Who doesn't love Buzz Lightyear? What a silly guy to think that he could really propel his plastic toy body into outerspace. You have to love his optimism, though. On the topic of infinity, the kids have been contemplating these things lately... outer space, heaven, time. Deep thoughts that hurt your brain, or maybe expanding our brain capacity necessitates deep thinking. No pain, no gain probably applies to neuro fitness as well as physical fitness.
I don't want to give my children pat answers to their deep questions for a couple reasons:
1. There are no pat answers. We are humans who can't fathom the wisdom of God beyond our tiny understanding of His word and what the Holy Spirit reveals to us.
2. Jesus never gave pat answers. He asked questions, beautiful, challenging, brilliant questions. I want to ask more questions.
There are so many things that seem infinite to us - sand on a beach, hairs on our head, stars in the sky. We can't venture to count these things, but God simply knows these things in His omniscience. I believe He doesn't have to count, the knowledge is always there even though the number may change from time to time. What things are INFINITE? The capacity to love perhaps, our capacity to think. Rumor has it that we only use 10% of our brain capacity, but there's equal research that says this is not the case. In which case, perhaps our brain capacity is finite.
Often questions lead to more questions. In the midst of our quest for understanding, I want to point my children always to the richest resource of truth that we have - the Bible. It's God's word, His breath come to life through the pens of men. Fascinating, mysterious, but true. Here are a few things the Bible tells us about infinity..
"Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever." Hebrews 13:8
Jesus is infinite.
"All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be." Psalm 139:16
God's knowledge of my life, past, present and future, is infinite. (omniscient)
"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:38&39
God's love for us is infinite. What more do we need to know?
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Where Does the Highway End?
Recently Emma Grace asked me this question, "Where does the highway end?" As you may imagine, this question was enmeshed in our discussion about outer space, heaven, just a few light topics to chat about, huh?! I was reminded of one of Sam's favorite books of poetry, Where the Sidewalk Ends, by Shel Silverstein. Here's the poem:
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
I loved Silverstein's wacky poems as a kid; as a parent, I worry that the creepy face on the back of the book will stalk my children on the internet. Oh, to have the carefree heart of my youth again!
Anyway, back to Emma's question...Where does the highway end? She wasn't speaking metaphorically - she's precocious, but doesn't speak in figurative language just yet. We have to have something to look forward to in First Grade! Well, I know that 95 ends at Key West. What does it look like where it ends? Ben asked. Well, the Caribbean Sea, I suppose. I hear there's lots of chickens in Key West, too. I think I can smell the peppermint wind or maybe that's Key Lime Pie.
More than pinpointing a location, I love that my kids are pondering the infinite things of life, the deep questions of life that we adults think we've figured out, or don't bother thinking about. More on this later...
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
I loved Silverstein's wacky poems as a kid; as a parent, I worry that the creepy face on the back of the book will stalk my children on the internet. Oh, to have the carefree heart of my youth again!
Anyway, back to Emma's question...Where does the highway end? She wasn't speaking metaphorically - she's precocious, but doesn't speak in figurative language just yet. We have to have something to look forward to in First Grade! Well, I know that 95 ends at Key West. What does it look like where it ends? Ben asked. Well, the Caribbean Sea, I suppose. I hear there's lots of chickens in Key West, too. I think I can smell the peppermint wind or maybe that's Key Lime Pie.
More than pinpointing a location, I love that my kids are pondering the infinite things of life, the deep questions of life that we adults think we've figured out, or don't bother thinking about. More on this later...
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Seasoned with Grace
One of my favorite meals to cook is soup. There are so many fabulous combinations that make a delightful, satisfying meal... Sausage Tortellini, Italian Wedding, White Chicken Chili, even Gazpacho. One time I made Gazpacho for 125 people. Talk about a lot of Gazpacho! Soup flows through your whole body, bringing a sense of satisfaction without overeating. Soup brings joy to me as a cook because it allows me to be creative. No soup is ever the same twice. I like that. I like wiggle room to experiment with a touch more basil or a pinch less salt. I like the freedom of soup.
Sometimes my mom says I missed my calling as a psychologist. I love to observe and analyze the interactions of those around me. I love to share my analysis with my husband. Sometimes he says I'm wise; othertimes I'm sure he finds me annoying. What I need more of in my analysis is ... grace. Not that there should be less truth, but the truth and the grace should float in a soup together. A delicious soup seasoned with the fresh herbs of God's word, love, and genuine compassion. Sometimes I concoct a bitter soup, a soup with one main ingredient - truth, maybe a little bit of judgment and a dash of smugness. This soup does not flow across the tongue, down the throat and into the heart to bring grace to the soul. This bitter soup is like an elixir to cure a disease. It may be necessary, but it's not enjoyable, burning all the way down. This liquid may bring restoration to your body, but it does little for restoring relationships.
John tells us "The law came through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus." Clearly he's noting a distinction between the two covenants. It's almost as if the semi-colon is a chasm, a chasm between law alone and law with grace. What a chasm Jesus has crossed for us. Jesus came to bring truth AND grace. I pray that my words would spread this same soothing salve to those around me.
Sometimes my mom says I missed my calling as a psychologist. I love to observe and analyze the interactions of those around me. I love to share my analysis with my husband. Sometimes he says I'm wise; othertimes I'm sure he finds me annoying. What I need more of in my analysis is ... grace. Not that there should be less truth, but the truth and the grace should float in a soup together. A delicious soup seasoned with the fresh herbs of God's word, love, and genuine compassion. Sometimes I concoct a bitter soup, a soup with one main ingredient - truth, maybe a little bit of judgment and a dash of smugness. This soup does not flow across the tongue, down the throat and into the heart to bring grace to the soul. This bitter soup is like an elixir to cure a disease. It may be necessary, but it's not enjoyable, burning all the way down. This liquid may bring restoration to your body, but it does little for restoring relationships.
John tells us "The law came through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus." Clearly he's noting a distinction between the two covenants. It's almost as if the semi-colon is a chasm, a chasm between law alone and law with grace. What a chasm Jesus has crossed for us. Jesus came to bring truth AND grace. I pray that my words would spread this same soothing salve to those around me.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Some Things are more Important than Bedtime
"So do we just float around in outerspace when we die?" Emma's question caught me off guard as I sat in the hallway reading them a nightime Bible story. After trying to find the scent of her trail of thinking, I said, "No, we go to Heaven." "Well, where is Heaven? Is it a real place?" wondered Ben. "Yeah, what's it like?" chimed in Emma. It was one of those miraculous moments, moments you want to capture on an indelible film and store away for easy retrieval in the Sundance Festival of our brains. It's a moment you hope for, dream of, but can't plan. When children start asking beautiful questions about the spiritual realm, there's-more-to-this-life type questions. I knew their little minds were really stretching and going in new realms of possibility and I didn't want to miss it b/c some things are more important than bedtime.
"Some things are more important than bedtime." I just read Randy Pausch's book, The Last Lecture," a collection of thoughts and wisdom from a dying father to his children. As a kid in the 50s, he was at summer camp when John Glenn and his crew first landed on the moon. The lunar landing was broadcast on tv, but like all babybirths, it was impossible to predict the time. As the hour approaced 11 o'clock, the kids were hustled off to bed, missing one of the greatest glimpses of history in this century.
This story puts my mommy schedule and task list into perspective. We all have things in mind to accomplish on a daily basis, I set time targets for Kevin and the kids like a businessman's sales goals. What are the markers against which we measure ourselves as parents... "Did we get them to bed on time or early?" Yes - success. "Did they remember to take their anti-biotics, vitamins, brush teeth and hair, pack lunches AND get them into their backpacks, make beds with minimal scrapping?" Not really - failure. How do we balance the necessary evil of our task lists with being available to seize the moment when a beautiful conversation opens like a summer rose?
To be continued...
"Some things are more important than bedtime." I just read Randy Pausch's book, The Last Lecture," a collection of thoughts and wisdom from a dying father to his children. As a kid in the 50s, he was at summer camp when John Glenn and his crew first landed on the moon. The lunar landing was broadcast on tv, but like all babybirths, it was impossible to predict the time. As the hour approaced 11 o'clock, the kids were hustled off to bed, missing one of the greatest glimpses of history in this century.
This story puts my mommy schedule and task list into perspective. We all have things in mind to accomplish on a daily basis, I set time targets for Kevin and the kids like a businessman's sales goals. What are the markers against which we measure ourselves as parents... "Did we get them to bed on time or early?" Yes - success. "Did they remember to take their anti-biotics, vitamins, brush teeth and hair, pack lunches AND get them into their backpacks, make beds with minimal scrapping?" Not really - failure. How do we balance the necessary evil of our task lists with being available to seize the moment when a beautiful conversation opens like a summer rose?
To be continued...
Monday, May 18, 2009
Parenting Instincts
I found myself in a strange place yesterday... in a townhouse living room with 12 lively kindergarteners, trapped inside by a hurricane of sorts, surrounded by junk food galore and no planned activities - a twilight zone birthday party. I had inklings, I had warnings, but I decided to enter the uncharted territory anyway. It was a weird, wild ride of sorts. Nothing harmful occurred, other than gaining an insider's glance into another's dysfunctional family pain. AWWWWKKKKWARD! A friend of mine back in high school used to say, "I was embarrassed to be a human being." I was a fly on the wall seeing and hearing way more than anyone should have to see and hear.
Instantly it was clear that the mom was a teen mother, not much more than a baby herself. Was it easy to judge? It could've been, but then other dynamics came into view. An overbearing, argumentative grandmother. A strange motley crue of friends and partners, and one little girl excited to be six and the belle of the ball for once. One odd conversation with the bingeing father led to another with Norman with the "mysterious" last name, until I retreated to the one other safe chaperone in the room.
After I'd endured all that I oould - two hours before the party was scheduled to wrap-up - my mommy instinct kicked in. "Grab as many kids as you can!"
I began calling parents and saying, "I can't give you details right now, but I don't feel right leaving your child here." They thanked me and I whisked their kids into the safety of my minivan.
Just like all things, this bizarre-o soiree came to a close and we were all fine, at best a little wiser since we had learned from bad choices. Just because someone lives in a certain neighborhood doesn't make them an immoral person, but when the clues start adding up it's never too late to turn around and re-think an initial decision. I desire my kids to grow up in diversity, having friends of all cultures, all socio backgrounds and coming from all neighborhoods, even. But this TZ party made me realize that some kids have a LOT stacked against them, beyond what my sheltered family can imagine. And they deserve to be loved and cherished, to be the belle of the ball now and then, too.
Instantly it was clear that the mom was a teen mother, not much more than a baby herself. Was it easy to judge? It could've been, but then other dynamics came into view. An overbearing, argumentative grandmother. A strange motley crue of friends and partners, and one little girl excited to be six and the belle of the ball for once. One odd conversation with the bingeing father led to another with Norman with the "mysterious" last name, until I retreated to the one other safe chaperone in the room.
After I'd endured all that I oould - two hours before the party was scheduled to wrap-up - my mommy instinct kicked in. "Grab as many kids as you can!"
I began calling parents and saying, "I can't give you details right now, but I don't feel right leaving your child here." They thanked me and I whisked their kids into the safety of my minivan.
Just like all things, this bizarre-o soiree came to a close and we were all fine, at best a little wiser since we had learned from bad choices. Just because someone lives in a certain neighborhood doesn't make them an immoral person, but when the clues start adding up it's never too late to turn around and re-think an initial decision. I desire my kids to grow up in diversity, having friends of all cultures, all socio backgrounds and coming from all neighborhoods, even. But this TZ party made me realize that some kids have a LOT stacked against them, beyond what my sheltered family can imagine. And they deserve to be loved and cherished, to be the belle of the ball now and then, too.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
I Once was Lost
I found my blog today. What a surprise. I started a new one yesterday, then today I found my old one. "Finding" my old blog begs the question... where did I find it? Right where I left it, of course!! :) I read my old words and deep thoughts written when we were in a much different stage of life. We were on the other side of a vast expansive unknown...now I'm on the west coast of that decision. It's good to be on this side, not the deciding side.
I can see pros and cons to our life here and now. It's not what we expected in all realms, but it's good. It's very good, and I feel blessed and thankful that God guided us through the transitions that we made. He thought of every detail, even beyond the multitude of details consuming our brains at the time. He is good and tender to us, loves us dearly, even though we're not missionaries anymore. We're normal people now. Normal Christians now trying to let our faith guide us in this regular place we find our selves in. The world is full of normal people who need to know that Christ loves them and longs to walk with them daily. I pray God would use us to share His grace with the normal people we encounter everyday.
I told a friend before we moved that I was anxious about leading a mundane life in the States. I did not want us to be swallowed in a sea of mundacity... two years later, the waves on this sea are nice. It's not a glassy sea, by any means, but it's a good ride. Choppy now and then to keep things interesting. Maybe we'll ride North Beach waves of faith again at some point in our life, but we're enjoying the gentler pace of our fine sea for now.
I can see pros and cons to our life here and now. It's not what we expected in all realms, but it's good. It's very good, and I feel blessed and thankful that God guided us through the transitions that we made. He thought of every detail, even beyond the multitude of details consuming our brains at the time. He is good and tender to us, loves us dearly, even though we're not missionaries anymore. We're normal people now. Normal Christians now trying to let our faith guide us in this regular place we find our selves in. The world is full of normal people who need to know that Christ loves them and longs to walk with them daily. I pray God would use us to share His grace with the normal people we encounter everyday.
I told a friend before we moved that I was anxious about leading a mundane life in the States. I did not want us to be swallowed in a sea of mundacity... two years later, the waves on this sea are nice. It's not a glassy sea, by any means, but it's a good ride. Choppy now and then to keep things interesting. Maybe we'll ride North Beach waves of faith again at some point in our life, but we're enjoying the gentler pace of our fine sea for now.
A Smidge of Grace
Recently my son Benjamin had a birthday party. One of the party-goers arrived in tears, a surprising way to arrive at a party. "Did my mom talk to you about the present?" She asked. "No," I replied. "Well, I ran out of time to pick something special out for Ben. Is it okay if I get him something later?" "Of course," I replied. Later, I told Ben what had happened. "No problem," he casually responded.
Well, that was two months ago and still no present. Ben hasn't given it another thought; I've given it his second thought and my third plus some. I start off giving the benefit of the doubt...Maybe they just forgot. Maybe they're having financial troubles. Maybe she gave Ben something and he forgot to tell me. Without warning my mind loses its footing and I find myself in a mud puddle. They're doing this to slight us. What evil people they are!!
As these ridiculously petty thoughts muddied my heart today, God reminded me of a story Jesus told in the Bible. It's called the Unmerciful Servant from the book of Matthew Chapter 18. A King goes to settle an account with his servant who owes him a large sum of money. The servant cannot pay up. The law stated that the servant should sell everything he owns and his wife and children into slavery to pay what he owes. In desperation, he pleads with the King for mercy. The King gives him mercy and the servant is off the hook.
Shortly after this life-altering encounter, the servant runs into someone who owes him a small amount of money. The same servant that should be overflowing with the forgiveness he just received, attacks this guy, trying to literally shake the money out of him. Hello? Isn't this the same guy who just was forgiven a huge debt? How can he not extend this same grace to his friend?
It's easy to judge the unmerciful servant, but I see myself in him so clearly. I have been undeservedly forgiven so much by the Lord. Why am I stingy in extending a smidge of this grace to those around me? Who am I to hold a grudge over a $10 kid's toy? I am certain that I have been unknowingly forgiven by those around me countless times for sins of forgetting to follow-through on promises I've made. Please forgive me for my stingy heart, Lord, and thank you for this reminder of your generous grace.
Well, that was two months ago and still no present. Ben hasn't given it another thought; I've given it his second thought and my third plus some. I start off giving the benefit of the doubt...Maybe they just forgot. Maybe they're having financial troubles. Maybe she gave Ben something and he forgot to tell me. Without warning my mind loses its footing and I find myself in a mud puddle. They're doing this to slight us. What evil people they are!!
As these ridiculously petty thoughts muddied my heart today, God reminded me of a story Jesus told in the Bible. It's called the Unmerciful Servant from the book of Matthew Chapter 18. A King goes to settle an account with his servant who owes him a large sum of money. The servant cannot pay up. The law stated that the servant should sell everything he owns and his wife and children into slavery to pay what he owes. In desperation, he pleads with the King for mercy. The King gives him mercy and the servant is off the hook.
Shortly after this life-altering encounter, the servant runs into someone who owes him a small amount of money. The same servant that should be overflowing with the forgiveness he just received, attacks this guy, trying to literally shake the money out of him. Hello? Isn't this the same guy who just was forgiven a huge debt? How can he not extend this same grace to his friend?
It's easy to judge the unmerciful servant, but I see myself in him so clearly. I have been undeservedly forgiven so much by the Lord. Why am I stingy in extending a smidge of this grace to those around me? Who am I to hold a grudge over a $10 kid's toy? I am certain that I have been unknowingly forgiven by those around me countless times for sins of forgetting to follow-through on promises I've made. Please forgive me for my stingy heart, Lord, and thank you for this reminder of your generous grace.
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