30 seconds after I walked into Kimbo's house last night, Creth was singing me a song about monkeys in a tree complete with swinging hip motions and a giant snapping alligator clapping motion -- all five verses!
Sitting down to dinner a few minutes later, this conversation begins ...
Creth: Miss Christine?
Me: Yes, Crethy?
Creth: What's your name?
Me: Kristen
Creth: Oh yeah! ... Miss Christine, you know how we're 'posed to give something up for um ... uh ... till Easter?
Me: Yes
Creth: Wull, um, (dancing beside my chair throughout the entire exchange), I'm giving up my friend Berkely across the street 'cause she's mean!
This was said with a decisive nod of his head. I did my dead level best to keep a straight face, but failed miserably. Kimbo finally put me out of my misery and told me it was okay to laugh. I cracked up, and Creth stood there beside my chair smiling proudly at his own cleverness. Then, the conversation continued:
Me: Creth, how long has it been since you've seen Berkley?
Creth: Uh, I don't know, a few days?
Me: Didn't Lent start last week?
Creth: Yeah, but last week I gave up spankings.
My eyes immediate swing back to Kimbo for confirmation. She says, "Yeah, it worked great until he got in trouble. He was sitting in the chair waiting for his dad to come get him, screaming, 'BUT I GAVE UP SPANKINGS!!!" at the top of his lungs." Guess, he didn't realize mom and dad hadn't given them up!
I love this kid!
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Words That Are Rockin' My World Today
A coworker dropped a set of books by my office today with the comment, "If you can use these, find a place for them, otherwise, trash them!" So, an hour or so later when my computer crashed and I had to wait for it to reboot, I began reading the introduction. The book is Establishing a Church-based Welfare-to-Work Mentoring Ministry: A Practical 'How To' Manual by Dr. Amy L. Sherman. In just the first four pages, here is some of the treasure I've found ...
"God is passionate for the poor and commands His disciples to imitate that passion and be His hands and feet of mercy to the needy."
"We become a visible, tangible demonstration of the reality and power of God when we imitate the Lrod Jesus' compassion for the poor, weak, and broken."
"...the spiritual health of our congregations will be enriched through our engagement with needy families."
"...when we allow ourselves to be touched with the brokenness and pain experienced by our needy neighbors, then an oh-so-needed 'holy discontent' can begin to grow within us.
"It is a wonderful gift to be reminded of our inadequacy, for God has told us that it is when we are weak that Christ's strength is perfected in us."
"There is an immediacy and an urgency about poor people's relationship to God that we can learn much from."
On the Bible as a "recipe for life": "The world can't smell a recipe; they smell fresh baked bread ... When the world sees us ministering to hurting people the way Jesus Christ did, then it smells the Bread of Life."
"God is passionate for the poor and commands His disciples to imitate that passion and be His hands and feet of mercy to the needy."
"We become a visible, tangible demonstration of the reality and power of God when we imitate the Lrod Jesus' compassion for the poor, weak, and broken."
"...the spiritual health of our congregations will be enriched through our engagement with needy families."
"...when we allow ourselves to be touched with the brokenness and pain experienced by our needy neighbors, then an oh-so-needed 'holy discontent' can begin to grow within us.
"It is a wonderful gift to be reminded of our inadequacy, for God has told us that it is when we are weak that Christ's strength is perfected in us."
"There is an immediacy and an urgency about poor people's relationship to God that we can learn much from."
On the Bible as a "recipe for life": "The world can't smell a recipe; they smell fresh baked bread ... When the world sees us ministering to hurting people the way Jesus Christ did, then it smells the Bread of Life."
Mercy is a voluntary sorrow that joins itself to the suffering of another ~ Gregory of Nyssa
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
I Like Rules
I like rules. I never realized how much I like rules. But, I do. I like them. I like to know exactly where the line is, so that I know if or when I'm crossing it. I like to draw neat, clean lines and show them to others so they know if and when they're crossing them, too. Rules make things simple, straightforward, uncomplicated.
I don't like messes. When life gets messy, I fight an urge to run the other direction ... a strong urge.
Every day, in my job, I work with people whose lives are messy. Some of the messiest I've ever seen. It is often tempting to make rules and draw lines for them (generally, around myself) to keep things from getting any more complicated than they already are. But, real life relationships with people don't work well like that. It's very difficult to truly impact a life from a safe distance away. This truth frustrates me, honestly. I'd like things to be simpler. But you know what? When it's easy, it's never nearly as much fun as when you fight for it. So, while I'd prefer for there to be hard and fast rules for dealing with messy people, I'm learning that most rules are made to be bent if not broken. Life is not about rules but about people, about hearts. Hearts that have been broken and need to be healed. Rules don't heal. Grace and mercy, they bring healing. So, as much as I like rules, I'm working on trading in my love of rules for some extra measures of those ... grace and mercy.
I don't like messes. When life gets messy, I fight an urge to run the other direction ... a strong urge.
Every day, in my job, I work with people whose lives are messy. Some of the messiest I've ever seen. It is often tempting to make rules and draw lines for them (generally, around myself) to keep things from getting any more complicated than they already are. But, real life relationships with people don't work well like that. It's very difficult to truly impact a life from a safe distance away. This truth frustrates me, honestly. I'd like things to be simpler. But you know what? When it's easy, it's never nearly as much fun as when you fight for it. So, while I'd prefer for there to be hard and fast rules for dealing with messy people, I'm learning that most rules are made to be bent if not broken. Life is not about rules but about people, about hearts. Hearts that have been broken and need to be healed. Rules don't heal. Grace and mercy, they bring healing. So, as much as I like rules, I'm working on trading in my love of rules for some extra measures of those ... grace and mercy.
... because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death. For what the law was powerless to do in that it was weakened by the sinful nature,God did by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful man to be a sin offering.And so he condemned sin in sinful man,in order that the righteous requirements of the law might be fully met in us, who do not live according to the sinful nature but according to the Spirit.
Romans 8:2-4
Saturday, February 20, 2010
You Don't Grow Weary
Today, I am in awe of how God continues to make the most familiar things new.
Last night, I was in the middle of a worship service, singing a very familiar song about strength arising when we wait upon the Lord, when I was suddenly completely taken with the line that says, "You do not faint; you won't grow weary."
You know what kills a relationship faster than anything for me? Weariness. I am not a patient or long-suffering person, and I am easily wearied by others needing something from me. (What's particularly crazy about that is how much I like to feel needed in the beginning - something to analyze at another time!) This is not something I am proud of or pleased with, but it is true. And, because it's true of me, I am very guilty of assuming it is true for everyone else, including God.
You see, I'm a great projector. I am quick to magnify and project whatever I'm thinking or feeling, particularly about myself, onto those around me. So, when I'm weary of others, -- or worse yet, when I'm weary of myself -- it is so easy for me to assume that everyone else, especially God who sees and knows ALL is weary of me and my junk, too.
And, logically, when I've determined that someone is weary of me, I seek to remedy that by pulling away from them, making myself scarce for a time, giving them the space they haven't asked for. :-/
So, having been frustrated with my own shortcomings lately, I've been giving God some space from me, offering Him a break from my incessant neediness of Him. No, He didn't ask for that space, but I figured I'd give it to Him anyway.
Then, last night, I sang those words in an auditorium full of worshiping women. "You do not faint/ You won't grow weary." Sheesh! It was as if I was hearing it for the very first time. Clear as day, something deep in my spirit spoke up, affirming that lyric:
Last night, I was in the middle of a worship service, singing a very familiar song about strength arising when we wait upon the Lord, when I was suddenly completely taken with the line that says, "You do not faint; you won't grow weary."
You know what kills a relationship faster than anything for me? Weariness. I am not a patient or long-suffering person, and I am easily wearied by others needing something from me. (What's particularly crazy about that is how much I like to feel needed in the beginning - something to analyze at another time!) This is not something I am proud of or pleased with, but it is true. And, because it's true of me, I am very guilty of assuming it is true for everyone else, including God.
You see, I'm a great projector. I am quick to magnify and project whatever I'm thinking or feeling, particularly about myself, onto those around me. So, when I'm weary of others, -- or worse yet, when I'm weary of myself -- it is so easy for me to assume that everyone else, especially God who sees and knows ALL is weary of me and my junk, too.
And, logically, when I've determined that someone is weary of me, I seek to remedy that by pulling away from them, making myself scarce for a time, giving them the space they haven't asked for. :-/
So, having been frustrated with my own shortcomings lately, I've been giving God some space from me, offering Him a break from my incessant neediness of Him. No, He didn't ask for that space, but I figured I'd give it to Him anyway.
Then, last night, I sang those words in an auditorium full of worshiping women. "You do not faint/ You won't grow weary." Sheesh! It was as if I was hearing it for the very first time. Clear as day, something deep in my spirit spoke up, affirming that lyric:
Do you not know?
Have you not heard?
The LORD is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
and his understanding no one can fathom.
Have you not heard?
The LORD is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
and his understanding no one can fathom.
Isaiah 40:28
I sunk down in my seat, grabbed a pen, and jotted down the following thoughts:
You do not grow weary.
- not weary of me.
- not weary of my needs.
- not weary of my failure.
- not weary of my exhaustion
- not weary of my cries, my prayers, my petitions.
- not weary of my burdens
- not weary of my questions.
You. do. not. grow. weary.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Counting Well
I have a new blog love. www.oddlyspecific.com Yesterday, they posted this ...
And the caption with it read, "When I die, I hope I’m remembered for more than my taste in plants." Me, too!
On Wednesday, I think I read the most chilling words I have yet to find in scripture. As the terribly sad (and disgusting!) story of a wicked king named Jehoram comes to a close, 2 Chronicles 21 has this to say about him. "And he departed with no one's regret."
Both of these radically different sources have had my thoughts in a funk this week. I am a firm believer in beginning with the end in mind. I have a short but serious list that I hope people remember about me, and I'm doing my best to work toward that goal every day. Sometimes, my fear of dying without clearly communicating those things shakes me to the core.
Sadder still is the thought of wasting my life, living so selfishly that when I'm gone, there would be no one who'd miss me.
Yet, just when I've got myself totally worked up about the prospect of such tragedies, I hear the Psalmist speak from Psalm 90:12, "Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom," and I am reminded that I would do well to ask this very thing of the Lord today for myself.
And the caption with it read, "When I die, I hope I’m remembered for more than my taste in plants." Me, too!
On Wednesday, I think I read the most chilling words I have yet to find in scripture. As the terribly sad (and disgusting!) story of a wicked king named Jehoram comes to a close, 2 Chronicles 21 has this to say about him. "And he departed with no one's regret."
Both of these radically different sources have had my thoughts in a funk this week. I am a firm believer in beginning with the end in mind. I have a short but serious list that I hope people remember about me, and I'm doing my best to work toward that goal every day. Sometimes, my fear of dying without clearly communicating those things shakes me to the core.
Sadder still is the thought of wasting my life, living so selfishly that when I'm gone, there would be no one who'd miss me.
Yet, just when I've got myself totally worked up about the prospect of such tragedies, I hear the Psalmist speak from Psalm 90:12, "Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom," and I am reminded that I would do well to ask this very thing of the Lord today for myself.
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