I got in a short run today.
Have to say it was good to get out. I've been home with sick kids for pretty much two straight weeks and I'm starting to get a little cabin fever. I've also been face-to-face with my "stuff". When life's rhythms get disrupted, it's easy for me to fall into old patterns of escape and compulsion. Let's just say that my Angry Birds scores are soaring, and there is nothing on You Tube that I haven't seen. Jeremy Lin? Check. The latest movie trailers? Check. Old episodes of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman? CHECK!! (Editor's note: upon further reflection, I'm sure there is lots on You Tube I haven't seen and never want to see!!!)
So to get out in the crisp morning sunshine and breathe deeply of the new day was good for my soul. In no particular order, here are my running thoughts:
- If you want to have stamina to run, you have to go running. Strength builds upon exertion.
- Looking back at what God has done is rich and rewarding. It has a depth of beauty that is difficult to put into words. My soul is filled when I gaze upon the work of God, remember His beauty, and see in myself a piece of His work in the world.
- Looking forward toward the future also has a distinct beauty, but the reality of what is to come lies beyond the bend. It takes trust in the One who has worked before to face the future with confidence and not fear.
- Comparing man-made things to creation will always demonstrate the superiority of God and the awe of His creative genius. Earth is imbued with beauty, which to me speaks directly to His great love for us and His desire for us to enjoy this life He has given us.
- There is also beauty in man-made endeavors, but they will never replace God's fullness, light and life!
- The air you breathe makes a difference in your ability to live. (this random thought noticed as I jogged past a row of cars waiting at a stop light - breathing in the exhaust fumes.) It's harder to run through exhaust fumes than fresh air. If my life is full of things that leave fumes, I will not be thriving - or running - at the pace and peace I desire!!
I think that's it for today. As usual, this post does not designate a return to routine posting, but some random thoughts. May you find God meeting you in a variety of situations, places and people!
Friday, February 24, 2012
Sunday, January 15, 2012
When God Moves
I spent the afternoon with a bunch of fantastic women. We talked. We laughed. We taught each other. We prayed. I came home 5 hours later. Exhausted. Exhilarated. Excited. God transforms lives. I watched it happen today. I believe it will happen again. I'm glad to be where I am on this journey of life. It's good.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Parenting Awareness - Compassion
No guarantees that this post will begin a trend of posting. . . life is to be taken as it comes. I did, however, have a thought that has lasted more than two days. Here you have it:
Several years ago we made the decision to have our oldest son change schools. He was not at all happy about the plan, and we spent a summer in relative angst. For the first half of the summer I was trying to convince him that the new school would be great and he would love it. I knew what he did not, that the new school would be a better fit for him personally, academically, and athletically. He couldn't get past the idea of a change - everything new to him, missing his old friends, not sure how things are supposed to happen. . . No amount of brilliant persuasion on my part could convince him that it would be anything other than awful.
Jeff, with some brilliant persuasion of his own, convinced me to lay off the poor kid. He invited me to allow him to take the lead in the conversations, and stay out of it for awhile. He did this ever so gently and in love - and I truly was able to accept it as wisdom, rather than get defensive. Without the daily pressure to conform to my opinion, I watched our son internalize the conversation and deal with his questions. I was impressed to see him open up to the conversation. I watched maturity unfold before my eyes.
And as it did, I was overcome with compassion. Rather than being in such a hurry to have him see things from my perspective, I began to see things from his. My heart ached as I considered how an 8 year old deals with the loss of friendship and the uprooting of all he knows at school. I was able to sit with him in the knowledge of the change without trying to convince him that he was going to like it. I was able to cry with him the week before school as he said through tears, "Mom, I'm not saying it will be bad, I'm just saying it will be hard." As we walked together, I was better able to support him from a place of compassion.
Fast forward 2 1/2 years to this last weekend. Our boy woke up grumpy. He woke up with a chip on his shoulder. He woke up with all the world against him, and especially his mom. Nothing I said was right. Nothing I did could soothe. It was going to be one of those days. I could feel the angst start to rise in me as I wrestled with the recurring problem - my son was so exceptionally emotional that when once this spiral began, it would take a miracle to pull out of it. No amount of brilliant persuasion on my part could convince him that he has a choice in the matter and doesn't have to stay miserable all day. I've witnessed what I see as a tendency to not see things in the light of reality. To blow things out of proportion. To misread what someone else says or does. To take offense easily. Basically, to be 10 and human. But that's beside the point.
The point is, it was going to be a long day, and I was already feeling the inner stress start to boil in my gut. Taking a quick time-out in my bedroom, long enough to throw an arrow prayer to God, I sensed a nudge in my spirit, "Jennifer, don't go down this road. Don't let his misery make you miserable. Bring it to me." Hmmm, how do I do that? "God, I'm sad. I'm sad that my son can't see clearly right now. I'm not actually angry at him, and it's not my job to convince him to see things differently. So, my day doesn't have to be ruined, but I am sad for his reality right now."
With a new reality for myself, and a sense of release from needing to control the reality of my child, I re-engaged in the day. The lights came on and suddenly I was filled with. . . compassion. In ceasing to try to get my child to see my point of view, I began to see his. AND, with rapid clarity I was deeply aware that he and I are not so different. See, there I days that I wake up grumpy. I wake up with a chip on my shoulder. I wake up with all the world against me and nothing anyone says can soothe. Now, I'm 39 years old and I've developed some skills at hiding this kind of mood. But the truth is, when I feel like this, I feel really crummy inside. I dislike how it feels. I want someone or something to make me feel better!!
When I began to think of my son's funk in light of my own funkiness, it helped me to walk alongside him. As a mature adult, I've developed some skills for moving past this mood. I go out for a walk or a run. I listen to some worship music or play on the piano. I sit down in my comfy chair with my journal and I talk to God about it. It's not always easy. It's not a formula, but I've learned how to look to God to change my perspective. I realized that my son has very few of these skills, he just had a mom trying to convince him that the way he felt wasn't reality and he should just quit blaming everyone and everything for how he felt. No wonder he spirals - he has never been taught how to self-evaluate and decide to change course. He doesn't know how. It's developmental.
Suddenly my day wasn't a battle with my son, it was an opportunity to empathize and allow some healing strategies to rub off on him. Not overt teaching, mind you, subtle suggestions. I invited him to walk with me to the store for milk. I shared with him that I have days that feel rotten to me. I told him I've learned a few tricks for getting past my rotten mood, "Would he like some suggestions?"
"Sure Mom"
A walk, a talk, a hug and a prayer on the front porch.
Did it fix the day for him? No. But he took me up on one of my suggestions and wrote his feelings to God in his journal. I could sense the cloud breaking.
Compassion - when we are stuck in a rut with our kids and they simply can't see things from our perspective, perhaps we could be quicker to put ourselves in position to see things in their perspective.
Several years ago we made the decision to have our oldest son change schools. He was not at all happy about the plan, and we spent a summer in relative angst. For the first half of the summer I was trying to convince him that the new school would be great and he would love it. I knew what he did not, that the new school would be a better fit for him personally, academically, and athletically. He couldn't get past the idea of a change - everything new to him, missing his old friends, not sure how things are supposed to happen. . . No amount of brilliant persuasion on my part could convince him that it would be anything other than awful.
Jeff, with some brilliant persuasion of his own, convinced me to lay off the poor kid. He invited me to allow him to take the lead in the conversations, and stay out of it for awhile. He did this ever so gently and in love - and I truly was able to accept it as wisdom, rather than get defensive. Without the daily pressure to conform to my opinion, I watched our son internalize the conversation and deal with his questions. I was impressed to see him open up to the conversation. I watched maturity unfold before my eyes.
And as it did, I was overcome with compassion. Rather than being in such a hurry to have him see things from my perspective, I began to see things from his. My heart ached as I considered how an 8 year old deals with the loss of friendship and the uprooting of all he knows at school. I was able to sit with him in the knowledge of the change without trying to convince him that he was going to like it. I was able to cry with him the week before school as he said through tears, "Mom, I'm not saying it will be bad, I'm just saying it will be hard." As we walked together, I was better able to support him from a place of compassion.
Fast forward 2 1/2 years to this last weekend. Our boy woke up grumpy. He woke up with a chip on his shoulder. He woke up with all the world against him, and especially his mom. Nothing I said was right. Nothing I did could soothe. It was going to be one of those days. I could feel the angst start to rise in me as I wrestled with the recurring problem - my son was so exceptionally emotional that when once this spiral began, it would take a miracle to pull out of it. No amount of brilliant persuasion on my part could convince him that he has a choice in the matter and doesn't have to stay miserable all day. I've witnessed what I see as a tendency to not see things in the light of reality. To blow things out of proportion. To misread what someone else says or does. To take offense easily. Basically, to be 10 and human. But that's beside the point.
The point is, it was going to be a long day, and I was already feeling the inner stress start to boil in my gut. Taking a quick time-out in my bedroom, long enough to throw an arrow prayer to God, I sensed a nudge in my spirit, "Jennifer, don't go down this road. Don't let his misery make you miserable. Bring it to me." Hmmm, how do I do that? "God, I'm sad. I'm sad that my son can't see clearly right now. I'm not actually angry at him, and it's not my job to convince him to see things differently. So, my day doesn't have to be ruined, but I am sad for his reality right now."
With a new reality for myself, and a sense of release from needing to control the reality of my child, I re-engaged in the day. The lights came on and suddenly I was filled with. . . compassion. In ceasing to try to get my child to see my point of view, I began to see his. AND, with rapid clarity I was deeply aware that he and I are not so different. See, there I days that I wake up grumpy. I wake up with a chip on my shoulder. I wake up with all the world against me and nothing anyone says can soothe. Now, I'm 39 years old and I've developed some skills at hiding this kind of mood. But the truth is, when I feel like this, I feel really crummy inside. I dislike how it feels. I want someone or something to make me feel better!!
When I began to think of my son's funk in light of my own funkiness, it helped me to walk alongside him. As a mature adult, I've developed some skills for moving past this mood. I go out for a walk or a run. I listen to some worship music or play on the piano. I sit down in my comfy chair with my journal and I talk to God about it. It's not always easy. It's not a formula, but I've learned how to look to God to change my perspective. I realized that my son has very few of these skills, he just had a mom trying to convince him that the way he felt wasn't reality and he should just quit blaming everyone and everything for how he felt. No wonder he spirals - he has never been taught how to self-evaluate and decide to change course. He doesn't know how. It's developmental.
Suddenly my day wasn't a battle with my son, it was an opportunity to empathize and allow some healing strategies to rub off on him. Not overt teaching, mind you, subtle suggestions. I invited him to walk with me to the store for milk. I shared with him that I have days that feel rotten to me. I told him I've learned a few tricks for getting past my rotten mood, "Would he like some suggestions?"
"Sure Mom"
A walk, a talk, a hug and a prayer on the front porch.
Did it fix the day for him? No. But he took me up on one of my suggestions and wrote his feelings to God in his journal. I could sense the cloud breaking.
Compassion - when we are stuck in a rut with our kids and they simply can't see things from our perspective, perhaps we could be quicker to put ourselves in position to see things in their perspective.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Giraffe
So, for many, many years I have identified with giraffes. It's a long story - one I don't have time to wax eloquent on tonight. Suffice it to say that I counseled at a camp that required animal names for the staff. I was tall. Someone said I should be "Giraffe." I had no objection. And that was that.
Except that I worked at the camp for over four summers and there were hundreds of kids in the greater Salem area who knew me as "Giraffe". By the end of my stint there, I had been given giraffes of all shapes and sizes, had an official "favorite" animal, and would forever be identified with this tall, graceful giant.
My friend Miss Marie, on the other hand, wasn't so sure about the giant head and tongue less than a foot from her head!!
We had a great time at Wildlife Safari with our three kids and my nephew. Great day. I recommend it. It's worth the drive. And if you're a Bi-mart member (with your card to show) you get in two for the price of one on Tuesdays.
And I highly recommend the extra $10/person to go on the giraffe "encounter" and feed the giraffes! (and if you have a large group and ask for a discount they just might cut some off the price. I saved $40 on our two encounters just by asking.)
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Blessings in disguise
Ants in the pantry.
That's all. I have a clean pantry for the first time in 5 years.
What about you? Any blessings in disguise lately?
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
After ten days in the sun and sand of Hawaii, it's taken ten days to acclimatize myself to Oregon again! Our family had a fantastic time together on Maui with the kids. We snorkeled, swam in the pool, swam in the ocean, boogie boarded, made lots of sandcastles and pretended to be driftwood. (You'd have to ask Titus about that one.) It was so nice to be warm. And I deeply enjoyed and appreciated the different kind of beauty that you see in tropical places. We enjoyed the place and we enjoyed each other. It was great!
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Good Question
A couple months ago I was having a conversation with a leader I deeply respect. This woman is a spiritual director on a Christian college campus, and spends quite a bit of time in mentoring, teaching and discipling young people. In a seminar I was attending she mentioned a question she often asks the people who come to her for prayer or advice. She begins by asking what they have heard from Jesus in their quiet time that week.
The question struck me because it's not a big heavy, "You need to be having your quiet time." It's not a legalistic, "Do this because I said so." It's a reality check. If we want wisdom and help from the Lord, we need to be listening to Him. If we're going to others for prayer and advice, we are admitting our need, and her question points people to Jesus rather than creating a dependence on someone else.
See, if I listen to God regularly, and so I become known as someone with wisdom, people begin to seek me for wisdom. But if I'm truly wise, I will not allow them to establish a dependence on me, but rather, help them see that their true dependence is on God alone. Point them to Jesus.
Do I do a bigger favor to my friends, family and ministry groups if I pour out myself for them and give them my opinions, insights and life-lessons, or if I point them to Jesus and train them to receive their own insights and life-lessons from the Lord?
There are times when, as we do life together, we glean and learn from one another. There are other times when, in teaching settings, it is appropriate for one person to study, glean and share with others what the Holy Spirit has put in their heart. These are good, even great, gifts to the body of Christ. We are called to encourage one another and build each other up, yet we are also admonished that Jesus is the only one who can truly meet our needs.
So let's point each other to Jesus.
What did you hear from Jesus in your quiet time this week?
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