises are for you. Who you are doesn't count you out, because God likes you and takes great delight in You. If you'll stay faithful, you will see His promises come to pass in you and through you.
And if you happen to have tripped up in your faith and your pursuit of God, don't stay on the ground. Get up! Keep going!
"God-loyal people don't stay down long. Soon they're up on their feet." (Prov 24:16 MSG)
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Rend the Heavens
Isaiah 64
1 Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down,
that the mountains would tremble before you!
2 As when fire sets twigs ablaze
and causes water to boil,
come down to make your name known to your enemies
and cause the nations to quake before you!
3 For when you did awesome things that we did not expect,
you came down, and the mountains trembled before you.
4 Since ancient times no one has heard,
no ear has perceived,
no eye has seen any God besides you,
who acts on behalf of those who wait for him.
5 You come to the help of those who gladly do right,
who remember your ways.
But when we continued to sin against them,
you were angry.
How then can we be saved?
6 All of us have become like one who is unclean,
and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags;
we all shrivel up like a leaf,
and like the wind our sins sweep us away.
7 No one calls on your name
or strives to lay hold of you;
for you have hidden your face from us
and made us waste away because of our sins.
8 Yet, O LORD, you are our Father.
We are the clay, you are the potter;
we are all the work of your hand.
9 Do not be angry beyond measure, O LORD;
do not remember our sins forever.
Oh, look upon us, we pray,
for we are all your people.
10 Your sacred cities have become a desert;
even Zion is a desert, Jerusalem a desolation.
11 Our holy and glorious temple, where our fathers praised you,
has been burned with fire,
and all that we treasured lies in ruins.
12 After all this, O LORD, will you hold yourself back?
Will you keep silent and punish us beyond measure?
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Long Distance
I use my blog as a place to record ideas, wisdom, and quotes from other people that I want to remember. I found this in Aaron Stern's blog (aaronstern.typepad.com), and thought it was pretty revelatory. Before I read this, I didn't believe long distance relationships were workable, and I certainly never wanted to be involved in one. He changed my mind. Props to Aaron!
"I know several people who don’t like long-distance relationships – they are a lot of work and can be a hassle. However, I actually think that there are several benefits to dating from a distance. Talking on the phone or interacting online requires the development of one of the most important variables in a relationship – communication. Without the “distractions” of things to do and places to go, the only thing you have left is what you talk about. Such a heavy emphasis on talking requires diligent work on communicating thoroughly and clearly, establishing expectations and resolving conflicts. From my perspective, if things don’t work long-distance, they likely wouldn’t work living in the same city. That being said, if the relationship is going towards marriage, I recommend that you have a good period of time together in the same city prior to marriage (3-6 months minimum). Though developing good communication is important, it can’t replace that which is learned as you interact in person on a daily basis."
"I know several people who don’t like long-distance relationships – they are a lot of work and can be a hassle. However, I actually think that there are several benefits to dating from a distance. Talking on the phone or interacting online requires the development of one of the most important variables in a relationship – communication. Without the “distractions” of things to do and places to go, the only thing you have left is what you talk about. Such a heavy emphasis on talking requires diligent work on communicating thoroughly and clearly, establishing expectations and resolving conflicts. From my perspective, if things don’t work long-distance, they likely wouldn’t work living in the same city. That being said, if the relationship is going towards marriage, I recommend that you have a good period of time together in the same city prior to marriage (3-6 months minimum). Though developing good communication is important, it can’t replace that which is learned as you interact in person on a daily basis."
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Practicing the Presence
"Sustained communication with God requires restrained conversation with man."
-Mike Bickle
-Mike Bickle
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Wake Me Up
"We are fast asleep and we don't know it... The thing that is dulling this generation is called The Spirit of Religion... The Spirit of Religion settles us into thinking we know something about God when in reality we don't know anything about God. It settles us into a false complacency thinking that we have all these things figured out and I want to tell you when the Spirit of Revelation is in a person's life, they realize that they are at the beginning of the beginning of the beginning of the beginning of the beginning of a shoreless ocean that has yet to be expounded upon. The Spirit of Religion is choking the life from the church because it's settling us into false complacency and we need to go after God waking us up into what reality is."
-Corey Russell
-Corey Russell
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Let Me Fly
A saint's life is like a bow and arrow in the hands of an archer. God is aiming at something the saint cannot see, and He stretches and strains, and every now and again the saint says - "I cannot stand anymore." God does not heed, He goes on stretching until His purpose is in sight, and then He lets fly.
--Oswald Chambers
--Oswald Chambers
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