The Biggest Piece

I was sitting at a baseball game for one of our boys last week and chatting with my mom, who had come to watch the game. She shared with me about a dream she'd had the night before. In the dream, she was with an extended family member of ours who has recently moved to another city, and they were visiting a church in the area. As they were celebrating the Lord's Supper and my mom's turn came, there were only crumbs left and she felt like she couldn't partake.  We smiled at the odd course that dreams often take. The next day, as our church celebrated the Lord's Supper and I sat next to our 8-year-old, the  dish of unleavened bread came down our row. Just like he always does, Derrin took a few seconds to survey the contents and pick the largest piece he could find. This one was particularly big. (I wonder if the deacons do that on purpose for kids like Derrin?)

He proceeded to whisper, too loudly, about the really big piece he got, and then he did the same with the tray of grape juice cups. He picked the one most full and let me hold it to prevent a purple spill, which has happened one too many times. We ate the bread and drank from the cup. It was good. The bread of forgiveness. The cup of new life gained through Jesus' suffering. A Good Friday celebration that comes to us again and again throughout the year. Solemn and sobering. Burden-lifting. Spirit renewing, even in the company of a squirmy, talkative child .

As many of us have reflected here at Good Dirt Families, it is the child who leads us. And the grandparent too. We want the biggest piece of Jesus we can get. We want to stop and survey the situation, and then choose carefully. We can't help but tell the one next to us in a loud voice about what we've found.

No, crumbs won't do. Being new and showing up only to find there's not enough--that scenario just doesn't fit the abundant life Jesus died to provide. How great to imagine each of us, like an 8-year-old, being intentional, selecting carefully  from this smorgasbord of life, eyeing Jesus, reaching for Him, and taking all we can get.  O Bread of Life, may it be so.

"Still Good" Saturday : Quiet, Alone, Time with God

When I was a kid, my mom rarely cooked a meal on Saturday. First, it was our day to clean house and she was too tired to cook; and second there were leftovers in the fridge. Still, every Saturday my brother would ask what we were having to eat and my mother would reply, "Skip its." At this point both of us would head to the fridge and stare into that endless abyss paroozing over it's contents. Some items we ignored like macaroni and tomatoes and salmon patties. The first time around they are great! But reheated the macaroni turns to rubber, and the salmon has the smell and consistency of something the dog threw up.  Skip it. Some items we fought of over like meatloaf with corn. My Dad swears meatloaf is best on the third day. Slice it and put it on toasted bread and you'll think you're a king. Still good. Any soups and stews were considered still good.  Beans and cornbread were a staple of my childhood and we could eat them for a week. Never goes bad. Still good.  Add ketchup to the beans and honey to the cornbread and a whole new meal appears. Still good.

I will never forget the time my brother and I were peering into the frigid abyss and spotted leftover cherry cheese cake. This is a family favorite and finding it was like finding gold. My brother grabbed it and headed to the table, unfortunately the constitution of the pie pan gave way and the whole thing fell to the floor. We locked eyes for few seconds. Panic and sadness echoed between us. Our thoughts must have shot back to our previous task of cleaning the kitchen floor (it was Saturday) and we declared simultaneously, "Still good."  We scooped it up in the pan that now looked like a silver taco shell, took it to the table and ate it. Still good.

For the next few weeks we'll post some blogs that have previously been run over at www.Renovare.org. These are some "still good," topics that might be helpful to think about again.

Solitude: Quiet, Alone, Time with God

I’m sure it started with a smirky look and words with tone. But the fight was on. Two sibling daughters throwing down over a Lego. Yes, a Lego. I was upstairs buried alive by laundry, when the commotion filtered up to me through the floor. As I rounded the banister, in a mad dash to save the dueling darlings, or maybe just to see who would survive, I heard the crash of broken glass.

Getting to the bottom of this was going to be no picnic. It was a barrage of “she started it”s and “it wasn’t my fault”s. So I banished them to the outer regions of time-out. The little one, the instigator of all words with tone, snatched a book off the coffee table as she went sulking to jail.  It’s her favorite, a book of Psalms for children by Marie-Helen Delval, great stuff for the beginning reader. Usually there are no books in time-out, or anything fun, but this day I let it go.

After both girl folk had paid their debt to society and were let out of perpetual nothingness the little one said, “Wow- I needed that.” With my mouth agape, and an eldest sister eye roll, I questioned the why of that statement. “You know when you just need some quiet, alone, by yourself time with God, and you don’t get it- you can go crazy.”

My people went on their merry way and forgot all about that stray Lego. But as my days wind up and wind down and my looks get smirky and I use words with tone, I must admit her words stick. Without a regular dose of solitude, quiet, alone time with God- I do get crazy.

How about you? What are some ways you can carve out some quiet, alone, time with God for your littlest people?

How about some of that time for yourself?

Rotten Apples in this Basket

When we were waiting for our son to come along, my husband and I agreed that we wouldn’t immerse ourselves in all the parenting books that are available out there. We didn’t want the confusion that is inevitable with so much conflicting advice and felt that our time would be better spent elsewhere. Looking back, I’m really grateful for that intentional move because I’m quite heavily influenced by what I read. And recently our Good Dirt devotions have been cutting me to the quick.  

You know how parents are told to make sure to shape their child’s attitude so that their behavior is just right so that their lives will turn out perfectly? (Even in Kingdom Living, we find ourselves losing track and aiming for ‘perfect’, so bear with me here) And you know how no matter what you say to your child, what you do is about the only thing they’ll actually pick up? Well, I’ve been doing my math lately and concluded that my poor son has little hope of ever being perfect. Not because of his attitude or behavior……but because of mine.

We came across some evening questions recently that went something like this: “How did you work with God today? What kind of good did you spread?” Good Dirt – Kingdomtide

I had allowed a dark cloud to remain over my head the whole day that affected every behavior and decision. So would you believe, I actually skipped over those questions and didn’t ask them? I didn’t ask them because I didn’t want to answer them. I didn’t want to consider them. The very thought of examining my own attitude and trying to answer how I (hadn’t) worked with God that day made me feel narcoleptic. Sleeping is an effective way of hiding. I really wanted to just sleep it off and wake up to a new day. In fact, I did. And of course I found that the new day required the same humility and repentance of me.

And then I saw this on the opposite page: “Tell about a time today when it was difficult to tell the truth.” (Stop it! Just stop!)

Isn’t it such a wonderful thing that bad attitudes and a refusal to work with God are redeemed at the cross?

“Lord, my heart turns toward you in repentance. Please transform my indignant attitude into a flexible one – one that works with You. Help my eyes to remain focused on You and not to look for an alternative goal. Thank you for drawing me to Yourself. I rejoice in You!”

If you need some time to reflect on the Grace and pursuing Love of God, take a long, quiet moment to read through Psalm 139. I’m writing that here so I can remember where to go when I need to turn my attitude around tomorrow. I’m glad I’m heavily influenced by what I read.

-Tamara

Margin Making

This summer I have been about the work of making margin. My life was feeling overstuffed. Like a balloon that had too much air; like when you know in your soul that one more puff of air would be one too many.  And you know what they say, "It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye." (My husband also says, "Your nose is not a pocket," but that's for another discussion.) Since there are only so many hours in a day, I had to let go of some things. I began to write in my journal each evening, recording those things that were sucking the life out of me. Not the things that left me tired, but the things that gave me little life. After a month of listening here's my partial list. (I only share it because you might find these things on your list, too.)

I'm letting go of the work of managing my image. Trying to manage what people think of me is exhausting. (And truly it's a facade, people are not things, they can't be managed. They can be loved, but won't put up with management for long.)

I'm letting go of worry. If the very worst I can imagine actually happens; still I am never abandoned. I am never alone. God is with me and his resources are endless. As Dallas Willard used to say, "The universe is a perfectly safe place to be," and this is true because God is always with me. I have nothing to fear.

I'm letting go of outcomes. It's a humble act to do so, and I'm growing into it. To release outcomes is to admit the limit of my reach, the end of strength and influence. It's to actually rely on the Holy Spirit and put a stop to the smoke and mirrors of perceived control.

None of these things can be released by sheer will. But they can be replaced with things that create space instead of fill it. Here's a short practical list of replacements that were helpful for me.

• Add a time of silent prayer with no agenda. Once when I wake up, and once before I go to bed. Just be in God's Presence. Bring my attention to him and smile. For a few minutes-- smile, and know with certainty he smiles back. (The key to this is longevity. Benefit is found in taking the long road. Do this everyday for a month and then "see how it's going.")
• Listen to my children and spouse, completely, all the way through to the end of what they have to say. Take a deep breath, and breath a prayer before I answer. I have heard it said that "Who we are at home is-- who we are."
• Give up media (especially FB) for a set period of time.  At the end, reflect on how it made me feel. I asked the people who live with me how it changed my behavior. (I refuse to tell you what they said.)
• Reflect on my motives behind my commitments. (This one required courage.) Ask why I (examples are not all are applicable to me)-- teach Sunday School, serve on the school board, parent a certain way, read my Bible...) Bring my motives to God. Then I try to be honest and look and see if the source was image management, worry or concern with outcomes.

I have been about this work before and I'm awfully glad to enter in intentionally this summer, again. But I suspect I will be about this work for the rest of my life.

Making margin has yielded big wide open spaces. I have stepped away from some things, found the courage to change others. I have found space enough to love my neighbors in practical ways when they need it. Space enough to listen to my daughter's concerns about adulthood. Space enough to throw a baseball with my ten-year old who desperately wants to learn to pitch. Space enough to cry with a friend through past hurts. Space enough to confront my sin. Space enough to hear God smile and smile back.

How are you making margin these days?

*The book Margin Richard A. Swenson, M.D. has been a great help.

*Lastly, I struggled with the transparency of this post. Letting readers in on a little bit of my own "crazy" is risky. I'm drawing courage from one of my favorite Saints. It is said of Columcille (also known as Saint Columba of Iona) that he "is the archetype of the 'peregrinatus',the wandered or pilgrim who abandons security for a journey which is extremely costly, and yet whose reward is ultimately everlasting life." -taken from the Wisdom of Saint Columba of Iona

Sabbath Moments

Our pastor is doing a series about the 10 commandments this summer. Our children's curriculum is following that series so the entire family hears the same thing each week. A few weeks ago was our turn to teach the kids. We even got to choose which commandment we wanted to teach on. We thought teaching the Sabbath would be easy...but to children? As we thought about it...do no work...rest...take time to do nothing and reflect...we thought about our kids...WHO DO NOTHING! Haha... don't take that the wrong way. Our kids have and do chores. They have animals that they care for. They maintain their own rooms. They do things for our elderly grandparents. But not without being asked. Not without direction to do so. If we let our kids just go for a day they will find random devices to play on or jump on the trampoline for hours or draw/write in their rooms or just plain play/waste the day away. It irritated me that I was thinking my kids whole lives are Sabbath! So we thought and pondered some more.  This is not a direction given to adults only. My kids have relationships with God so it is as much for them as for me. So what did we learn in trying to teach kids about keeping a Sabbath?

1. It does not have to be a certain day.

2. Kids are great Sabbath keepers. They are not bound up in the busy busy American lifestyle. They live to relax and recharge.

3. I need to watch and learn from them...there is a time for everything. A time to play, a time to dance, a time to clean, a time to let it go!

4. During certain times of the year Sabbath moments are all we can get. My kids are busy during school and more relaxed in the summer...my schedule is always full but I can find a moment to redirect my thoughts to Jesus.

5. Sabbath is not just a relax and do no work day. It is a set aside (holy) time to reflect on Jesus and HIS work and worth in our lives.

6. Kids know how to relax but need to be trained (as we all do) to be intentional about focusing on Jesus.

7. Some of my favorite Sabbath moments are...

a. Late afternoon (almost) every day Mike and I sit down together and have a glass of something and just be...if only for a few minutes.

b. I love to hang out laundry. I have been known to work from the outside in on my round clothesline. It is peaceful and smells like Jesus in the middle of that circle

c. Music...dancing with my people...pretending we are the band...singing in the kitchen

d. Mowing the lawn

e. Going to the mountains, beach, forest, canyon, lake, anywhere natural where again you can smell Jesus and see just how creative he is

f. Just that 5 minutes before we fall asleep.

I could go on and on because this taught us to look for and appreciate those moments. Those moments where we can make it an intentional Sabbath. We want to teach our kids that "down time" can be productive in our relationship with Jesus and to the kingdom of God.  So Happy Sabbath Friday!

Today

Sometimes life knocks the wind out of me! I have had a few of those weeks recently. But as Elizabeth Elliott says "just do the next thing." So we get up and go to work and fix dinner and laugh and play and cry. Then after some time goes by I see there needs to be more intentionality on my part to be forgiving. I heard Joyce Meyer say one time that "Bitterness is like drinking poison and expecting someone else to die." Unforgiveness turns to bitterness in my heart if I don't diligently dig it out. It becomes a cross to bear. It becomes a power trip I have to sustain. It becomes a noose around my neck squeezing the life out of my entire self. I see it affecting my life outside of my own body too. I see that my fruits are drying up. I see my relationships squelched. I hear my words become harsh. So I go to the cross! I wait expectantly to hear from God and He never lets me down! So this is what I read...

Galatians 5 (paraphrased from The Message) 

"When you attempt to live by your own plans and projects, you are cut off from Christ, you fall out of grace. You wait for a satisfying relationship with the Spirit...what matters is faith expressed in love! You were doing well...you let (unforgiveness) deflect you from the true course of obedience. This doesn't come from God. DO NOT think this is insignificant. It only takes a very small amount of yeast to permeate an entire loaf of bread. ... It is absolutely clear that God has called you to a free life. Don't use this freedom as an excuse to do (or think or feel or act) whatever you want to do and destroy your own freedom. Use your freedom to serve one another in love...that is how freedom grows. ... Live freely, animated and motivated by God's Spirit then you won't feed the compulsions of selfishness. There is a root of sinful self interest in us that is at odds with a free spirit. So choose to be led by the Spirit and so escape the erratic compulsions of a law dominated existence."

Now granted that's a lot of paraphrasing... but all in all it is saying to me if I choose to not forgive I am being selfish and binding myself to a feeling and choosing to remain in a position of hurt and anger, and it WILL infect other areas of my life. I may be justified... my pain and hurt is very real... but I can not use my freedom as an excuse to hold onto that because Jesus says to let it go! MY freedom is killed by MY right to hold it.  If I forgive then I am freeing myself from having to have any control over that pain or  issue. Forgiveness allows me to minister the fruits of God's amazing Spirit.

To think of living freely, animated and motivated by God spirit reminds me that I can tap into an incredible force. The same force that created me and the world and frogs and stars.  Forgiveness is for me, for my freedom, for my relationship with God, for my interaction with others. I love the last line that choosing to be led by the Spirit is to escape the erratic compulsions of law domination. The law is full of retribution and consequences but faith expressing itself in love is totally opposed to that way of thinking. It is freeing to me because I don't have to carry it. It allows me to be the best image of God that I can be while anything and everything goes on around me. It keeps me in perfect peace when my heart is steadfast.

So today...TODAY...I will forgive and leave those hurts with Jesus. Tomorrow I will do it again, until it is natural or until I meet Jesus face to face and it just doesn't hurt anymore.

The Real Beauty of It All

Every summer our family spends a week with extended family, where about 14 of us gather in one big cabin in a small, mountain town to play, sleep, and eat together. We watch hummingbirds from the kitchen window, walk many times a day down dirt roads to visit the lake, throw rocks in the river, and catch fish. It's a slice of idyllic life and a time we look forward to all year.

This past week we spent the 4th of July together in this spot, and in the flurry of packing I forgot to include our copy of Good Dirt.

We have nine kids between the three families, ranging in age from 7 to 19. Several are teenagers, and last week as we got two or three days into the week some of them were needing to slow down and consider their words and their attitudes. It seemed apparent that even in idyllic locations we all need the Word and the Spirit of God to speak and guide our living. Even vacation days and cousin time need the breath of Life we get only from time with God.

So, Aunt B. pulled out my Bible and got the attention of the kids who were still having breakfast at the table and those who were in the adjacent family room, sprawled on couches and the floor. "Hey guys, it's devotion time!"

With no Good Dirt, my mind turned to the letter of 2 Timothy, which was the book our church had been focusing on in a Bible reading plan we were doing together.

"Who knows who wrote the book of 2 Timothy? And who knows where he was when he wrote the book? Who was Timothy and why was Paul writing this letter?" We talked about all these background details and then read chapter 1.

For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline. (2 Timothy 1:7)

The little kids knew this verse. Where did they learn it? VBS last summer! It was the theme verse and they remembered. We all talked about how God's Spirit supplies us with these important qualities--power, love, and self-discipline.

And then,

Of this gospel I was appointed a herald and an apostle and a teacher. That is why I am suffering as I am. [Yes, Paul was in prison and heading toward death, we had reviewed together.] Yet I am not ashamed, because I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him for that day. (2 Timothy 1:11-12)

My sister and I broke into chorus of that hymn we'd grown up singing, containing that last verse, word for word. And then we read on to chapter 2:

Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly handles the word of truth. Avoid godless chatter, because those who indulge in it will become more and more ungodly. ...

In a large house there are articles not only of gold and silver, but also of wood and clay; some are for special purposes and some for common use. Those who cleanse themselves from the latter will be  instruments for special purposes, made holy, useful to the Master and prepared to do any good work.  (2 Timothy 2:15-16, 20-21)

We talked about what it means to be holy, to belong to God and to live differently than some others in the world live.  And then we prayed together. One of the teens volunteered to lead us.

We probably spent fifteen minutes talking and reading. Not a real long time. But I realized something that morning. Because our immediate family has been reading the Bible and Good Dirt these last six months, that time with the kids felt easy and natural for me as a parent. I didn't need Good Dirt to prompt the questions or set the agenda for our reading. And I wasn't worried about what to do or say with the kids. It all flowed pretty easily.

I think that is the ultimate goal of Good Dirt. Lacy and Ben haven't said it in so many words, but isn't the best part of a devotional like this the way it helps us as families enter into God's Word together and let God form us, most of all through the prompting of the Spirit? The way we learn to spend time in the Word and with Jesus together so much more readily and naturally, no matter where we are or who is with us?

Thank you, God, for the beauty you bring to our lives when your Word enters us and colors our days. Your beauty surpasses all.

Glad Places

I've just returned home from bringing two of our boys to church camp for the week. Our other son is already away for a second week of training for a children's evangelism ministry he's taking part in this summer. And so, the house is quiet. We brought a neighbor boy and two neices along to camp, and all the way home as I drank in the blue Colorado sky with forests of evergreen and aspen, roadside streams and meadow flowers stretching mile after mile, I thought about each of the kids and each of their little personalities and passions, their gifts and their callings.

We read Good Dirt and the Bible this morning after final packing, and the passage we read from Luke 20 talked about a vineyard and unfaithful workers who mistreated all the  servants sent by the owner of the vineyard to bring back fruit. They even killed the owner's son.

"Instead of drawing the unfaithful workers, draw a picture of you working with God in his vineyard," Good Dirt instructed the boys. "How do you feel to be working with God? How does God feel to have you working with him."

And this drawing above is what my 8-year-old sketched very quickly. A big God and a small boy, working together in a vineyard, with God's response about how he feels to have Derrin working with him--an  imperfectly spelled "PERFECT!"

As I drove today I thought about my own process as a girl and young woman of learning who I was and learning how my growing passion for God could best be lived out in this life He'd given me. I remember road trip vacations as a child when we listened to a couple cassette tapes of country music over and over and over to pass the time--and how I realized later that this style of music, though my parents' favorite, definitively  was not "me." I remember my dad's encouragement toward the study of law as I entered college, and how I wrestled with his prompting but determined I wasn't created for this profession. Just two random examples, but they remind me that my kids, and each child I know and love, is created to meet God in particular ways and to work alongside God in ways fitting so rightly for him or her.

I pray this week that my two boys at camp, and my teenager sharing the Gospel with kids, will keep learning who they are and how they can best meet God. I pray they experience ways of loving God and worshiping him where they're at this week that fit who they are. And I pray they learn just a little more about how God has formed each of them to work with him in his vineyard.

Jesus talked so often about bearing fruit, about loving in action with God's love. I know my kids pretty well, but God knows them intimately in a way I never will fully know them. I pray that Mike and I can be parents and aunt and uncle and neighbors who will help the kids in our lives to pursue their passions along with God in the way Frederick Buechner described:

The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet."

I pray they pursue a life where they know God is smiling as he works alongside them, even in them, and where they sense him whispering something along the lines of  "Perfect!" as they are glad together.

A Father's Blessing

Since my eldest finished Kindergarten, I've started the tradition of writing a letter to my kids at the end of each school year.

It's written at an age-appropriate level so they can read it themselves which, in the early years, was a fairly simple undertaking--a recap of some of their accomplishments and a reminder that daddy loves them and is proud of them. But Lauren just finished 3rd grade and her reading comprehension is growing rapidly, as has her ability to grasp deeper emotion and meaning. So naturally, the letters have gotten a bit more involved.

In this year's letter I talked about the fun we'd had this year. I talked about how brave she was to sing in front of her class, and how good of a writer she is becoming. But I also talked about growing up--how I want to enjoy every moment of fun together, but I also want to help her grow into the strong, confident, smart and beautiful woman she will one day become.

Our church has recently started a new curriculum called Homefront, and I noticed this past week that the take-home sheet includes a suggested blessing for you to speak over your child. I've been thinking a lot recently about the Biblical practice of "the blessing" - words a father would speak that would impart a sense of purpose and meaning.  There is power in speaking that kind of truth into someone's life, to declare God's truth and to speak words of hope, purpose and value over them. It's even more powerful when you are speaking over your child.

So I've committed to figuring out how to do this, to give my children a blessing. And my first attempt was this year's letter to my soon-to-be fourth grader:

May God fill your days with abundant joy. May you trade worry for peace, knowing that He protects you and guides you. May you be filled with His Spirit, and may you share His love freely with others.

And may you always know that both your heavenly and earthly fathers love you very much.

What about you? I'd love to hear how others have learned to speak a blessing over their children.

"I want my chore to be nothing"

My conversation with my Kadin (4 years old) went like this... Kadin..."Why do I always have to empty the silverware from the dishwasher?"

Me..."Because it's your chore."

Kadin..."But I think I want my chore to be nothing. I want to just get to watch movies all day."

Me..."But that doesn't make you a better person or help you learn to be a good man."

Then I hear God's gentle whisper..."Do you hear yourself? Do you hear that sometimes you have to join in and do not just watch and let others do for you?"

WOW! I love when God speaks and I KNOW it. I have been pondering all day and actually for several days if what I have been hearing is God or me. There is a need at our church for youth leaders. I am not volunteering for that as I lead 3 youth already and am satisfied with my role. However, I have been questioning a quickening in my spirit that says I have something to say to the teen group. I thought maybe I was just feeling the need to be needed, or involved, or to feel important. But hearing this bit from the mouth of my boy and feeling a nudge from Jesus, I remember that I am not insignificant in his kingdom either. Just as my asking Kadin to help with chores, with his much older and experienced siblings, can be a pain and time consuming for me, it is worthwhile as it teaches him and makes him know that I love him and care about his future self.  God asks me sometimes to step out of my "I want my chore to be nothing" comfort zone and do... for my own sake.

1 Corinthians 10 says, " Forget about self-confidence...cultivate God-confidence...He wants us, all or nothing...The point is not to just get by. We want to live well, but our foremost efforts should be to help others live well." (the Message) I also am reading 'Generous Orthodoxy' by Brian McClaren and have had an epiphany of sorts as he discusses "personal" salvation and how sometimes it becomes all too personal and not enough relational. Jesus saves me and asks that I share that salvation with others. Not for my glory but for his. My chore of "nothing" just leapt to everything. In everything I do I want to share, show, relate Jesus and his love and salvation so that others can know him too.

I am still unsettled on how worthy I am to speak to the youth group. I feel like I am not educated enough, or exciting enough, or spiritual enough to have anything of value to say. But I also know that sometimes God asks me to do something for my own growth just as I ask Kadin to put the silverware away.

Routines of the Heart

Teeth are brushed, we’ve all gone potty and we’ve read through, “My Crayons Talk” and “Dr. Dog” twice already. As I lean back against the headboard of the bed, Kaiser turns to me expectantly and says, “I’m ready, Mom.” I ask what he’s ready for. “For telling you when I felt happy or sad today. Can you read it?” This is the first time he’s asked for our Good Dirt reading and I smile at the thought. It’s wonderful when a good routine is embraced. Our culture talks a lot about breaking out of the routine, the mundane. But the Kingdom of God is furthered by the small things – often the things found in routine.

When we are living the Kingdom Way, our routine expresses repentant responses.

When we are living the Kingdom Way, our routine develops a rhythm of forgiveness.

When we are living the Kingdom Way, our routine nurtures grateful hearts.

When we are living the Kingdom Way, our routine challenges us to choose joy despite dire circumstances.

When we are living the Kingdom Way, our routine demands that we remember.

When we are living the Kingdom Way, our routine builds courage.

This routine isn’t the time of day we wash the dishes and clean the house or feed the chickens. It’s not the time we set aside for hobbies or visiting friends. It’s not the time we set on our alarm clock for waking up the next morning. And yet it’s in all those things. Kingdom routine is set in the heart and is the regularity of reaching for God. Looking toward Him. Longing for Him. Worshiping and glorifying Him. Crying out to Him and talking with Him.

Without this routine, we won’t develop any of the characteristics of those who walk the Kingdom Way. When we aren’t walking the Kingdom Way, this routine cannot be established and we will wallow in the shallowness of simply filling our time.

If this heart routine is fed and watered by sitting down at the end of the day with my son to read the Scriptures, quiet ourselves before God and let him tell me when he felt happy or sad today……well then, we have a good routine.

-Tamara

A Summer of Serving

With only 4 days of school left until summer, the excitement level at our house is running extremely high. I clearly remember that feeling as a child, with all of summer before you. No real commitments, just lots of lazy mornings and free time. Heavenly. As a mom, I’m still excited about summer--especially the part where all of us don’t have to be ready to leave the house by 8am each morning. But there is also a sense of trepidation, and any other mom with school-age children knows exactly what I mean. Because there will be no more alone time for 2 and a half months. There will be two children who become better at bickering by the day. There will be “I’m bored,” “I’m hungry,” and “He hit me!” And there will be a sense that every other “good mom” has daily creative art projects and science experiments and other Pinterest-inspired boredom-busters, all ready to go on day 1 of summer.

One of the internet’s favorite ways to deal with all of this is a summer bucket list. Mommy bloggers everywhere are creating chalkboards and signs and printables full of great summer ideas: Camp in the backyard. Have a water balloon fight. Make s'mores and smoothies. Play in the sprinklers. It’s a nice idea, as it gives you something to do when boredom sets in and helps you keep track of all that you hope to accomplish before the first day of school. We’ve made one every summer for the past few years, and plan to do it again this year.

And yet… One of my favorite parts of “Good Dirt” is the daily questions, when we have time to intentionally ask our children things like, “Where did you see God’s goodness and love today?” “How did God meet your needs?” “What did you do for others today?” It was that last question that got me thinking about our summer list. Every year we fill it with fun ideas that will grow us together as a family. That's wonderful, except it doesn’t teach my children much about serving others. That's when I remembered that somewhere, filed away in the back of my mind, was this list written by a local blogger. A Summer Service List, loaded with acts of service that help our children think outside of themselves and see the ways they can meet others needs right where they are. Things like:

• Write letters to grandparents
• Do your sibling's chores
• Bring flowers to a friend
• Surprise someone with a “just because” gift
• Donate toys and clothes

This year our family will be adding in some service ideas to our summer list, so that it’s not just about us, but also about ways we can use what we have to love others. What about you? Does your family make a summer list? Any other service ideas to share?

Happy summer!

-Carolyn

Even better than the real thing?

Have you ever seen an ant lion? These tiny fierce preditors make a pit in the sand where an unsuspecting ant falls to its demise. Poke it the right way with a stick and the ant lion flings sand up and creates a mini-avelanche. We were doing this at someone’s house and invited the 10 year old boy who lived there to join in the fun. “Why?,” he said on his way back inside, “I can just look it up online.” A title of a talk at an upcoming Charlotte Mason conference caught my eye: Growing Up with Technology—Helping Children Resist the Seduction of Mediated Experience.

That phrase, mediated experience, is what struck me. There are things in between us and an experience that we mistake for an experience itself. We watch cooking shows and feel a sense of accomplishment. We, like the Pharisees, mistake knowledge about God for first-hand interaction with God.

Imagine a child who turns down a trip to pick fresh ripe strawberries because the artificially flavored strawberry-shaped candy in his backpack is good enough. Not only is the candy more convenient but by eating it constantly the child’s tastebuds come to prefer it over the real thing. The tummy gets what it wants but the heart is not fooled and remains unsatisfied.

Mediated experience, in this sense, is nothing new. But technology intensifies the temptation. Why go outside and wait for the ant lion to come out when one can watch it on a screen now?

Modern culture is built on the assumption that getting what we want—information, food, you name it—as fast as possible brings happiness. But it doesn’t. Everyone knows this deep down and simple observation shows it to be true.

And so what are we to do?

Don’t think me a Luddite wanting to return to the “good old days.” I’m not convinced the old days were that good. Genuine and lasting happiness in God is the end game here. And the Master shows us how to get there in Him: “self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to finding yourself—your true self.”

A small part of self denial for us is limiting our kids screentime. This is a touchy subject where the Spirit has to lead. No law will do. We can’t be driven by fear of exposing them to the wrong thing or a desire to achieve some vintage ideal. The goal is freedom and joy. The simple fact is that excessive mediated experience makes most of us self-focused, irritable and unhappy.

So here’s to more ant lion poking and strawberry picking, Scripture play-acting and living room dancing, more fishing and sandcastles, more talking to God and less talking about him. Our hearts know Real when we see it and taste it and touch it. May we deny ourselves the quick thing to enter into the joy of the real thing.

Mother's Day

Motherhood did not come to me easily. Mothering does! My Kadin said to me today "It's Mother's Day! Don't you remember?" My thought was of course I remember...How could I forget my 3 beloved ones. Every day is cherished when a battle is fought to gain something. My people that call me mom, mama, mommy are my joy, my strength, my weakness, my heartbeat! I LOVE being mom. It took me a while to feel worthy of the title though...I felt and sometimes still feel like I have to earn it. However, I have so many amazing examples of mothers in my life. I have more friends than I can count that inspire me to be a better woman, wife and mother. I have women in my circle that have faced what seemed like insurmountable obstacles and continue to look to God as their strength, put one foot in front of the other and "just do the next thing." I have birth mothers that I think are absolute heroes of sacrificial love and grace and adoptive or foster moms that choose to nurture in very difficult situations.  My own mom...she is full of contemplation and competition. She is steady and strong and always willing to help! My grandmothers who are great examples of family, unconditional love and strength. My sisters who are my role models of independence and creativity and fun. My mother in law who even in a weakened body was still full of humor and propriety and my grandmother in law that was the most determined woman I have ever known. My heritage of powerful praying women is unmatched. I am honored to be called their inheritance.

I am extremely blessed to be a mom but I am more blessed by the mothers in my life! I am inspired and encouraged and recharged with the role of being a mom.  Thank you Isabella, Quinn, and Kadin for making me a mama... for Mandi, Frances and Raegan for trusting me to fill your place...for Mike for helping me daily to grow and to God for allowing me to feel and experience your "mama" heart every day.

In the words of another nurturing mother from my life who is within days of opening her eyes in the presence of Jesus... "I just want to meet with as many people as I can in as many days as I have left and tell them that Jesus loves them."

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY...to all not just moms!

A Ramble of Motherings

While Mother’s Day is this Sunday, we celebrated several weeks ago when we were in the UK and I learned that they call it Mothering Sunday. Mothering Sunday is a similar holiday celebrated on the fourth Sunday of Lent. This year my thoughts are leaning toward, “Mothering Sunday.”

When I take stock of all the mothering it took raise me and all the mothering I still need, one person is a great start, but not nearly enough. My cast of mothers crosses all boundary lines, including gender.

One of my first memories of being mothered is of my PaPete. The memory consists of me standing on the deep freezer in his deli quoting Bill Cosby and being constantly harassed about food. “Are you hungry?” “You can’t eat a pimento cheese sandwich without chips.” “You want hash browns with your eggs.”  If you met him, he’d try to feed you.

My fourth grade teacher, Miss. Walker, did more than teach. She mothered. She said wild and crazy things to me like, “You are smart,” and “One loyal friend is worth more than a thousand popular ones.”

My Aunt Nita mothered less with what she said and more with what she did. Over a Dr. Pepper she’d listen to my hare brained ideas, and give me opportunities. She believed the very best about me.

Jimmy Daniel, my BSU director, mothered me through college. Feeding and challenging me to live into who God created me to be.

The woman who actually claims to be my mother has a lion’s share of courage and a fierce protection of her cubs. I remember a day in middle school when a boy I liked, (who didn’t know I was alive), accidently slammed my hand in a door. My mother, “accidently” let the same door fall on his head. She locked eyes with him and said, “Oops, these doors are tricky, aren’t they.” Incidentally this is also the day I most wished for an invisibility cloak.

Today those who mother me take the shape of friendships; male or female, we mother each other, we nurture, love, and protect.

I burst with gratitude when I see the mothers in my daughters’ lives.

My father mothers like no other. He is a professional enabler, enabling these quirky little girls to follow wherever their hearts lead.

Our neighbor, Peggy, mothers with her stealthy intellect and wise presence.

Jim, mothers by laughing at the jokes of budding joke tellers that fall way short of funny.

Russ, our former worship leader, mothered them into the throne room of God and taught them to dance with their soul.

I suspect they also will require a small army of mothers. There is one Mother though, one whose presence is constant.

God frequently plays the mothering role. God taught me to walk into the dark spaces and then reached in and healed my wounds. (Hosea 11:3-4)  God fed me with words like “You are made in my image.” (Genesis 1:27), and gave me the courage to fly. (Deuteronomy 32:11-12) God has never forgotten me, (Isaiah 49:15) in fact God has tirelessly looked for me when I have gone and gotten myself lost. (Luke 15:8-10) After four decades Mother God still invites me to crawl up on her lap, she rocks gently, whispering that I am safe and her love is the deepest, most pure love that I will ever know. (Psalm 131)

* The image used is from Rector Jonathan's blog.   http://rectorjonathan.wordpress.com/2010/03/13/a-mothering-sunday-reflection/

Garden of Praise

For Holy Week, we took Good Dirt up on their suggestion to create a Garden of Praise. We added flowers each day starting on Palm Sunday. When I added a new flower, I would ask my son why we praise God. His answer was different each time and all but two are his own. His answers cause me to praise God loudly.

[Garden of Praise – Gwangju, S.Korea]

We praise you, God our Healer

He heals

We praise you, God our Maker

You make all things well

We praise you, God our Redeemer

He died on the cross

We praise you, God the Artist

You make us beautiful

We praise you, God our Father

He loves us

We praise you, God our Provider

You give good things

We praise you, God to Whom we Belong

You give us family

We praise you, God Who Rejoices

Thank You for making life fun

We praise you, God our Shelter

You hide me well

We praise you, Risen Lord

He is Risen!

We praise you, God our Shepherd

You guide us well

We praise you, Omnipresent God

He is here

^{Matthew 21:16} and said to Him, “Do You hear what these are saying?”

And Jesus said to them, “Yes. Have you never read,

‘Out of the mouth of babes and nursing infants You have perfected praise’?”

-Tamara {with Kaiser} 

The Holiest Ground

I want to write an amazing blog post. I want to write a post that will move you to tears or stir you with conviction. A post with witty stories of cute child-sayings and refreshing words of hope. A post that you will admire and appreciate. But the ink runs dry.

Sometimes we're in a desert land and we don't know why. A season of drought when we keep trying to plant new seeds but nothing seems to grow. We're still doing all the "right" things but they don't seem to have the same impact. Prayers bounce off the ceiling, bible verses fall flat, and fear can creep in.

I've spent much of my life teaching or mentoring college students, so I've seen first hand the fear that often comes along with a dry season. They wonder if they've done something wrong and if it will always be like this. But one of the benefits of being almost twice their age (yikes), is that the dry seasons don't usher in the fear that they once did. Because I've been through many dry seasons before and I know they will come and go. More importantly, I know it is often during the dry spells that God is doing a work so deep that we can't see it yet.

One of my favorite bible passages occurs in Exodus, when Moses asks God to show him His glory. And God tells Moses, "When my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with my hand until I have passed by. Then I will remove my hand and you will see my back" (Exodus 33:22-23). A couple of years ago, I saw this passage in a whole new light when I read Ann Voskamp's book, One Thousand Gifts. She spelled out a connection I had never made before: It is in the dark that God is passing by. It is in the dark that God is closest. Dark is the holiest ground.

I think dry seasons are much the same way. It is only in the looking back that we can see God's nearness. That His hand was covering us while we waited in the dark. And so I wait, knowing that some day soon, God will remove His hand and I will see His back. And I will know He was there the whole time.

Fire is Fun or Minding the Light

My favorite church service of the year is the Easter Vigil.  For those who don't know, the service is built around the movement from dark to light, the movement from death to life. It has hours (2 hours for us) of Scripture readings that trace "The story." Adam, Noah, Abraham, Issac.... you get the point, there is singing interspersed and responsive readings. All the while the building is moving from dark to light. The readings are done by candle light (candles that have been lit by the Christ candle) and each person in the congregation is holding a candle as well... for nearly 2 hours. For nearly 2 hours I sat by children with fire. After an hour and a half one gave up, but honestly its nothing to be ashamed of... she fought the good fight. There were several close calls, like the first time hot wax fell on her hand and she refused the urge to drop the candle into my lap. This is the child who has naturally curly hair and likes to wear it long and wild, and therefore we did slightly exude the smell of burnt hair, but only briefly.

Round about minute forty a sneezing fit nearly blew the light out. But no, she kept it safe and lit.

It was shining bright in the darkness making it possible for us to read and therefore pray with the rest of the congregation. That little light made it possible to worship and to hear "the story."

When she was too tired to hang on safely, I held it for her. She curled up next to me and slept, after making me promise to wake her for communion. It's her first communion after being recently baptized and this was a big deal for her.

Managing two candles and a fire friendly paper prayer booklet was a harrowing task. All my senses were focused on not burning the church down.  I had to mind the light.

Mind the Light is a Quaker phrase.  It means to pay attention to the light of Jesus within us, is it bright or dim? Is it going out, or setting our neighbor on fire? There are two ways to be a light to those around us, one is harmful and can leave permanent damage, the other shows the way, brings warmth.

This is what we're talking about these days. Minding the Light.

In the morning, How can I mind the light of Jesus today? (Bible reading, prayer, solitude, a walk outside, forgiving others, asking forgiveness, making space for mistakes)

In the evening, How did I mind the light of Jesus today?

So it's the evening of Easter Sunday. Jesus is the light, how are you minding it?

He is Risen!

“He is risen!”  The Lord is risen, indeed! Alleluia!” How I love this greeting.  This is no “Morning” grumbled while stumbling toward that first cup of coffee.  It’s not a chin raised in recognition of an acquaintance or a quick handshake upon entering a room.  This is the greeting of two believers.  These are the traditional words that Christians exuberantly share on Easter Morning, heralding the joy they share in knowing that their Savior has indeed beaten the grave.  These are the words upon which our faith is built.

The fact that our Lord rose from the grave after three days is the whole reason for this season.  It’s the whole purpose of our faith In Jesus Christ as our Savior.  He came, fully man, to this earth to experience what we experience.  But, he was and is fully God.  The death of a good man on the cross for the sins of others would have been noble and loving.  But it would not have been redeeming.  This is such a difficult concept to teach to our children.  Christ’s death was gruesome and barbaric.  But at the very same time it was beautiful and holy and the greatest act of love ever performed for them.

As we walked through this season of self-denial and prayerful contemplation, I tried to help my children understand that the reason we deny ourselves certain pleasures and comforts in the time leading up to Resurrection Day is not to make us an inherently better person.  Denying ourselves sugar, or TV or meat on Fridays will not make us a holier individual.  It does not in and of itself bring us closer to God.  What it does do, if done in prayer and meditation on what He gave up for us, is point us to the One on whom we place all our faith and that is what makes us a better person.  That is what brings us closer to the One who died to know us.

Not only do we have a Savior who gave Himself over to suffering and death in order to share eternity with us, but He overcame death.  He endured His Father’s wrath so that we wouldn’t have to.  He felt the weight of every sin ever committed by mankind heaped upon his soul until at last The Father was satisfied.

And so we share these words after the long weeks of Lent.  We, at last, share in the joy of Jesus’ resurrection end the fast of the “Alleluia”s.  And when I greet my children on Resurrection Day with these words and they answer back,  I know that they, in part for now, and someday will fully know, the joy of knowing that their Lord has overcome all evil and they will stand with Him in complete victory.  Because He lives.  Today, tomorrow and always.

A Life That's Cruciform

© JD Warrick, used under Creative Common License.

It's those bedtime questions that can require the very most we have to give.

I remember hearing Chuck Swindoll say one time that for parents, it's those moments we're tucking them in when kids are the most talkative. Don't rush through bedtime with your kids, he encouraged. They'll do anything to delay switching off the light. Talk to them. Listen to them. Take advantage of their open hearts and listening ears no matter how tired you are and no matter how ready you are to be done with parenting for the day.

Austin, my 11-year-old, asked this one as I was giving him a final kiss at the end of a trying day, to put it mildly. Our 8-year-old had been through two meltdowns, our high schooler had been home sick from school and then had gotten his braces tightened. We'd been to music lessons which meant a late dinner. The boys had been squabbling.  Fishing poles and line were spider-webbed around our family room in an effort to de-tangle. And Austin and I had just finished studying for a surprise test. It was time for bed.

"Mom, if Jesus asked God a question on the cross--'My God, why have you forsaken me?'--then how could Jesus and God be just one God?"

The Trinity. Who really understands it? And how do I talk about it, and Jesus' most difficult moment here on this earth, to a tired pre-teen when I am feeling on the edge of sanity myself? Many times we've talked about the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as 3 persons in one God, like an apple or an egg or a pumpkin--all different parts of one whole. That's the best way for our human brains to grasp what we can't really get. And this is what I pulled from down deep on this night. "Because the Bible tells us that Jesus cried out to God, we know he was talking to his Father. But the Bible also tells us  that Jesus is God, and that the Lord our God is One. So, even though our minds have a hard time really understanding it, it's true. Someday we'll understand it much better."

Now that I'm rested and the fishing poles are put away, I'm thinking a little more coherently. Not about my words to Austin, but about this place of mystery in our lives. The way we all deal with the unknowing that is an undeniable part of our Christian faith. As parents, and as people in relationship with God, we want to nail down the answers. We want to figure it out and learn it so we can defend it, and more, so we can live in an inner place of comfort.

I'm reading a book that pokes at this tendency of ours to want neat and tidy answers. To beneat and tidy people. It's titled Chasing Francis by Ian Morgan Cron and is the fictional story of a pastor who has a breakdown of sorts and travels to Italy to encounter Francis of Assisi in his millenia-old surroundings.

In talking with a few priests who are hosting him, the pastor begins to see his own unknowing, his own brokenness, with new eyes.

"You'll never be able to speak into their souls unless you speak the truth about your own wounds," one of the priest says. "They want a leader who's authentic, someone trying to figure out how to follow the Lord Jesus in the joy and wreckage of life. They need you, not Moses."

And then the priest says, "Do you know how Simon Tugwell described Franciscanism? He called it 'the radically unprotected life,' a life that's cruciform in shape. ... Maybe living the unprotected life is what it means to be a Christian."

That night with Austin and a house full of tangle--it was the right night for a question without a good answer. It was the right night to remember Jesus' agony in relationship with his Father. And, perhaps my weary attempt was what it needed to be. The mystery of God, the cries of our suffering Servant, and the untidiness of me--they're things my kids need to see. And that image of the cross, I hope it comes to mind every time I'm spent and need to share just a little more of myself.

*The TAU cross shape in the photo above is the one that Francis of Assisi used in all his writings, minus the head. He painted it on the walls and doors of places he stayed and used it as his only signature. The TAU is a letter in both the Hebrew and Greek alphabets and has long been used as a sign of the cross. This stained glass is found in the St. Francis of Assisi Parish, Sacramento, CA.