Do Unto One’s Spouse…

Image by jcoterhals via Flickr

I’m holed up in Starbucks on a freezing December afternoon.  With latte in hand, I’m reading Boundaries in Marriage*, a Christian book about creating a healthy marriage.   Do unto your spouse as you would have them do unto you, a marital version of the Golden Rule, just jumped off the page and hit me in the face.

How do I know what is best for Rich, my husband?  Well, the book teaches to step into his shoes and be on the receiving end of what I dish out…  Uh…yeah…  So, every time I feel frustrated or ready to criticize, I need to pause and think about how it would feel if I were on the receiving end of what I’m dishing out.  I need to reflect on the effects of my behavior on him.

Since I’m quick to see what is missing and name it, my growing edge is to learn how to name it in a way that doesn’t attack or blame him…say it in a way that is mindful of being in his shoes, of being on the receiving end of what I’m doling out.  Jeepers, if I approach things this way I’ll probably end up dropping most things as I’ll realize they don’t matter, that I’m just looking for an outlet for pent-up frustration and Rich is handy.  I hate the thought of this last bit, but may be…

The book teaches that, at times, this approach doesn’t always lead to a warm, fuzzy place…at times it means thinking about what is best, even if it is difficult.  For instance, it mentions arranging an intervention for an addicted spouse, an uncomfortable move but one in their best interest.  Or, confessing sins or hard truths, in the interest of honesty and real intimacy.

At other times, this idea manifests more mildly, like not blaming one’s spouse, but simply stating how something makes one feel and what one plans to do about it (i.e. I feel frightened when you yell at me, next time it happens I will leave the room until we are able to engage in calm discussion.)

With Christmas approaching and no cash in pocket, maybe this can be my gift to Rich.  Empathy in action, even in marriage.  Well, well, Merry Christmas my dear…

*written by Henry Cloud and John Townsend

Setting the Stage

That verse.  You know the one:

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

Christians often quote it, we claim it for ourselves, we assert God’s blessing in our life through it.

About a week ago, God prompted me to randomly open my Bible and read.  I sensed He had something to say to me about a struggle I was having in a relationship.  So, I did.  It fell open to Jeremiah 28, which kicks off with a prophet saying that God would rescue the Israelites, His chosen people, from exile in two years’ time.   I smiled big as I turned this into a message for me:  two-year turnaround, two years and things will be “all better”.  Well, I thought, there IS hope.  God will come through. Then I kept reading…

It turns out the prophet who said this was lying, giving false hope.  He was verbally shot down by Jeremiah–the real prophet of God–and then shot down by God Himself.  Shot down dead.

At this point, I started squirming.  Did I want to read more?  Maybe I should have stopped after verse 4, after the “wow I can live with that–praise the Lord!” proclamation of the false prophet.  If I would have stopped,  I wouldn’t have known it was all a lie.  Instead, I’d be happily whistling “Awesome God” or “Holy, Holy, Holy”.  But nooooo, I’d gone too far for that.  I couldn’t, in good conscience, chuck the rest of the story for the nugget I was happy with.  The nugget had lost its luster…I had to look for the gem, God’s real message for me.

Jeremiah unpacked the truth. In chapter 29, he says the Israelites will be rescued in 70 years, not two years.  The “plans I have for you” verse is in this chapter and refers to plans for the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of the hearers, not for the hearers themselves.  A collective jaw drop surely happened as they realized they would always live in exile, they would never get to go home.

God doesn’t leave them without purpose, though, for in those 70 years, God says to: “Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease.  Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the LORD for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.” (vs 5-7)

Gulp.

I got it…the message, that is.  I need to stop thinking about myself, my comfort and well-being and start looking at setting the stage for future generations…what will be in their best interest.  From these verses I see that includes not only the basics–food, water and shelter–but healthy, stable, God-centered marriages and families that pray for and seek peace with their enemies.  Do you see the grandkids in these verses?  Yep, they’re there…

You know the best part of all of this, the part that makes sacrifice now so worth it?  It emerges from the verses that immediately follow “the plans I have for you” verse.  Listen as God speaks about His relationship with the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of the hearers:

Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.  I will be found by you,” declares the LORD, “and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you,” declares the LORD, “and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile.” (vs. 12-14)

They’ll have intimacy with God…an intimacy so deep that God allows Himself to be found by them.  An intimacy that leads them home…

Oh Holy Spirit, please set the stage through me…

–image retrieved from picapp.com: http://view4.picapp.com/pictures.photo/image/8392667/birds-flying-formation/birds-flying-formation.jpg?size=500&imageId=8392667

Scribblings in the ‘Silica

I slid into Minneapolis’s Basilica of St Mary Saturday.  Between three days of solitude and silence with the sisters of St Paul’s Monastery and one long afternoon of marriage counseling, I had ninety minutes to kill…no, fill.  Psychic pain and inner chaos were the order of the day, I needed peace…church music, really good church music often helps.  So…I took a stab in the dark, hoping somehow music might ring through the space during my visit.

Arriving on the tail end of a Scouts of America ceremony, I realized it wasn’t likely I’d know peace.  Little boys and girls and families snapping shots and posing well.  Flags and bandanas peppering the view.  They were all so cute, but not so quiet…and none of them were playing the organ or singing like angels.  Not one.

Nowhere else to go, I found a spare pew and tried to pray.  Then, as families departed, I began to write…

I dead now.  Completely dead.  Sin has done its deed.  No longer do I breathe.  No longer do I see, do I hear, do I feel.

I come to hear music, to maybe feel something, a spark.  I take my chances, may sneak some in.

God, please resurrect or take me Home.  I cannot live like this, I dare not live like this, it would breathe death into so many.  No one deserves the death I carry, the death I am.

The children I must protect; the children, the children, the children, the children…

Silence almost–people leave, scouts depart.  Soon…soon silence, then maybe music…if not then deathly silence, empty silence, silence of death.

One step at a time, Light to be given for the next step.  Trust the possibility of healing, of hope.  Surreal, yet mine.

Wanting life, death is all.  Sin showers, living the lie, choking its smoke.  Can I go back?  Dare I?  Will I?

Silence, finally almost silent.  Clean-up, set-up, busy, busy.  Easter approaches, yet not for me.  Another no Easter.  Maybe never ever Easter.

Like crucified Jesus in sculpted stone…maybe death is my fate, my eternal now.  Frozen dead forever, for always.

No music, not yet.  I’m gonna miss it, time runs out.  Soon I must go, must leave and revisit death’s genesis.

Did I kill myself?  Do I kill myself?  On some level, do I choose this?  I so didn’t know, I trusted something that didn’t exist, I trusted a lie, a living lie.  Now it is all I know.  Searing, painful, but maybe there is healing.

Oh, for some music…

Music!

A single a capella soprano sang one song, sang it once…was beautiful, a piece of peace…had to go…

–pic is found at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Mateo_Cerezo_d._J._001.jpg

Climate Change

Today is the annual Blog Action Day–a day where bloggers from all over the blogosphere are challenged to blog about climate change.  I’ve registered to take part at http://www.blogactionday.org/, so here I go. (CNN even has an article on this cyber event: Bloggers Unite on Climate Change).  Since I focus on things spiritual, this post will not sound like a run of the mill sociopolitical cry…

I’m going to assert that pollution (that leads to climate change) is a physical manifestation of spiritual pollution.  Spiritual pollution is, quite simply sin….missing the mark.  Whenever we deviate from having God as the center of our life, as the One we love most, we veer off and erect something or someone else in His place as a way to feel safe.  Whenever we do that, we create spiritual pollution which makes it hard for us to see, to know what is pleasing to God and lifegiving to others and to the earth.  We lose harmony with God, with each other and with the planet and all become difficult to maneuver/manage.  Unwittingly our spiritual smoke stack fosters fear (for we cannot see) so we erect various sorts of physical smoke stacks to secure our own wellbeing (think industry, technology, ubanization).  Once we eventually see a smokey problem of our own making (i.e. climate change) we then kick into high control mode to fix it (which is probably what climate change world leader summits are all about: control it, fix it). 

Biblically, we catch a glimpse of this in the Creation story (first 3 chapters of Genesis).  In a nutshell, the story goes like this: God creates absolutely every spiritual and physical reality (yay God!)…He sets up the Garden of Eden for Adam & Eve–a place where there is perpetual harmony with God, with each other and with all of nature (animals too).  At this point, sin hasn’t entered the picture yet: no shame, no fear, no self-awareness, no disunity.  Then, after Adam and Eve succumb to temptation and sin by eating the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil (something they are forbidden by God to do) all hell breaks loose.  The parents of the human race are suddenly out of sync with God and each other: they hide from God and are ashamed of their nakedness (which means they probably hid from each other until they sewed fig leaves to cover up).  God drops in, sees their sin and extends mercy–He doesn’t let them die physically (although, as a consequence of their sin, they have died spiritually) as He initially decreed would happen at mere touching of the Tree.  God properly clothes them and sends them out of Eden with these consequences:

to Eve (and to all of us who carry the XX chromosome) God says:
“I will greatly increase your pains in childbearing;
       with pain you will give birth to children.
       Your desire will be for your husband,
       and he will rule over you.” 

to Adam (and all men) God says:
“Cursed is the ground because of you;
       through painful toil you will eat of it
       all the days of your life.
It will produce thorns and thistles for you,
       and you will eat the plants of the field.
By the sweat of your brow
       you will eat your food
       until you return to the ground,
       since from it you were taken;
       for dust you are
       and to dust you will return.”

To boot, God says to the serpent (who was Satan in disguise and was the one who deceived Eve so that she might eat of the fruit):
And I will put enmity
       between you and the woman,
       and between your offspring and hers;
       he will crush your head,
       and you will strike his heel.”

So…do you see it?  As a consequence of sin there is now physical, spiritual and relational struggles.  The woman now labors hard with childbearing and with her relationship with her husband (by desire for her husband, I take it to mean that she puts her husband above God in her life; that putting God first, before her husband would be a struggle).  The man now toils painfully and by the sweat of his brow to put food on the table and must take responsibility for the wellbeing his families…no more Edenic free lunch.  The ground is cursed because of sin, harmony with nature is severed.  Also, now Satan is at war with all of humankind (“enmity between you” and all offspring): not only is there separation from harmonic living with God, there is war with Satan…

OK, there is the creation story, but what does that have to do with global warming?  Well, maybe as more and more people turn from God or deny God or follow another god the more polluted the planet is, not just spiritually, but physically.  Our disharmony with nature, each other and with God manifests itself in us working to secure our own way in this world, which creates blighted landscapes, melting ice caps and shifting climate zones. 

Through Christ the curse is lifted.  By taking Christ as one’s Savior, surrendering our lives to Him and making Him the center of our universe, the power of sin is conquered.  We begin to walk as Jesus walked: in harmony with God, in harmony with others who can see, in harmony with nature.  The pollution of our lives begins to lift and we start to see and know…We begin to see others around us as He sees them–precious and in need of fresh air.  We begin to see nature in new ways: not as a means to an end, but as He sees it–beautiful and bountiful.  We fight Satan but with the power of the Holy Spirit and alongside Jesus–we’re eternally safe, fear doesn’t hold sway.  Husbands and wives start to live as companions with God as their center–ruling over and desiring are properly placed.  Children are born with pain but also with joy, for new life is a gift from heaven.

We can try to fix the climate change/the planet from external effort but until our hearts turn to Jesus, I think we’re wasting our time.  The earth echoes our dark hearts and until they are transformed by the power of Christ the climate will change, the planet will heave and quake.  May God have mercy. Yes, may God have mercy…

Why Celebrate?

It is my hubby’s birthday tomorrow.  We’ve only one child still at home and she has a full schedule tomorrow, so just Rich and I (pictured above) will celebrate on his birthday day.  On Saturday we’ve carved out a block of time with Emily (our seventeen yr old) so a proper cake with candles and gift opening tradition can continue, if only for one more year.  Next year, she’ll be at college, just like our oldest is now.  Next year there will be no homemade poster made by the kids, there will be no three part harmony birthday song sung, there will be no birthday napkins to buy or special birthday plate to resurrect.  No, next year it will be Rich and I…just like the old days…the really, really old days before the arrival of Charlie and Emily.

Letting go of family traditions has never been easy for me.  I enjoy the familiarity and predictability of them.  Knowing what we do on special days lends a sense of family identity and uniqueness and everyone knows hows to take part as everyone knows what to do and what comes next.  Some years we may go through the motions, kind of on autopilot, but I think those ‘motions’ may resonate on levels we don’t readily apprehend.  I think we catch a more meaningful understanding of all those “times before” when life slaps us hard, when something comes along and pulls the rug out from underneath us.  When disease or trauma or disability bring us to our knees, I think practicing our traditions lends a sense of groundedness in that which undergirds us.  It helps us remember what is important (i.e. honoring the gift of another year of life), it adds a sense of continuity when so much seems broken, it reminds us we’re part of something larger that ourselves.

The church has traditions, even anti-tradition churches have traditions.  We’re creatures of habit, for habits help us habituate to this planet: they help keep us from sinking into the abyss of humanity’s fallen chaos, they help remind us of what we want to never forget, they create spaces in our lives where we don’t have to make it up as we go.  Traditions in the church are helpful, I think, in as much as they bring us to remembrance of our Lord.  All Christians practice certain traditions: taking Communion (the Eucharist, if you’re Orthodox or Catholic), celebrating Christmas and Easter, lighting candles, prayer, reading the Bible, worship.  We keep the traditions that remind us of our identity and uniqueness in Christ and in the world.  We keep the traditions that draw us deeper into communion with God.  We keep the traditions that help us let go of sin and embrace Life. 

I don’t think we need traditions, and someday we may have to live without them–if that day ever comes, it may be because the tradition has become more important to us than the One it is designed to draw us closer to.  If Christmas ever becomes more meaningful to us than the One who was born that holy day, then we may wake up some Christmas morning without a meaning-filled thing to do…the Grinch who stole Christmas will have been right after all.

So, maybe Rich and I start tomorrow with some new birthday traditions.  With one child gone and another busy, we’ll have all day to “try and see” what new traditions might fit for future September 25ths.  I don’t know…I just hope that whatever surfaces, that it will remind him of how loved and cherished he is to me and to so many.  I hope he always remembers that no matter what troubles or trials he enters, that there will always be some who remember and celebrate him and the day he was born, that there will be some who practice a tradition in honor of his life.

Happy Birthday, my love!  Here’s to celebrating you!!!

Irreparably Damaged

This little honey caught my eye while checking in at CNN.com: “Divorce takes health toll that remarriage can’t heal, study says” (by Madison Park).  According to the article, studies have been done to measure the detriment done to one’s health due to the dissolution of one’s marriage.  It ain’t pretty: heart disease risk goes up 60%, chronic health conditions surface, mental health problems visit and mobility issues arise.  All do so in notably greater numbers than among those who remain in their original marriage (even in greater numbers than those who never marry).  They cite that remarriage helps some, but doesn’t heal all.

Noted contributing factors include the incredible amount of stress involved in divorce, the loss of financial stability for most (especially women) which translates into stressful post-divorce living and less access to helpful healthcare.

What struck me in all of this is that in the Bible it talks about man and woman becoming one flesh when they tie the knot.  Tearing in two that union can only mean heartache and stress–ripping apart something that is a living and breathing single organism has to be incapacitating for both halves.  Obviously this spiritual reality plays itself out in our physical selves.  Heartache manifests as heart disease.  Paralyzing psychic pain manifests as physical mobility challenges.  Agitating stress manifests as mental health problems.  Forgiveness struggles opens doors for dis-ease to enter (i.e. cancer).

In divorce we’re scarred spiritually, socially, economically and, it seems, physically.  Some may celebrate their divorce, some may voice the relief they feel once those papers are signed, some may dance happily into their future refusing to turn and see the shadow that follows.  Yet, follow it does.  It takes its toll.  We’re never the same, we’re damaged goods.

I take comfort in the fact that our resurrected Lord Jesus Christ is damaged goods.  He bears the scars of His crucifixion to this day…those never went away, did they?  His hands, feet and side are strong witnesses to us that we can be scarred, we can be irreparably damaged yet whole.  In fact those “tender to the touch” Palms, Feet and Side are the same Hands that hold and guide us, the same Feet that lead and walk beside us and the same Side that reminds us of the fact that our heart can be pierced and rendered asunder (the blood and water that flowed from His side after the soldier speared it tells us that the sac around the heart and the heart itself were pierced) yet, with God’s healing power, a scarred heart can beat again, a scarred heart can be used to bring healing to others. 

The article has its message: divorce at your own risk.  I say don’t do it.  Pull out the stops to make your marriage work.  Be willing to grow and change into a new marital animal if you must, but don’t deliberately rip it all apart.  Justify nothing, demonize no one, take responsibility for who you are in this union and how you need to change.  Surrender it to God and seek Him, His wisdom, His forgiveness and His healing.  Divorce damage is irreparable and irreversible and you’re not the only one it scars.  Don’t wander this way unless there truly is no other way.

Divorce takes its toll, hearts are ripped wide open and all havoc often comes to call, yet in turning to Christ we come face to Face with the One who knows heartache, who knows physical pain, who knows mind searing betrayal and spiritual darkness intimately, who knows it all and can make us into His likeness anyway: can make us into wounded healers, can make our scars sing His glory…

Christ Chapel Wedding, Tornado and Cross

Yesterday was our wedding anniversary and, with Rich unemployed, we had time to spend together.  So, we headed south to our Alma mater, to not only the place we went to college, the place we met, but to the place we were married.  As we walked the campus of Gustavus, we marveled at the renovations and waxed nostalgic at the old standbys. Our final stop was the chapel of our wedding.  It is a beautiful chapel, a highly sought spot for weddings:

Besides a workman hoisted high, we had the place to ourselves.  We walked up the aisle, stood at the altar and reminisced a bit about that blessed day 23 years ago (1986). It was hot and sunny (no air conditioning in Christ Chapel back then), in the 90′s (Fahrenheit).  Although attendees were a wee bit wilty, the ceremony was undeniably beautiful.  Breathtaking music sung by people we loved, flute and organ masterfully played by friends.  Bridesmaids, groomsmen, ushers, parents, family, friends–all came to witness our beginning and support our union.  (If you were there, THANK YOU for coming!) We kept it simple: Scripture readings, unity candle lit, hymns sung, message given, vows said, first kiss.  I cried, Rich was terrified–just as you might expect. :)

Upon entering the chapel yesterday we witnessed a new addition.  Just inside the sanctuary hangs a bent cross over the baptismal font (see pic below).  In 1998, during spring break, a tornado whipped through the campus.  Containing winds in excess of 200 miles an hour the tornado took out 80% of the campus windows, took down over 2,000 trees and damaged 50 buildings, including the chapel.  The chapel’s windows were blown out and its spire went down:

No one on campus died and, even with blown out windows, roof damage and water seepage, the chapel’s eternal flame remained lit.  God was still present, God was still God. 

The cross at the top of the spire was found across campus.  It was bent, beautifully so and now hangs inside the chapel for all to see: 

Is it a testament to how storms can destroy?  Yes, I can see how some would think that…I think, though, that it better serves as a witness to the fact that even when wrenched by storms we can still be beautiful, that in Christ brokenness can bend us into compassionate beings who, like the posture of the cross above, reach toward others.  That by suffering in Christ we become, like Christ, overcomers, we become wounded healers.  Like the steeple cross and Jesus on the day of His crucifixion, storms can take us down, whip us around and do real damage, yet the story doesn’t end there for, in Christ, we rise again in wholeness and beauty.  Christ brings hope, brings restoration.  He provides the strength, power, wisdom, faith and healing to rise again…to rise again and raise the Cross, raise the Cross of Christ.

Commitment

Our anniversary is coming up.  We’ll be married 23 years.  I was at lunch with a friend recently, discussing wedding anniversaries, and I recalled our 10th anniversary.  Having never had a honeymoon, Rich and I left the kids with someone (grandma?), popped in our peanut-sized Ford Escort and headed west for 7-10 days.  We saw the likes of Yellowstone Park, the Grand Tetons, ghost towns in Montana, etc. etc.

I’d like to say it was a lovely time…although it was our 10th wedding anniversary I wanted to be anywhere else with anyone else.  No warm fuzzy feelings were surfacing, with no reason to cite.  I was stuck with Rich for 7-10 days, just the two of us celebrating our 10th.  Needless to say I tried, but it was borderline torture.

As I chatted with my friend about it, she asked how I got through.  I relayed that I remembered from other relationships that feelings of love would leave, from time to time.  For whatever reason, I wouldn’t feel love for a certain someone close to me for pockets of time, even long pockets of time.  Those feelings would and did return, though…nothing would prompt them, that I recall, they just would return.  Maybe I changed so that love had a way to get through, to surface…I don’t know.  Anyway, that pulled me through at least a few times in our marriage.

I’m not sure this applied, though, to this trip, as my feelings were not non-existent or uninterested, they were angry and avoidant.  I was miserable, utterly so.  I think the only thing that got me through was commitment.  I got to learn the meaning of commitment.  Yeah, with vows in hand at the wedding ceremony we committed to one another for life, but this may have been the first ‘in your face’ time when I got to know commitment up close and friendly like.  A word on paper smells different than the reality it represents, and only when I was tested did I learn what it meant.

It was a tough trip, but a memorable trip.  One where choice was tested moment by moment–there was nothing to divert me from Rich’s presence, there was no running away or hiding.  I got to turn to him and live my commitment to him, even though feelings of love had done a disappearing act, even though I would have rather been with absolutely anyone else, even though I had fear and anger surfacing.

I didn’t fake it, I didn’t pretend all was well.  Rich knew I was struggling and we both somehow managed to travel 24/7 together anyway. 

I won’t go into detail, but much came of the trip.  Much came to light and a new beginning was spawned.  Commitment provided space for painful truth to be addressed.  Here we stand, 13 years later.  Not the perfect couple, by anyone’s standards, but we’re here with no regrets.

I gaze at our marriage and then I gaze at my relationship with God.  Commitment.  Is it part of the equation?  Oh, I know He’s perfectly committed to me, it is against His nature to be anything else.  But me, am I committed to Him, truly committed to Him?  Is it more than a word on a page? Is it real? Is it tested and true?  Is it present regardless of my feelings, or lack thereof?  Am I committed and real with what I do feel?  Do I travel/dialogue with Him even when it hurts, even when I’m angry, even when I don’t want to be with Him, even when I want to be with anyone else? 

Commitment–definitely one of those really big words that requires all that we have and everything we are. When we witness it, it takes our breath away…maybe because it echoes something divine: His commitment to us.  It must be rooted in a kind of love not felt, in a kind of love maybe not even understood…..I think we all know when we’re operating solely out of its dictates–it ain’t pretty, but somehow I’m thinking it must, on some level, be beautiful…

(contemplative prayer update: ok, I’m sort of back on the bandwagon.  I did pray a bit today and the sensation at the top of my head while praying seems to be back.  Peaceful time, a time of lifting of the spirit.  Maybe I can trust Him…)

Relationships

We went to a home school graduation ceremony a couple of days ago. It was unique in many ways, yet had some of the old standby elements: cap and gown, procession to Pomp and Circumstance, tassel flip, hat toss, presentation of diploma, etc.

The class was small (8 graduates), yet the largish church was full of people with beaming smiles and teary eyes. Each class member had a part in the ceremony and, of course, there was a speech…a speech given by a male and female (you go, girl–we were there to honor this particular young lady :). They took turns speaking and part of their message had to do with relationships and Christ.

 

Homeschoolers are educated by their parents and so the students\’ relationships are primarily limited to the home, at least in the early years. The speakers noted that strong relationships at home gave them the foundation to have strong and healthy relationships with others, relationships implemented for the purpose of reaching others for Christ. (Yes, being salt and light for God in this day and age seems to be the main motivation behind these kids’ lives.)

 

I wonder how many of us see our relationships at home as a barometer of how well equipped we are to be in relationship outside the home. I look at my most intimate relationships and wonder at how intimate they really are…Rich and I are–oops, I mean, were–in marriage counseling before his layoff (no income, no counseling $$). Are we in major trouble? No, not really, just seeking new connections and better communication as the kids are rapidly becoming more and more independent–empty nest is around the corner and we are looking for ways to fly together into the future. So, maybe that is a healthy barometric reading…still working at being husband and wife, still engaged in growing together.

 

I’m less connected to our kids than I am to Rich, my connection with them seems to change and loosen as they grow. I’m thinking that is healthy, although I’m no expert. They need me less (as it should be) but still we enjoy being together…at least I enjoy being with them.

 

We’re not a “collectively spilling our guts” sort of family (we have two introverts, not to mention Rich has Finnish blood pulsing through his veins), so personal sharing is confined to private conversations which usually have to involve at least one extrovert (either Charlie or I). Are we intimate? In a private sort of way, I guess so….although as young adults the kids do bond much more with their peers than with dear old Mom and Pop. Physically most of us connect easily…appropriate touch happens often for the majority, although when we sit together we rarely rub elbows…a certain amount of personal space is required, I guess.

 

Hmmm…as I look at our family, I see much that is good…not perfect or always healthy, but certainly good. So, it should follow that we have lifegiving relationships outside the home, right? The relationship skills we learn at home should carry over into the areas where we intersect with others. This does make sense, although I don’t think I’ve ever heard it taught, not directly like this.

 

  How about God…maybe that is where this all finds its genesis. Maybe our relationship with God is reflected in our relationship with others, with our spouse, our children, our parents, our friends, our co-workers, our fellow believers in Christ. How we are with others may be an indication of how we are with God. How we are with God may be an indication of how we are with others. Intimacy with God may spill over into true intimacy with others…

Maybe those homeschoolers have nailed it–maybe our most intimate relationships (relationship with God included) do equip us for reaching others for Christ, for allowing Christ to work through us. Maybe those early in life relationships teach us trust, which enables us to trust Christ with our lives which forms a person who can not only connect with others in healthy ways–but can be used by God to kiss the world, to draw others to His Son.

Holiday Headache

Are we in the holiday spirit yet? Day after tomorrow is Thanksgiving and then we’re hurdling head long into Christmas and New Year’s. No stopping it, no denying it. How are you doing?

I know I’m feeling a bit like I do every year: energy drops (lack of sunlight maybe?) and various voices beckon. No, not God or the ones in my head or even the ones I sometimes hear that aren’t physically there–no I’m talking about family, mostly. We’re not only entering the holiday season, we’re entering the season of family gatherings. Rich (my husband) and I have four sets of parents between the two of us (both of our parents are divorced). Each expects, or at least desires, to celebrate with us at some point. This Thanksgiving we’ve got three of the four parents requesting us to gather with them over the long weekend.

We’re hammering down Christmas pretty well–two in two days after Christmas and one ten days before Christmas. One will actually have us on Christmas Day. Christmas Eve with be just immediate family at home. In previous years we’ve had to maneuver even more family gatherings. For a few years, when the kids were little, we shuttled from party to party to party to party. I recall having two in one day (not good when kids are preschool–they get tired. No one has fun when kids are tired!) and getting up the next day and heading to another one.

At one point I stopped and looked at what we were doing. I counted seven family “Christmases” (this was when Rich’s parents were still married, so it could have been more!). Rich and I sat down and tried to figure out a sane way to do this holiday thing…we decided that we would do one Christmas per side of the family, not two like we were doing. You see, we would celebrate with our parents and siblings and then would go to that side’s extended family gathering with grandparents, aunts, uncles, etc. We whittled it down to four family Christmases, let our boundaries be known and ran into quite a bit of flack, flack that still lingers, mind you, ten + years later.

Of course, if at any point we crossed our own boundary (which we’ve been accused of, but honestly don’t recall) we offended, we were considered taking sides or favoring some over others.Then, of course, there is every side of the family’s idea of what Christmas should be: what to eat, what to bring, traditions to remember, how much to spend on gifts, who gets gifts or even whether or not there is a gift exchange. Then whether to buy for so and so’s tag along, sometimes live-in boyfriend and/or the step children of one’s stepsister.Does any of this resonate with you? Am I alone here!!!???? Sometimes I have to remind myself that I didn’t create these fractured families, that I’m just trying my darndest to deal with it all… I’m not responsible, just caught in a tug of war.So, what to do? I highly doubt there is anything in the Bible on this and you know Joseph didn’t divorce Mary and remarry–you know Jesus never hurdled from Passover party to Passover party to Passover party to Passover party.As I pray about it, I’m reminded that we’re beholden to Him at this time of year. Yeah, family matters and clinking our nog glasses is kinda cool, but if we eclipse Jesus with our family or the expectations of our family then we’re in heretical space. HE is offended, for HE should be the one we’re favoring this time of year.

I think I need to be deliberate this holiday season in setting aside time to pray and fast. Being in the presence of God takes some doing, especially when the list is long, the parties are many and the chatter is incessant. If I’m going to have a prayer of a chance of being in God’s will then I need to stay in tune, for staying in the will of God is tricky this time of year–a time when traditions and jockeying expectations run high. Whom do we listen to, to what do we hold on to and what do we let go of? Whom do we really want to please? Yeah, I guess that is what it boils down to: whose smile do we really want this time of year? God’s or one of our parents? I’m not saying they’re mutually exclusive, but if we desire God’s then maybe we’ll stay in His will, be His witness to others, know His presence with us and be willing, even comfortable with letting the proverbial kinfolk chips fall where they may.