Ordinary Faithfulness

Being faithful isn't glamorous.

It looks a lot like changing dirty diapers. And waking up with a sleeping baby in the morning's wee hours.

It looks a lot like waking up when the alarm goes off to read some scripture before heading off to work.

It looks a lot like practice, and not a lot like performance.

It looks a lot like doing the same things over and over.

But it's easy to be addicted to the high of the next big thing.

Geoff reminded me recently that not everything I write has to be amazing, or as some would say, "epic."  The important thing is that I'm practicing, and seeking to share with others whatever the Lord has given me to share. And the same is true for all of life. Not everything we do, not everything we contribute to the world has to be amazing. And that's good news, because it's doubtful that even a little of what we do will be all that grandiose, at least in the ways we're accustomed to thinking of grandness. The important thing is that we are being faithful in the spheres we've been given to tend, that the little plots we have stay watered and as lovely as we can make them. Watering is a fairly mundane task, but diligently tended yards are usually the most enjoyable to look at and spend time in.

The other day, I read this from Proverbs Twenty-four:

I passed by the field of a sluggard,
by the vineyard of a man lacking sense,
and behold, it was all overgrown with thorns;
the ground was covered with nettles,
and its stone wall was broken down.
Then I saw and considered it;
I looked and received instruction.
A little sleep, a little slumber,
A little folding of the hands to rest,
and poverty will come upon you like a robber,
and want like an armed man. (vs.30-34).

In the margin I wrote the word Stewardship, because these verses speak to me not only of avoiding the poverty of an empty bank account, but of the tragedy of a wasted life. I've been trying to read a chapter from Proverbs every day for a while now, and every 24th of the month that I read these words they seem to be written directly to me, because I know there are some thorns and nettles in my vineyard that need to be dealt with. But often, I over-complicate matters. Instead of tending to the thorns and nettles by faithful work in the things I've been called to, I become paralyzed. Sometimes I opt for literal sleep (hitting snooze a few too many times), and sometimes the sleep of mindless activity. I am often like the sluggard of another Proverb that says, "There is a lion in the road! There is a lion in the streets!" (26:13). Many excuses can be made when it comes to 1. facing our fears, and 2. doing the hard, and sometimes monotonous work of stewarding our lives well.

So, my encouragement for you and for me is simple:

Press on through the ordinary stuff of today. Press on when practice is frustrating and unexciting. Press on, not only for the reward that will come in the end, but for the joy of knowing you're being faithful today.

 "...He [Jesus] died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves, but for him who for their sake died and was raised" (2 Corinthians 5:15).  For him, faithfulness wasn't glamorous either. It looked a lot like a cross. And that cross gave us access to a deluge of grace, a grace that is still unequivocally available even on our least faithful days. But did you catch what this passage says about why he died? So that we would no longer live for ourselves, but for him. That means he gets our stuff. That means he calls the shots with our time and our talents. That means we have the awesome privilege of living in loyalty to the greatest Teacher, the greatest Friend, the greatest King who ever lived, and not only died, but was raised. We get to join him in his mission on the earth, and he has chosen to use not perfect, but faithful people who will change diapers and meet deadlines, and write poems, and paint, and teach, and do all that we do in a way that says, "Look at my King! He is great!" And as we do, we'll hear the echo in our own hearts saying Yes, Yes He is. I have a great King.

Not surprisingly, I'm hearing it louder even now...

Today = Your Life

The saying goes, "How you live your days is how you live your life," and I'm not so sure I like that saying today. Not because it's not true, but because it is all too true. And I'm not proud of how I live every day. There is too much wasted time. And not enough kind words spoken. There is too much "stinkin' thinkin'." And not enough out on limbs loving.

Since moving into our rent house, a nearby cemetery has become a regular sight in our routes to various places. Typically, I can't drive by without noticing the graves and wondering about the people who are buried there. And I rarely pass by without this thought crossing my mind: someday you're going to die too. I'm thankful for this healthy reminder.

I started reading "7 Habits of Highly Effective People" once. It's a little ironic that I never finished it. And don't worry, this isn't going to be a post lauding laziness disguised as free-spiritedness and embracing myself just as I am because, after all, there's grace (oh, wait, maybe you were hoping for that...). Because I am realizing this: I'll never do the things I don't set out to do. It's not that not finishing the book was some horrible sin, but a pile of unfinished tasks that I don't complete due to a lack of discipline probably is. Sunday after Sunday rolls around, and as I reflect on the past week, often it seems like I'm just the same person that I was the week before...and the week before. I know change is probably happening in small ways that are at times imperceptible to me, but I also know that generally, change and growth aren't simply going to fall upon me. I must have an active roll in my own progress. No one else can take these steps for me, a hard realization for someone who is chronically indecisive and not as much of a self-starter as I would like to be (see what I did there?  I labeled myself...easier to excuse my behavior that way). A friend once said, "Change happens in the specifics," and for such a simple statement it could be quite monumental if applied. My vague resolutions each week to do or be better aren't likely to yield much fruit, but working on a specific habit that I want to change, or implementing one that I would like to change me? That seems like a good place to start.

I normally take naps on Sunday afternoons, and believe me, I am a big proponent of naps. But I also know that I usually sleep too long and wake up groggy and out of sorts, and the afternoon is gone. Today I am trying something new: I decided to write instead. Later, I will spend some time reading and reflecting on today's sermon. Week after week I yearn for change, and week after week I do the same things over and over. It's time to change it up. Not to throw out habits and routines, but to hold on to the ones I know are good, and to try some new ones as well. Change happens in the specifics, so I'll make specific changes, and with The Resurrected Jesus at work within me, I know the odds are in my favor. In fact, God's plan all along has been to make me like his Son. But all through Scripture I see that this won't happen apart from my cooperation. I am called to action. I am called to put on good habits and to put other ones to death. I am called to endure, to persevere, to fight the good fight.

I have one life to live. This. Right Here. Right Now. When I string all of my todays together, that will have been it, this side of a resurrected body at least. But on most days I don't think this really sinks in. We are creatures so deeply entrenched in our habits and thought patterns and I've grown used to counting on tomorrow and assuming I'll have a chance later on to really get serious about who I am and who I'm becoming. But oh, if I could emblazon this on my heart, that all of my right nows and all of my todays and right-this-seconds are my life and added all up will be it's sum total! It's a simple equation that I should probably write on my mirror and look at every morning: Today = your life (my math loving husband would be proud).

For a forgetful disciple in need of change, Lord have mercy.

On Waiting Well

Some things you write about because you feel you have come through to the other side and can offer insight and help to others who may be going through similar situations. Some things you write about because you’re still in the midst of it and writing about it is a way to process your thoughts as well as invite others into your journey. This post will be more of the latter. Not written out of any expertise, but rather my current (and I’m sure ongoing) need to learn to wait well.

We wait for many things in life. Red lights to turn green. Dinner to be ready. Waiters to bring our food. Doctors to  finally see us. Planes to take off. Packages to arrive. The list goes on and on. Waiting well in these situations is important, but not always quite as formative or anxiety-inducing as waiting for things like medical test results, a deep desire to come to fruition (and wondering if it ever will), or a decision about a huge life change to be worked out.

Lately, I’ve found myself in a state of waiting for various “big” things and the question that’s been rolling around in my mind is, how do I wait well? Because there’s certainly a way to not wait well. Not waiting well would be to obsessively think about the thing I am waiting for, hindering me from being present in the moment. I would not be waiting well if I were filled with anxiety about outcomes. I would not be waiting well if I envied the people who have the things I want, are in the life stages I would like to be in, or who seem to be settled into a rhythm of life, without any major decisions or outcomes to be determined (although, we rarely can go for very long without coming into a period of waiting for something).

So, how do we wait well? Here are some ideas: 

1. Do the good that is before you to do. 

A wise missionary friend recently pointed out that we sometimes wait around, wondering what good thing we are supposed to be doing. After all, Paul does say, "For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them." So, if God has good works prepared, how do I know which ones I'm supposed to do? What if I overstep my bounds and end up doing the good works prepared for someone else? Yes, Paul says God has prepared good works for us to walk in, but this should be an incentive to be obedient and get crackin', not an excuse for laziness disguised as super spirituality. More often than not, the good we can do is quite obvious, and there is quite enough to go around. And this is one of the best ways to wait well, because not only will we find ourselves obeying Jesus and blessing the people around us, we will also be able to shift our focus from ourselves and in doing so, find great freedom from the discontentment or anxiety that may be hounding us.

      2. Practice being present in the moment.

      This one is, of course, easier said than done, but it is essential for anyone desiring to wait well. Because being perpetually focused on the next thing will only cause you to waste today. So, you may (like me) need to start small. For example, I have noticed a tendency in myself to get antsy once I've finished dinner at a restaurant. Even with a group of people I love, I am often anxious to move on to the next thing on the agenda, even if we haven't received our check. One thing I have always admired about my parents is their ability to linger over a meal and just sit and enjoy conversation even after the dishes are cleared. Maybe if we learn to be present in these smaller ways, we would be able to discipline ourselves to be present and engaged as we wait on bigger events to unfold. As we anchor ourselves to the moment, we will be more effective in our tasks at hand and better able to see the good works before us to do, as discussed in #1. And as a fringe benefit, we'll probably have more fun along the way.

      3. Turn your pity parties inside out. 

      As we wait, it can be all too easy to fall into the trap of self-pity. Others' lives may seem to be moving along more smoothly than ours, they may have things we desire and are waiting to have, etc. Our observation (usually lacking all the facts) turns to envy and our envy turns to feeling sorry for ourselves. Why can't things work out like that for me? Why aren't people more sensitive to what I'm going through/ waiting for? Before we know it, we can spiral into a state of depression, all because we feel entitled to our lives being the cookie cutter version of the success or ease we perceive in someone else. But do you know one of the greatest anecdotes to self-pity? In this instance, it would seem we need to focus less on others, but the opposite is true: we need to focus upon others more, just not in relation to ourselves. We need to look at their lives and see them, not what we want but don't have. And we will soon find that they too have things that they are waiting or longing for, or nagging trials and irritations just like we do. Contrary to what your therapist might tell you, one of the greatest anecdotes for self-pity is not self-love, self-care, or self-esteem; it is compassion, love, care, and esteem of others. It is service. We need to turn our pity parties inside out so that the gut feelings we have for ourselves become directed towards others. So that we serve the ones we envy until our envy dissolves into compassion. So that we serve the ones around us who may still be passed over and nameless to us, but who will soon become not only the served, but the blessed servants in our own healing--the healing that comes from the death of self-love.

      I have only listed three things. Three things that I desperately need to make real in my life. There is, of course, much more that can be said about this subject. And as you can see, there is so much more to waiting well than simply letting time pass. To wait well we must enter into time, enter into the seconds and minutes of each day, and actively seek to  be changed, for change is always needed. From our birth to our death, our lives will be filled with waiting. It will do us no good to fight reality or try to bend it to our liking. Rather, with all the varieties and degrees of waiting before us, we would be wise to learn that waiting well must be sought with humility and intentionality, and will always involve learning to love our neighbor as ourselves.