A Blessed New Year

A 401K

Owning a house

A college fund for your kids

How necessary are these things?

For most of us in middle-class America, they are as common and expected as owning two cars and watching satellite TV. And not that there is anything wrong with these things. What we need to ask ourselves is, "How much importance do they have in our lives?"

That's exactly the question David Platt asks in his book Radical. After reading the book, my husband and I had to admit to ourselves that we too had bought into the idea of the "American Dream." Over the years, we had listened to people's advice and strived to do all the 'right' things. And we worried when people asked us "How are you going to get all your kids through college?" or "Why do you put your money down a hole by renting instead of owning?" Have a portfolio, invest in your future, work your way up the ladder, well-meaning people told us.

But as Platt discusses, as Christians in the U.S., or any country, we should not be looking to our retirement funds for security. What's more important is making an eternal investment in spreading God's kingdom, here and now, and reevaluating how much we really need more stuff or Starbucks in our lives. Oftentimes, we want a fancy new building for our church, or a new outfit for an upcoming wedding, or we simply 'need' a new car. I've actually had to explain to someone why I chose not to buy a "really cute" bag at the store simply because I wanted one. She countered with, "Sometimes you just have to buy yourself something, just for fun!" But I remind myself that $150 could buy me a fancy pair of shoes, or groceries to feed my family for a week. In another country, $150 is a month's salary! 

2013 can be the year of shifting priorities. If every Christian in the U.S. invested more money, time, and prayer to those less fortunate, can you imagine how many hungry people would be fed, how many lonely people would have company, and how many lost sheep  would be found?! 

In the last chapter of Radical (but still read the whole book, it's worth it), Platt offers this challenge:

1) Pray for the entire world (www.operationworld.org is a good resource for that)

2) Read through the whole Bible

3) Sacrifice your money for a specific purpose

4) Spend your time in another context

5) Commit your life to a multiplying community (meaning a good, Christian church family)

Make this year extra-memorable by taking on this challenge, in whole or in part. You will find yourself blessed beyond belief in 2013!

Christmas is...

... making, baking, giving, and receiving.

... hearing my fourteen-month-old make silly sounds with her tongue.

... listening to the rain on my roof.

... watching my boys play Legos together, and eavesdropping on my girls as they sing songs in bed.

... sitting by the little tree with my husband.

... imagining what angels really look like, and if I would really want to see one.

.... pondering on the mystery that is-- 

the mystery of the Father becoming the Child,

the Creator becoming the Created,

the Refuge becoming the Refugee,

the King becoming the Servant,

and Love becoming Despised--

... the mystery that is...

Christmas.

May your Christmas be full of joy and peace.

Yet in Thy Dark Streets Shineth

We tried to go Christmas caroling this evening. I say 'tried' because of the ten houses we could have caroled at, we were successful at only two of them. Of the other eight, three had no lights on, one had a fence that was impassable, another's owner didn't open the door (we saw him taking out his garbage later), and the last three had lights on, but no one answered the door.

The kids and I thought it would be so simple. But it seems that many people are too busy to be home. Or they isolate themselves. And I even hesitated to pass out sugar cookies, thinking that a neighbor might be gluten-free, or diabetic, or dieting, or maybe, dare I say it?-- suspicious. 

But nevertheless, we caroled. We sang outside closed doors and dark windows. We handed out cookies to those we saw. And we understood a little how Jesus felt, coming into a dark world that was ready to reject him, rather than receive him. But nevertheless, He came and offered His gift to everyone, regardless of their openness.

Yet in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting Light;

The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.

~from the carol 'O Little Town of Bethlehem', by Phillips Brooks

(I asked my girls afterwards if they were disappointed, and they said, "No, it was fun." Oh, how I love my kids!)

Sharing Our Joy

It's hard to imagine that only two days ago I was writing about joy.

For the parents who lost their children in the shooting yesterday, joy will be a difficult word to hear. Christmas will be a heart-breaking day. And God will feel so distant.

In no way am I the one to write about 'why bad things happen to good people' or 'how could God let this happen?!' All I know is that as broken people living in a broken world, God is the only source of healing.

Christmas for many is a depressing time. Sad memories from the dim Christmas past grow more focused. Recent pains sting all the more. My little children's choir sang at two assisted living homes on Thursday and Friday, and I loved seeing how our ragtag bunch was able to bring smiles to the seniors' faces for a short thirty-minutes. But then I wonder how many of these seniors will be sitting alone in their wheelchair in front of the television on Christmas day.

I encourage you to rethink your Christmas this year. Traditions and family time are still good, but think about whom you can also include in your festivities: a widowed neighbor, a resident of your local senior home, a family who is going through a hard time. Bring some joy to those people's Christmases, and make new Christmas memories together.

Joy, Joy, Joy!

My original title for this post was 'Scrooge vs. Joy-Boy'.

Joy-Boy is my three-year-old. Though he would win a temper tantrum contest, hands-down, he is also one of the most enthusiastic little people I know. The other day, while I was folding laundry, he found his 'big boy' pants.

"Look, Lightning McQueen!" he shouted.

When he lifted Lightning McQueen out of the basket, who did he find underneath?

"And Thomas!"

The more laundry he removed from the basket, the more surprises he found. I was watching a happy reunion between a boy and his clothes.

"... and bones pants, and rocket pajamas, and...."

Who knew laundry could be so fun?

Joy-Boy is also the one pointing out all the Christmas lights whenever we are in the van. With wonder, he describes everything he sees. 

"Wow! Rainbow lights! And a snowman! Those change colors! Cool!"

Last week, he was so excited, he exclaimed, "I feel like Christmas is on Monday!" And he has been gently pointing out the fact that WE don't have lights on the outside of our house.

Well, who is Scrooge then, you might ask. And if you're a parent, this is an easy one. It's me, of course! And many parents feel the same way.

Christmas has always been my favorite holiday, but the commercialism, the inundation of presents, the stress of celebrating, the obligations of being at so many places on so many days... over the years, it's gotten to me. Right before Thanksgiving, I brace myself for the holiday craziness, and bunker down until it's all over. (parents, I can see you nodding your heads)

Happy sounds fill the air. Glittery, shiny decorations are everywhere I see. We sing 'Joy to the World', but where's MY joy? During this beautiful celebration of our Savior's birth, why am I not celebrating?

Joy-Boy is setting a great example for me to follow. And this year, I'm letting the kids take the lead so I can learn a lesson or two from them. Their enthusiasm about the littlest things, their generosity when it comes to giving, and their great desire to share this joy ("Can we go caroling to our neighbors? Please?!" "Umm, no, because it's nine in the morning!") is rubbing off on me. I feel like the Grinch, looking down on Whoville, and feeling my heart grow within me. And though I can't change how others celebrate Christmas, I can change the way I do it. 

With JOY!

(Tangent: Did I ever tell you that 'enthusiasm' is one of my favorite words? Dissect it down to its Greek roots, and you have en-theos, which means 'in God'. According to Wikipedia, the word 'enthusiast' was originally used to describe "a person possessed by a god." Isn't that wonderful?)

Christmas Quotes

In Him man found God. In Him man finds himself. These were the two things that men had lost; their knowledge of God, and their knowledge of themselves. ~G. Campbell Morgan

This is the story of that almost unbelievable humbling, the life that God lives when He came down from heaven and lived upon earth as a man. In a particular human body, born of a mother belonging to a certain race of people, nearly two thousand years ago in the country of Palestine, God lived and died for us men and for our salvation. The fact of this humility is so glorious that it is beyond human understanding, but the limitations of time and place put a sort of picture frame about the glory, so that we can look at it without being blinded. And we must look at it, because the picture in the frame is the most important thing in this world, or in any other. ~Elizabeth Goudge

Only the stars and mountains knew it. But they were old. And man was new, and chained to simple, useless rhymes; thus he could not understand the majesty that settled down upon him. ~excerpt from The Singer, by Calvin Miller

Jesus said, "I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." If you are reading this, and sense that maybe you are not truly living, I pray that this will be the Christmas when you will find the Source of true life!

For more, click here for last year's Christmas Quotes

Our Favorite Christmas Stories

Our family has read MANY Christmas books over the years, but we have our favorites, stories that we want to read again and again. These are stories that go beyond the shallow, sugary coating of presents and lights and stay with you past Christmas Day and well into the new year; they carry the aroma of Christ, though they may not all mention His name. And what makes them EXTRA special is that we read them only at Christmas time! You can use these titles as a springboard to a new tradition in your family: a new book every year, or read one story a day, or give a copy of your favorite book as a present to another family!

(There are, of course, many more wonderful Christmas stories out there, so this list will be a growing list. And if your family has favorites, please share them with me!)

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson

This is a chapter book for read-aloud or older children, but it's best read together. You'll see Christmas with fresh eyes!

The Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

The old English may be hard, so I recommend reading this aloud, or listening to an audio version of it. But don't think that watching a movie of this story (even the Muppets version... my favorite) is enough. Most adaptations remove Dickens's Christian message.

Christmas Tapestry by Patricia Polacco

A longer picture book that always moves me to tears 

Santa's Favorite Story by Hisako Aoki

A picture book that perfectly combines Santa with the true Hero of Christmas

The Legend of the Candy Cane by Lori Walburg

How that traditional little candy can tell a wondrous story

Great Joy by Kate DiCamillo

A simple, touching story about a girl and a homeless man

More favorites:

Tree of Cranes by Allen Say

Oliver and Amanda's Christmas by Jean Van Leeuwen

Toot and Puddle: Let it Snow by Holly Hobbie

Toot and Puddle: I'll be Home for Christmas by Holly Hobbie

The Wild Christmas Reindeer by Jan Brett

The Christmas Trolls by Jan Brett

(and if you like Jan Brett's books, she has a plethora of Christmas stories: The Night Before Christmas, Who's that Knocking on Christmas Eve? The Twelve Days of Christmas, Home for Christmas)

The Seis-Tres Club, Day 15

It is the last day of our club's trial period. All three of its members had had to deal with sickness in the past two weeks, but all three are all still eager to continue the club.

When I asked Elizabeth what she thought about our club, she said, "I am so thankful for the jump start to spend time with The Lord in a relatively quiet house. My whole day flows so much better when I get up early and put Him first." 

She sums it up so well. I myself have learned much in two weeks.

I have learned that I should not be goal-oriented in my spiritual life. All too easily, my perfectionism turns into legalism. Which means faith loses its meaning.

I have learned that reading the Bible consistently means the words stick. They are in the forefront of my thoughts all day long.

I have learned that I like watching the sun rise.

I have learned that hard things are easier to do with a friend. I don't need to be a Lone Ranger; it is encouraging and healthy to have Christian sisters by my side.

I have learned that I'm in a much better mood in the morning if I wake up before the children, than if I get out of bed only after a child has said, "I'm hungry!" for the third time.

I have learned that being intentional with God in the morning means I am more intentional with my day. My actions and motives are more Christ-centered, and I am more in tune to the voice of the Spirit.

And a surprise bonus-- I no longer hop on the computer first thing in the morning as a way to ease into the day. Because of all of the above, by the time I'm finish with my conversation with God, I'm ready to make breakfast, I'm cheerful when I greet my children "Good morning!", and I'm excited about what lies ahead.

The point is, discipline is good, but like sleep, the good can become bad if I give it too much worth. I need to be seeking God, not a regimen. And give myself flexibility, because, after all, I am not a robot, and neither are my children. But I want to be consistent enough to make this a habit. I want to get to the place where if I miss a morning with God, I get that same unsettling feeling of having gone to bed without brushing my teeth. Because when I wake up to God, He is the foundation of my day, my Rock. Then harsh winds may blow, but I will not be shaken. The floodwaters may rise, but I will walk upon them. The earth may quake, and all around me crumble, but I will still be standing, with my hands raised in praise.

The Seis-Tres Club, Day 14

For those of you wondering what happened to the Seis-Tres Club after my dramatic confession on Day 11... my family has been hit with the cold and flu bug. I myself am not sick, but I am nursing those who are, day and night. And trying to keep the healthy ones entertained during this weekend torrent of rain.

Things always become topsy-turvy at our house when we have illness: meals are served at strange times, messes take on a life of their own, people are grumpy. I've been staying connected with my Seis-Tres Clubbers, but not finding the time to sit with God. And the other downside, I've been forgetting to pray, probably when I need to do it the most. But now that I've typed this, may it serve as a gentle reminder to myself...

Advent is Almost Here!

Christmas at our house looks a little different every year. As children grow older, they participate more in making wrapping paper and gifts and decorating the tree, or in the case of my one-year-old, un-decorating the tree.

But we still have our traditions, and the children now are good about reminding me to get the books wrapped and the Christmas socks hung (and I'm almost done!) With much eagerness, they are anticipating Saturday, the official start of our twenty-five days of celebration!

To read more about our family's Christmas traditions, read my post from last year, Christmas Traditions. And feel free to share your family's traditions with me!

The Seis-Tres Club, Day 11

I totally failed this morning. It's one thing to plan on sleeping in, but another to intentionally not wake when I was supposed to.

When I finally cracked my eyes open, I grabbed my watch. 7:15, it read, which, for many, is still early. But the whole point of these fifteen days was that I woke when my friends woke, and purposefully gave up sleep to have time with God. Fifteen days... a mere fifteen days, and I couldn't do it.

Well, I'll stop beating myself up now. Tomorrow is a new day, with new mercies, thank God. And when it comes time to reassess the future of the Seis-Tres Club, I'll have to decide if I need to wait a bit, or if it's just my flesh being weak.

Addendum: I saw Natalie this afternoon, and she said, "You can't use the word 'fail', because you didn't fail! Instead, count how many days you have had time with God in the past two weeks!" Only, she said it much more eloquently than that and with much more gentleness (in her Natalie way). 

And she's right! It was the perfectionist in me speaking earlier. (and I know there's a post about that somewhere... time to reread my own advice!)

The Seis-Tres Club, Day 9

The baby slept in today! 

But my three-year-old did not. He was up at 6am. Then he proceeded to announce to the world (he is arguably the loudest member of our family) that he needed to go to the bathroom.

I got up to help him (and the baby slept on!) then coerced him to sit with me in the living room, by the light of our Christmas tree.

It was a special moment.

I asked if he wanted a story. He said, "Yes" and started to get up to look for a book.

I stopped him. "No, a story from the Bible," I said.

"What story?" he asked with wonder in his eyes.

I turned to the third chapter of Luke and began to partly read/partly tell the passage about the shepherds meeting the angels. My little boy's eyes grew larger and larger as I told him the amazing tale of shiny, scary beings with a message, a treasure hunt through various stables for a baby, and the discovery of this special, special child named Jesus.

When I was done, my son's face was full of awe and freshness. Oh, to be a child again!

My son soon grew tired of sitting, and he joined his sister on the floor (the older children were creeping out one by one, after being woken up by the loud bathroom announcement). The two played with the nativity set by the foot of the Christmas tree, while I turned back to Galatians 4:16-26, which begins with 'Walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh.' Also in this passage is the fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. How perfect that my children are memorizing this verse this week! And what a perfect reminder that if I simply walk by the Spirit, all these things that I long to have, that I strive so hard to grasp, will come naturally!

The Seis-Tres Club, Day 7

The baby has been consistently waking up at 6:30. My husband says that she just wants to be part of the club.

So, last night, I put the cell phone on the nightstand, and when I woke at 6:20 this morning, I was able to text my fellow clubbers with a "Good morning, lovely friends!" Then I settled back down with the sleeping baby and started my morning with God.

After a few minutes, my husband leaned over and whispered, "Does it count if you're still in bed with your eyes closed?"

"I'm praying," I replied.

"Oh," he said.

This is becoming a family project. I know I'm suppose to go somewhere and be alone with God, but I think it's all too easy to make excuses not to have quiet time. I choose instead to find ways to make it work, even if it means having my husband check up on me. And maybe, it's better that he's checking on me, to make sure I'm not falling asleep!

Anyway, when the baby woke up (promptly at 6:30), I turned on the light and read through Galatians 4 and Colossians 3. What I noticed today was that the infamous verse "Wives, submit to your husbands..." in Colossians 3 is actually only half of a pairing. Paul addresses wives, then immediately turns to talk to the husbands. He continues to talk to children and parents, and slaves and masters. Each and every person is to love as Christ loves. There is no one above another.

The Seis-Tres Club, Day 6

Don't call me 'cheater', but I slept in today (until 7am!)

Natalie and I had agreed that a day of rest would be okay, and after a full week of performances, sick children, a surprise birthday party, Thanksgiving, Christmas tree chopping, and no naps, I think I have rightfully earned it.

But in six days' time I have proved to myself that waking up early is not impossible for me. And I've proved to myself that scheduling something in my day (because I don't often like to run by schedules) can be beneficial. On top of that, my days are more focused and full of intention, I enjoyed an impromptu Bible study with my husband on Friday, and I feel so connected to my friend through our early-morning texts of encouragement.

I'm already looking forward to my sunrise date with God tomorrow!

Giving Thanks

"Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. 

Are you not much more valuable than they?"

~ Matthew 6:26

Have a blessed Thanksgiving holiday!

The Seis-Tres Club, Day 3

Today was hard. After working on the birthday party yesterday and dealing with my daughter's nasty cough at 4am, I couldn't wake up at 6:30.

But I did finally open my eyes at 6:50, only to find myself stuck in bed again with the baby. So, like yesterday, I started my day with prayer, and read from Galatians and Colossians when the baby went down for her morning nap.

And this is what I read:

Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you 

may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.

~Colossians 3:13

What a great reminder as the holidays approach and families gather for sometimes-not-so-joyful times! I'm always amazed at how quickly we can fall back into old roles and bring up old grievances when we are around our families. 

I think I will read this verse everyday between now and the end of the year. Then maybe I will remember to check my tone when annoyance starts creeping into my voice. I will be gracious to those who are not. And I will be a helper and a peacemaker.

The Seis-Tres Club, Day 2

There are two things (besides waking up early) that makes the Seis-Tres Club hard for me:

1) I share a room, and sometimes a bed, with a baby, and getting up without waking a baby is as delicate of a job as diffusing a bomb.

2) My baby is not always predictable. Sometimes she wakes up at 6am, sometimes 7am. 

So this morning, I was actually awake at 6am, because my husband was leaving to have his weekly coffee-with-a-friend and he nudged me awake. But when I tried to sneak out of the bed just to get my Bible, the baby stirred awake. Hurriedly I nursed her back to sleep, but had to forego getting my Bible. I decided praying was just as good!

First, I prayed for my friends in the club. One was actually sick, so she was postponing starting the club with us. For my other friend, I prayed for a strong marriage. Then I prayed for my own marriage, and for my husband who was facing a difficult situation. His spirit has been troubled and weary from dealing with a certain person and the choices that person was making. Lastly, I prayed for each and every one of my children, starting with my oldest. By the time I finished praying for the baby, I saw that she was in deep sleep, and I was able to quickly grab my Bible from the living room couch and read from Galatians and Colossians on the bed.

Lesson today: the key to making this new club work is to be flexible!

It's 10pm now, and I'm ready for sleep. I wish I had something deep to share with you, but I spent the day helping my in-laws throw a surprise 60th birthday party for my mother-in-law. Even so, my quiet time is deep, even if I don't feel like I've gained deep insight. God Himself is deep enough for me.

The Seis-Tres Club, Day 1

Tea bag in mug. Check.

Water in kettle. Check.

Bookmarks in Galatians and Colossians. Check.

Bible and blanket on couch. Check.

Last night, I wanted everything to be ready for when I had to stumble out of bed. Good thing I finally figured out how to program the heat to turn on before 6:30, otherwise it would have been even more difficult this morning. Slipping on my slippers (is that redundant?), I tiptoed to the kitchen, made my tea, texted my friends, "I'm up! and smiling!" and settled down for some wisdom from Paul's letters.

See, this isn't so hard? I thought.

But that's easy to say on Day 1. Wait until Saturday morning rolls around.

I blinked hard a few times to get my eyes to focus on the words in front of me. Paul's letter to the Galatians was written with force and righteous anger... that woke me up.

But my thoughts kept wandering. After a few verses, I started thinking about my friends who were starting this club with me. I prayed that they would be blessed by their time with the Lord. Then I started thinking about my day. I was going to visit my uncle, who had just had surgery to remove cancer from his body. We were not especially close, but his family is the only extended family I have within 2000 miles. I prayed for him and his family, then tried to get back into the Word. I read a few more verses, but my mind drifted again, this time to my sister-in-law. I prayed for her too, then turned my eyes back to the Bible.

My time with God continued on this way until I finished the first chapter of Galatians. Then I read through the first four verses of Colossians 3. I read them again, then again, trying to get the words to stick in my mind.

"...set your mind on things above, not on earthly things..."

I decided that was a good theme for my day.

As I heard the rustling of children waking, I remembered the sweet words of a song sung by the children in church yesterday. Actually, it's a song I wrote, for the small children's choir I'm directing, but I never thought of it as my song. It came to me in pieces as I thought and prayed about what I had been learning from God, and what I wished the children in the choir to learn. The song is really God's song to me, reminding me Who ultimately fulfills me and gives me joy. I sang the song quietly to myself, before rising from the couch to attend to my children. And though I'm blinking wearily at the computer screen now (and it's only 9pm), I did enjoy the start of my morning and how it filled my whole day with the fragrance of God.

Here are the words to the song mentioned above. May they also remind you to fill your day with praise.

I was made to worship You

Take delight in all I do

I was made to praise Your name

As my Maker and my Savior

You alone can feed my soul

Satisfy and make me whole

You alone can know my heart

As my Maker and my Savior

Hallelujah, hallelujah

We praise You, Lord

Hallelujah, hallelujah

We praise You, Lord

Giving Up Sleep

"I have the right to do anything," you say-- but not everything is beneficial. "I have the right to do anything"-- but not everything is constructive.  ~ I Corinthians 10:23 (NIV)

And I add this: even the things that are good become bad, if they have a hold on us that is beyond what God intended. Give a thing too much worth, and you end up worshipping it. (The Old English root of 'worship' is 'weorthscipe'-- to affirm worth.) 

These were my thoughts yesterday morning as I made omelets for my husband and myself.  Yes, heavy thoughts for so early in the day, but while I was cooking, I was also remembering that billions of people in the world had barely enough food to eat that day, and that for many of them, the food they do eat is tasteless and hardly nutritious. And here I am, eating meat and eggs, a variety of vegetables, and coffee cake! Boy, am I spoiled! But boy, do I like a good, delicious breakfast! And what if I had to give it up? Could I do it? Though I know God made food to taste delicious, I also know that He doesn't want me living with a focus on food and its taste. If I do, what God had intended for good becomes bad.

Which brings us to the real topic of this post: sleep. I like sleep. I like it a lot. Especially because I feel like I don't get enough of it. But my friend Natalie wanted someone to do the 'A.M. Club' with her, and I volunteered.

The 'A.M. Club' is for moms who can't find the time during the day to sit quietly with God and His Word. The solution? Get up an hour before the children do. What makes it a club is that you call or text a friend to help each other get out of bed and into the Word.

This is a hard one for me. I had friends try the 'A.M. club' last year, but I wouldn't do it with them. But I also never found a routine of 'quiet time' that worked for me. My days are so busy, that sometimes I go from sun up to sun down without having invited God to come alongside me. (Or better said, without having asked God if I could go alongside Him). 

I think it's time for me to try this 'club' (we are doing a trial run of fifteen days), because maybe I'm giving sleep more worth than it deserves. 

Like I said before, the good becomes bad. 

Tomorrow is our first day. I'll let you know how it goes.

Extravagant Love

I am NOT an engaging conversationalist. Oftentimes, I speak before I think, and I say the wrong thing at the wrong time.
I am NOT a hilarious comedienne. And sometimes I'm too slow to get somebody else's joke.
I am NOT a wise counselor. I want to be an advice-giver, but I am not gifted with discernment and don't always give sound advice.

Oh, I could go on. Everyday, I waste at least five minutes of my life wishing I was more like someone else. Though I am now much more mature than I was ten years ago, or even five years ago, I continue to wrestle with questions about my identity.

"Why did God make me this way?"

"How do I fit into God's kingdom?"

"Why can't I be more like HER?"

But I learned something this past weekend. While researching for a children's book idea and being guests in the home of my friend's grandparents, I learned the secret of being content with myself: take the little I've been given and make much of it. Just as God is extravagant with His love, I can be extravagant with mine. 

Before the trip, I baked pies and cookies to share. 
Once there, I listened with attentive ears and soaked up stories from the past. 
I serenaded my hosts with music on the piano. 
I enjoyed delicious, home-made, German food.
I raked leaves in the backyard and delighted in the beautiful, autumn landscape.
And when I came home, I painted my new friends a painting that reminded me of the dogwood trees in their yard. Inside the card, I will express my abundant thanks for their hospitality and kindness to me and my family.

And through all this, I never once found myself wanting to be someone else. I was enjoying myself so much by focusing on who I was rather than who I was NOT, that I did not waste my time envying others and doubting God.

So, my thirty-fourth birthday was a good one. I am another year older, and I can honestly say that I am another year wiser. And here's to a new year of unexpected joys, abiding contentment, and extravagant love.

Parenting 101

Today, we went to spend our day off from school at my in-laws' house, partly to play, and partly to celebrate my birthday. My children love going there, because Papa and Granny are always very involved with them. All was going well, until naptime rolled around, and today, my three-year-old DID NOT want to nap.

Usually, we would read a story and he would lie down quietly, if not sleep. But today, it was thirty minutes of crying and screaming. When I told him that we would go home if he did not calm down, he only screamed louder, "I WANT TO GO HOME!" And so we got into the car.

Then, after fifteen minutes of reasoning with him because he was yelling, "I WANT TO GO BACK!", I turned the van around to give him one last chance.

But he blew it. And now we're home. And after another twenty minutes of screaming, he's finally asleep.

While I was driving home in the surprisingly-quiet car, tears of frustration welled in my eyes, and I had to ask myself, "But what am I giving up, really?" 

After all, it was only a seven minute drive. And I would return later for my birthday dinner.

I would miss some adult conversation, but I see my in-laws often enough that this wasn't really a big deal.

I liked having others to help with the children, but I left the older ones with Papa and Granny, so I only have two.

Then I realized what it was. My frustration stemmed from the fact that I was forced to give up what I wanted. While trying to convince my son to nap at his grandparents' house for his own sake, I had my own reasons for not wanting to leave. And I didn't get my way.

Between my three-year-old and me, I'm glad to say that he's the only one who acts like a child. But deep down, I think we're not much different. Still, more often than not, I can also say that I am learning to give up my self, in light of what is better for another person. And that is the best lesson a parent can learn.

The Splendor

When I was in high school, I called myself a hedgehog. That's because when I felt overwhelmed by life, I curled up into a little ball and got a bit 'spiky'. Then, after four years on the Berkeley college campus, I became a cynic. I realized this near the end of my fourth year, and intentionally changed my ways.

And now, my thirty-fourth birthday is around the corner. I have grown much, but still have much to learn. The following is a story I wrote as a birthday present to my beautiful sister-in-law, but it is a story about myself.

The Splendor

Once, there was a forest, and in the forest, lived a splendor. Now, you may not know what a splendor is, because few people have ever seen one. Splendors are beautiful, lovely creatures, that, in general, are extremely shy. This may be because they have no shell, no quills, no horns, no claws with which to protect themselves. All they have is iridescent fur that is extremely, exceptionally soft and shiny. But with no form of protection, splendors flinch when lightning strike and thunder rumble, they run when dogs bark and owls hoot, and they hide from people. Which is what our particular splendor did.

Now, on occasion, the splendor would try to go on a short excursion, but then she would stub her toe, or a thorn would catch her skin, sometimes causing a small wound, and she would turn around and run back into her cave. After trying this several times, and each time proving to be a failure, the splendor decided to make for herself a shell.

“I will make for myself a shell!” she said.

And, determined, she took some mud and began forming a wall around herself. The wall went up and up, curving around and over her, until the splendor found herself in a little hollow ball of mud. By pushing a little, the ball rolled, and thus, the splendor went out and explored. Yes, it was difficult to see much through the mud, but the splendor was thrilled when she rolled by the thorns without a scratch. Feeling more confident, she rolled faster and deeper into the forest, but did not see that up ahead was a sharp rock. One bump against a point of the rock, and the splendor’s ball crumbled. The splendor, finding herself exposed once again to the wind, the cold, and thorns of all sorts, scurried home and decided to build for herself another shell.

“I will build for myself another shell,” she said.

And, twice as determined, she did, and this time, the wall of the shell was twice as thick. With pride, she rolled out again, past the thorns, past the rock, and deeper into the forest. Again, she could not see much, so when a bird came along, curious about the rolling, brown ball, the splendor was not aware of the bird’s sharp beak aiming to crack the ball open like a nut. One jab, and the ball crumbled. The bird, shocked by the suddenness of the ball breaking and the brilliance that shone from within the curious brown thing, flapped away. And the splendor, afraid and trembling, was again exposed to the elements. She hurried home faster than before, crying in fear and bleeding from scratches, and hid for a long time.

Only when everything in the forest was quiet, still and silent did the splendor emerge. She decided then that what she needed was a new shell. This shell would be thicker than all the shells that came before it. This shell would be muddier than all the shell that came before it. And this shell would be stronger.

“Nothing can penetrate my shell,” said the splendor as she rolled out into the forest anew. 

And she was right. No thorn, no rock, no bird could break the ball. No wind, no plant, no animal could stop the ball. The splendor rolled and rolled, rolling right over other creatures, leaving little spots of mud on everything. Soon, all creatures learned to avoid the splendor. They ran when they saw the giant ball of mud rolling toward them. That is, everyone but one person. And this person did not happen to bump into the splendor. This person went in search of the splendor. And when he found her, he gently lifted the ball of mud and held it in his arms. The splendor, feeling the rolling motion of the ball stop, did not know what was happening, nor did she know that the person had carried her to a stream and was washing away the layers and layers of mud. Even as the clear water of the stream turned murky brown, the person did not stop, not until he had washed away all the layers. Then, in his soiled hands, he held the splendor. He gently washed the dirt from his hands and from the splendor’s fur until she once again shone with soft colors. And then, she lifted her head to see who held her.

“Why did you do this?” she asked.

The person answered, “Because your beauty cannot be seen when hidden by a shell and covered by mud.”

“But, sir,” the splendor said, “I did it to protect myself.”

“Yes, I know,” he replied, “in a world full of thorns, rocks, birds, and people, you cannot avoid pain. But you must learn that, though you will be hurt, it is more important to let your beauty shine.”

“But,” he added, as he placed her on the ground, “it is your choice.”

And the splendor, though she was still at times shy or frightened, never again made for herself a shell. And she never forgot what the person said about her beauty.

What Ever Happened to Self-Censorship?

I knew I once wrote that I would not use this blog for ranting, but how can I express to you the anger I feel right now? 

Let me tell you what happened yesterday.

As I drove to Costco with my children, our van stopped at a red light. Across the street was a store that, I guess, sold motorcycles and other bike accessories. My oldest son looked out his car window and read the name of the store, then asked about the words above the store's name.

"I know what bikes are, and I know what rock 'n' roll is, but what is sex?" he asked.

The store thought it was so witty to advertise its image as 'sex, bikes, and rock 'n' roll'.

My most thoughtful answer at the time was, "Let me think about the best way to explain it, and I'll get back to you." Then, when I had a chance, I told my husband about the incident, and we both agreed that we could not shield our son from that kind of vulgarity anymore, and that it would be better for him to learn about sex from us, than from a peer or other adult.

I understand the argument about free speech, but I do think we need some censorship. But what made me angry was that the store could not censor itself. It was prominently located on a major street, near residential neighborhoods, and it still chose to promote more than bikes on its store front. Gone are the days when people watched their language in the presence of children. Gone are the days when certain topics of conversation were deemed inappropriate when women were present. Now it's 'do what sells' on our magazine covers, store windows, and commercials. And as more of my children are learning to read, and are becoming aware of the images around them, I have to be more careful.

I know I can't guard my children for the rest of their lives, but I do want to preserve their innocence for as long as I can. I want them to learn about the realities of life when they are ready, and I want them to learn about life as God intended it to be, not the way the world shouts it out to be.