Splinters

I would have forgotten the poem if the policeman hadn't knocked on our door early Thanksgiving morning.  The sharp knock made my youngest jump and my eldest look at me in shock that bordered on panic.  The sleepy critters were wrapped in blankets in the living room, enjoying a lazy morning with Dad.  We were not dressed for company.  “I’ll get it.” My hubby reassured my eldest and strode to the door.

Everyone was surprised to see a policeman on our doorstep, but he greeted us politely then jumped straight into questioning.  Within a few minutes, the girls were peering out from behind their blankets, adding information.  The exchange lasted a few minutes, but its impact would hover round the flat a while longer.

The policeman thanked us and excused himself.  From the home downstairs came some barking, knocking, and yelling.  Within half an hour, the sergeant left with a reluctant passenger.  The whole affair was sad and it took my husband a while to put the experience in a context the children could comprehend.  I managed to keep my thanksgiving groove and continued baking in the kitchen, but I found myself upset and praying.

The poem was written by David Roderick and is found in his new book The Americans.   It was titled Dear Suburb and the last line of the poem came washing over me,  

The next time you text me, I’ll be high

On magnolia pollen

and munching chips

near the bluebird house,

amazed I can thrive here so close

to a city’s lost eminence,

where you bring a golden stillness

to everything

I touch, where I go whole years

Without suffering

So much as a splinter 1.

Confession: I deeply miss suburbia and living in a house.  I hate living in an apartment with its insta-community crazies and the blatant thoughtless behavior.  I miss the splinter-less bubble a house provides.  Apartment life isn't for cowards and this Thanksgiving morning grief was making a bold play for my heart.  But before I could step into my freshly drawn bath of self-pity, a parallel metaphor came zipping across my kitchen.  

Church life can be a lot like the suburbs.  I can wake up in my Christian house, put my children in Christian schools, allow them to join Christian sports, send them to Christian youth groups in order to live as far from pagans as possible.   I confess this was the life I was building for myself, the life I desired, before God interrupted some years ago and my world got smashed… to splinters.

The Merriam Webster Dictionary defines a splinter as “a thin, sharp piece of something (such as wood, glass, etc.) that has broken off a larger piece.”  They hurt, sometimes a great deal, and it takes time to fish them out.  They are inconvenient, unpleasant and vexing.

At Christmas time, the world of unbelief doesn't like to talk about splinters.  It prefers to paint pictures happiness without any problems or shortages.  But on this first day of Advent dear friend, as we prepare to remember incarnation of Jesus, I think splinters are worthy of discussion.

Do you have any splinters in your life or heart this Christmas?  Any people or circumstances that you would gladly part with? Celebration is easy when there is no lack, but it takes a believer to worship when an illness takes over and all strength is gone. A perfect Christmas dinner is wonderful, but a Christmas dinner that extends to an unpleasant lonely relative is glorious. So many of us are living non-perfect lives, will you come, problems and all and worship with us?   

My hope friend, is that you would decorate, celebrate and meditate your way through the season.  My fear, is that you will try to create a Christmas without splinters and in doing so, you will miss the cross from which they come.  Many things that drive us to our knees are pieces of His cross.  A piece of suffering, broken from the wood of glory and given to you, overseen by a loving God.  Do not despise your pain and grief this season.  Bring it to the light of Christmas and allow him to touch your brokenness.  It might not be a perfect Christmas, but if it involves the reality of suffering, the very reason why he came, it will be glorious.  

Praying for you this week,
xoxKaren


1.  Roderick, David. "Dear Suburb." The Americans.© 2014 University of Pittsburgh Press. P63-64 

Fill Up

I knew it was going to be a bad morning when I couldn't find my glasses.  The instant I reached across my pillow and grasped air instead of my specs was the moment I should have cried,” Stay in bed children, we’re cancelling Thursday!”  Sadly, years of training and misplaced optimism kicked in and I stumbled out of bed, sightless, to start my morning routine.

On the way to the bathroom, I stepped on a plate of half eaten peanut butter toast and tripped over a curtain road that was used as a wizard’s staff the night before.  I cursed, retraced my steps back to my night table and started the hunt for my glasses.

Few things are as vexing as being sightless looking for your glasses, but over time I have developed a system to retrieve them.  I immediately blame my entire family for moving my belongings and making my role as a mother more difficult.  Then I scream at people to help me while attacking them for asking useful questions such as, “When do you last remember having them?”  When irritation has morphed into a feeling of unjust persecution, I stomp around the flat begging the Lord for his help, because I've lost my glasses and my brilliant family can’t find them.  Inevitably, after I have made everyone miserable, my eye wear is found and I begin my ungracious apologies. 

It’s not as fun as it sounds, which was why I gave thanks when my return trip was rewarded by a glimpse of my glasses on the floor.  Thanking Jesus for small victories, I danced around the toast plate and headed for the shower.

To be honest friend, finding my glasses was not enough to keep my mood in check.  The last week had presented a cocktail of discouragement, to which I added a shot of self-pity, my hormones contributing a dash of irrationality.  Instead of talking with my hubby or a friend, I had decided to tough it out, hoping the sadness in my heart would lift because I knew I was being silly.  It didn’t.  Which might explain why I  started weeping when I piled my children in the car and found the gas tank empty.

Sighing deeply, I went to the gas station.  Pulling in, I thanked the Lord for low gas prices and started to talk sternly to myself about the goodness of God.  My therapy session was interrupted almost immediately by a woman on the other side of the pump.

It was a cold day and she was wearing sunglasses and a delightfully fuzzy white jacket.  (The expensive faux fur type not the ewok-gone-wrong kind.)  Waving the pump handle around in an unsafe manner, she was doing a sort of dance with the hose.  I wasn’t sure what was going on, but because I am a brave empathetic Christian, I decided to hide behind the gas pump. 

Add some more dancing and waving, and insert me looking around to ensure no one nearby was juggling with fire.  Too late, I had been spotted.

"Excuse!!" She shouted.  "EXCUSE!!"
I bravely peered out from behind the pump. "Hello??" I replied.  She didn't look too scary, minus the whole waving-a-flammable-liquid-around thing.  "Umm....Hi?"  I stepped out of hididng.
"Do you need help?" She asked me, pointing to the pump nozzle.  
I stared blankly at her, while my ESL subroutines kicked in.  "Excuse?"  I countered.  I didn't need any help.  I needed to be left alone.  What was this woman saying?
"Do....you....need....help?" My Asian friend repeated the phrase slowly because clearly I was having trouble speaking English.  To further demonstrate, she swung the nozzle at her gas tank and declared, "Fill, no!"
It suddenly became clear and I smiled, "You need help?  You can't fill your car?"
Relief swept across her face, "Yes!" she replied.  "Help."
The next 5 minutes were taken up with me feeling clever, showing my new friend how to pump gas.

                                 

Dear heart, this week kicks off holiday mayhem here in America.  Chances are between now and Jan 2, 2015 you will have a moment of feeling unsupported, unappreciated and underfunded.  You are going to need help maintaining a thankful heart and getting through the season.  Nothing brings out depression and melancholy like the media’s finest pagans, lying their faces off about what constitutes a meaningful Christmas.

My new friend provided a delightful picture of what you can do when you feel blue and need some help surviving the holiday.  If you are in need of assistance ask someone, “Can I help you?”

Restore our fortunes, O Lord,

like streams in the Negev!

Those who sow in tears

shall reap with shouts of joy!

He who goes out weeping,

bearing the seed for sowing,

shall come home with shouts of joy,

bringing his sheaves with him.

Ps 126: 4-6

Look for opportunities to sow a seed when you find yourself weeping dear friend.  While you are praying for the Lord to encourage you and lift your spirits, be kind to someone else.  You cannot begin to fathom how many people find the holidays difficult.  Is your sister an addict who will be absent from your Christmas celebration?  Write a 5 sentence note to an addictions counselor in your church or community thanking them for their work.  Are you desperately lonely, missing a loved one? Look for a way to visit a senior’s home, bring cookies, read a book to a sad heart. 

Is this a broken season for you?  Are you barely able to lift your head from your tear stained pillow?  Try brave heart, to write one note of encouragement this season to one who is struggling as you are.  Helping others will not cure all the wounds in your heart, but it will help.

God of All Comfort

3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, 4 who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. 5 For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too.  2 Cor 1:3-5

And so we are marching bravely friend, into the holidays.  Into our dark world, where beautiful and horrible things will happen, where you can choose to shine brightly.  You can choose, to be a light no matter how overwhelmed you may feel.  With your God, you can be in need of help, but still have the grace to ask, “Can I help you?”

God is our strength, it’s time to fill up.

Praying for you.

xoxK

Costly Coffee

One of the challenges of parenting is the sheer amount of time it requires.  There are many tasks to complete in 24 hours.  I enjoy the demands of parenting but some days, I miss my friends.  A woman I don’t see enough is a radical disciple of Jesus who I’ll call Jess.  Jess is a five foot three-ish tiny blonde wonder.  She maintains four children, two households, one husband and is the bookkeeper for the family business.  Yet she is the type of woman who wouldn't blink if I suddenly dropped in for lunch unannounced with five extra guests.  She would look up and say, ”Karen, I’m so glad you are here!” while she set to adding peanut butter and jam sandwiches to whatever she was serving.

I fell in love with her while looking through her tea stash (an entire drawer filled with black teas, no chamomile anywhere), but decided she had to be my friend when we had a conversation about suffering.  I was having a bad day and found myself in her home, sipping tea and eating a seemingly endless supply of banana chips. 

After explaining the faith challenges before me, she started to recount the trials facing the persecuted church.  Then she brought out almonds and chocolate while she proceeded to list off biblical characters who faced overwhelming hardship.  The entire afternoon was cozy, surreal and refreshing.  It was the first time I had shared my pain only to be asked if I was blessed by indoor plumbing.  I knew at that instant, she was a treasure.

The fact that Jess gets anywhere on time is a miracle.  This particular Wednesday, she found herself distracted as she managed to get her children buckled into the car.  Bible study was the destination, but there was time to stop and grab coffee before class.  I’m not clear what had my friend so preoccupied that morning, but as a result, she raced into an unfamiliar coffee stand to get her drink.

Had Jess being driving slower, she might have noticed the sign lining the driveway.  Let me state, that bikini barista is a misnomer in the coffee business, like the terms guinea pig or king crab.  The woman work these stands don’t always wear bikinis.  You can imagine then, how surprised Jess was, to find an almost naked woman asking her what type of coffee she wanted.

Did I mention Jess was on her way to bible study?

When she had picked her eyeballs off the floor, Jess decided that acting casual was the best way to deal with the encounter.  She calmly placed her order and prayed very, very, very hard that her children would remain oblivious to their surroundings.  Her plan was working pretty well until her four year old boy looked up, caught sight of the server and started screaming.  In his defense, his mother had never purchased coffee from a bare naked person before.  Determined to remain calm Jess shouted, “Boys stop!! Put your faces in your chairs and I’ll tell you when you can lift them!!!”  She thanked her mostly naked server, concluded her purchase, drove off and started explaining. 

I thought the whole misadventure was a pretty remarkable picture of how things can go sideways.

Sometimes sin catches us by surprise and we find ourselves in a distressing situation, unsure how to cope.  Because we dislike making a scene, we tough out situation when we should flee.  Then the screaming starts….

Now the works of the flesh are evident:  sexual immorality, impurity, sensuality, idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealously, fits of anger, rivalries, dissensions, divisions, envy, drunkenness, orgies, and things like these.  I warn you, as I warned you before that those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God.  Gal 5 19-21.

Friend, before the holiday season begins, can I challenge you to do something different? Sit down and examine your heart.  What sins have you been fighting against his year?   Ask the Lord for the gift of repentance but don’t stop there.  To forsake something means to renounce or give up something valued or pleasant.  Ask God to give you the grace to forsake the sin that is hindering you.  Break up with it entirely.  If surfing the web leads to porn, take up reading books.  If talking on the phone with a specific friend leads to gossip, send an email instead.  Let’s not waste one more minute with activities that lead us to places of shame.  With God’s grace, let us enter this holiday season with hearts ready to celebrate the coming of our King.

Jess would be the first person to tell you, for the price you pay, the coffee isn’t worth it.

Praying for you this week.

xoxK

Clipped and Close

We have to talk about the budgie again. I don’t want to become a crazy bird blogger, but I need to explain Carl’s last attempt to assassinate me was my fault.   Not that anyone was concerned about my wellbeing, most comments contained inquiries about the bird. 

Carl arrived at our household with “clipped wings.”  Her flight feathers had been trimmed so she could fly but could not readily gain altitude. Clipping a bird’s wings takes skill.  Done properly, your bird gets around, but not out the window to hang with delinquents on the corner.  Done wrong, your bird becomes a drunken menace, careening across the landscape, liable to hurt themselves and whoever else they can injure in the process.

I remember thinking clipping a birds' wings was unkind and barbaric.  That depriving a bird of flight would make it depressed and forlorn.  As a result, I decided to let Carl’s wing grow out.  

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

There is a way which seems right to a man, But its end is the way of death.

Prov 14:12

I did not anticipate the regrowth of Carl’s flight feathers would correspond perfectly with the onset of avian puberty.   Height and dominance issues were unfamiliar terms.  If I knew that landing on the curtain rod was the way to attain social dominance, I would have taken out my ladder and dusted the ceiling for a while.  As it turns out Carl did it first, concluding our family system was inferior, lacking leadership and direction.  She decided to whip the family into shape by landing on people’s heads and shrieking orders at the top of her lungs.  Soon after budgie boot camp started, she realized that we were stupid and could not follow orders.  Carl added corporal punishment to the regimen and began biting any human that fed or offered her affection.  Within one month, Carl had caused a dozen fights between family members.  My husband was furious.  Carl was at risk of being put in a Panini press and displayed on Pintrest as food art.

Compassionate thoughts of species equality went flying out the window.  I was in a war.  I needed to reassert dominance quickly or die showering.   As a conservative homeschooler, I knew I needed high quality research to perform my next move.  One afternoon on youtube and my daughter and I set to clipping Carl’s wings. 

The results were immediate and miraculous.  Gone was the evil overlord budgie.  Gone was the domineering shrew.  Gone was the I-don’t-need-you-I-can-do-it-myself attitude.  She became affectionate once more.  She needed us and liked us again.  Our Carl had been humbled.

For you save a humble people, but the haughty eyes you bring down. Ps 18:27

“God opposes the proud but shows favor to the humble.” Jam 4:6

Scripture is clear regarding our God’s attitude toward a proud heart.  Carl’s behavior change was a remarkable illustration of the value of correction.  It got me thinking, has the Lord clipped your wings lately?  Have you been overconfident, which lead you to an outcome less pleasing than you had hoped? Or perhaps you thought you were clever, until you read a situation wrong, and needed to apologize to another.   There are many ways in which we tell the Lord we don’t need him, so many ways we rebuff his kind help.  We tend to ignore our arrogance until the Lord mercifully steps in to deal with our domineering hearts.

“My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord,

nor be weary when reproved by him.

For the Lord disciplines the one he loves,

and chastises every son whom he receives.”

It is for discipline that you have to endure. God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline?  If you are left without discipline, in which all have participated, then you are illegitimate children and not sons.  Besides this, we have had earthly fathers who disciplined us and we respected them. Shall we not much more be subject to the Father of spirits and live?  For they disciplined us for a short time as it seemed best to them, but he disciplines us for our good, that we may share his holiness.  For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it. Heb:12 6-11

Be encouraged this week my friend.  You are not alone as you walk down tough roads.  Our God sees you.  He intends to take you through the difficult places.  He intends them for your good, and to bring you out again.  He is creating something beautiful in you, so that you may enjoy the harvest of righteousness when His work is finished.  He loves you and he wants you sitting close and singing, not spiraling out of control cussing from the rafters.  

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.  But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows. Matt 10:29-31

Unpleasant as it seems, He would rather clip your wings and keep you close.

Take heart, and keep standing.

Thinking of you this week,

xoxKaren