Pretty little checkmarks, all in a row

Sometimes it feels like God gives me too much freedom. When I am feeling the pull of ten different things, unable to give myself fully to any one, and feeling like every priority is getting too little of my attention, well, I would really just like a list. Not just general guidelines, not only ten commandments, but a detailed list. I want something like this:

Emily's to-dos today

Thou shalt remove thyself from bed when the first child calls. Feed, dress the children, and line them up neatly in front of educational television.

Thou shalt spend ten minutes with God and coffee.

Thou shalt work in kitchen for 1 1/2hrs, in three 1/2hr intervals, and no more.

Thou shalt use ten of the minutes I have given thee to catch up with current events

Tho shalt endure 18 knock-knock jokes, but thou canst redirect the child that bringeth the 19th

Thou shalt exercise thyself and children for one hour.

Thou shalt spend no more than two hours on other housework, laundering thy towels and ordering the disorder visited upon thee by thy children.

Thou shalt snuggle thy children for 10 minutes, three times, afterwhich thee may excuse thyself to do your other jobs.

Thou shalt converse with thine husband for at least 60 minutes.

Thou shalt spend 20 minutes talking about God to children, reading this specific Scripture passage, praying, and bearing the nonsensical questions that are presented you in this time frame. After those minutes have passed, thou shalt send them off to bed.

If thou has completed the above tasks and are still without sin, thou may indulgest thyself in telephone or computer-facilitated socializing. Then, get thyself to bed by ten.

I am sure the list would be long and tiresome, but at least it would be clear! If I had a nice checklist like this, at least THEN I could look at all the things still undone at the end of the day and shrug, "oh well! God didn't tell me to do it so it is not my problem!" And I could go before Him with all those nice little checkmarks in a row and say, "Here's my report, Lord! I got it all done! Now give me some good sleep tonight please, and I'll see you tomorrow!"

But there is NO LIST! No black and white job description for me, and as far as I can tell, you don't get one either.

What does that leave me with? God's Word, and the Holy Spirit, and a bunch of demands, and a sinful heart that gets in the way when I try to sort all of this out. There is generous amount of freedom, and a great deal of gray.

And at the end of the day, there are things left undone, and the things that were done were done by me, a sinner, and I see even my best is tainted.

No checkmarks, no gold star. Just me. I come to God at the end of the day with the things I have done, and in His light I see there is not much to be boasting about. "Um, here you go Lord. It's a pencil holder... I think. Or maybe a coffee cup? I guess it's not at all finished, and I'm not sure what it is going to be...and I messed up in a few places. So there you have it... it is what it is... and I'm tired Lord."

Me, commiting the demands of the day, my efforts and my failures, to Him.

No pretty checklist to make me feel good about myself.

Just a lopsided sculpture that may or may not be a pencil holder.


My head does not rest at night comforted by what I have done. And yet by God's grace, what I have done and what I have left undone is taken from me by Jesus.

I am not sure what He does with all the gray; I cannot picture exactly what it is He is making.

I do know that He takes the black, the ugly sin, and hides it in His own wounds.

And then, He takes whatever remains of my lopsided creation, and He uses it for my good and the good of His people.

Then finally, He looks on me with pity, and gives me something concrete that I am to do with myself:

"Daughter, go, sleep in peace."


But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith.


Philippians 3:7-9 

Previously published 1/2015

photo credit: screenbest web design

nature investment

This boy loves to watch nature with me

He knows how to notice

To watch attentively

Marvel at behavior

Delight in quirks

I don't want this innocent delight to go away.

I see the clouds of adolescence coming.

I can’t hold off the stormy days

but I can feed his soul well in this season

In hopes that even if he forgets his love of birds and lizards

for a time

There will remain a sweet memory of it in his bones

That will resurface one day

Perhaps when he's grieving a loss alone by the waters edge

Or holding his own child on his hip, watching a cardinal

When he needs to remember how to wonder again

It will come back to him like a song he has always known

And he will notice, marvel, and delight

 

remember, Christmas (belated, 2021)

I am here to remember….
the laughter during the game
when my mom’s terrible poker face sold her out
and everybody saw her sneak
and my dad laugh so hard his eyes disappeared
and he had to wipe away a tear

and the way dad looked sleeping on our couch
with his hand on the remote
and fox news prattling on
cozy under Aggie’s blue royal robe
the cloak, that makes her look homeschooled

I am here to remember walking with mom
and how the girls ate snow and got in silly fights
and how it was when we were still all together. 

I am here to remember that these days do not last forever
and that its OK to love them and then release them like a balloon into the sky

I am here to remember the moment
that I saw my dad as a person, a friend,
a guy with a whole big life that I know little about
with heartaches and private struggles
and hurt feelings, and a walk with God that he holds close to his chest

I am here to remember the awkward offer to help with college
love trying to give wisely, but none of us really knowing what that looks like yet
and this sweet gestured tied in my mind to my own “car payment” singular
and the dog they gave Amy that ended up being mom’s
and how gifts don’t always come with expected outcomes.

I am here to remember that they came,
they came down for a visit during a pandemic
they came through snow and blowing anxieties
they came even though they were on the vaccine list and could be called at any time
they came, they risked, they loved.

living out the vision

the first thing you’ll notice is, the vision is too big to fit into a day. It uplifts and suffocates at the same time… what can this lofty vision have to do with math facts and reminding someone to wipe the kitchen counters for the millionth time?

start from the vision and break it down: 

if the vision is to point the children to Christ, to be the mom who pours out, 

(He breathes out and she breathes in and they are given life)

the first thing you’ll notice is that it starts with Him. 

The breathing-in is essential.

and for the littler jobs, when you were young and fewer people needed you so desperately,

it may have been sufficient to breathe deeply just once a day

but for the trenches of motherhood you will need air far more often

break down the day that is moved by the vision into hours, and highlight breathing time

mind renewal time

time to come in out of the wind and rest, even just for a moment, in what is true.

the next thing you’ll notice is that your hours are limited

the vision doesn’t fit all in one day, 

the service done for each child

the work God is doing in each child

doesn’t fit on a spreadsheet that contains days or weeks or years even

and you can’t always see what is happening even when you zoom way out.

So take your curriculum and your academic goals and pray for each child

and slot your priorities into the hours

but write this part in pencil, or on sticky notes

so you can easily move these (oh so important) agenda items to the next day 

when (not if) life and God and the ever-changing needs of the people

dictate other things for your precious hours

try not to take all this rearranging personally

(it’s for your good, too.)

 

the grief of masks

I thrive in connection, comforting,  and fellowship

and I do not know how to do this thing with my face tied behind my back.

It would be arrogant to think that people need MY face

to reflect the love of God to them;

but faces? 

Don’t we need faces, isn’t it true that we are made in His image and told to reflect him?

Instead I see stifled rapport, teens at a distance, hiding in their phones,

elderly who have no lips to read give up trying to communicate

and i see a mother holding her newborn, looking down at her with masked face,

and I think, how can that baby be comforted?

How without funny faces and audible coos and connection and smiles?

If I had had to train my baby in church with my face tied behind my back,

I would have given up and just stayed home. 

Masks smother those micro expressions,

the little grimace or the tiny sigh that calls a friend to comfort, 

that communicates a cry for help:

“it’s been a hard week, i’m struggling here”

Words written in the way he holds his mouth

or seen in the subtle clench of her jaw.

i can’t see the cries for help- it’s all fabric and silence

And I can’t give a cry for help

the subtle eye contact with the sad smile to the friend who knows just what that means

or the fellow Christian who doesn’t know,

but would ask if she knew, if she could see my burden.

How does one ask for help in a pandemic, from behind a mask? 

How can we tell one glassy eyed stare from another?

Is someone going to get desperate enough to stand up in the pew

wave desperate hands and yell “I am not OK with any of this! Help me, i’m suffocating!”

but oh, the hand waving would take so much effort,

we think, as we rebreathe our air, and tiredness surrounds and oppresses, 

and we succumb again to the tired stare

and nobody can tell the difference.

We have this awful question forced upon us:

Which of our needs is greater? Connection, or safety from a virus?

Can we have both, or do we have to choose?

We cannot measure the cost of this safety measure.

But there is a cost. 

and I am carrying the question: is it worth it?

Will we go on forever with our faces tied behind our backs?

______________

If we have had the virus, or the vaccine, will we be allowed human connection again?

Why does it seem like the answer will be NO?

If it is, will we be ok with that? 

Is it worth the cost?

My intention is not to debate the usefulness of masks. I raise these questions because I think they need to be raised, and even if we knew masks guaranteed safety, I would still be asking these questions: What are the side effects? Is this “new normal” worth the price?