Little Cabin in the Woods

There is a certain irony in the fact that last week's sermon was about modesty.  Honestly, I had no idea it was coming up in our sermon series, even though I've been thinking about it for a very long time.  I am more convinced than ever that this is a serious issue in society at large; but in the church specifically.

Lest you get the wrong impression, you should know that this is an issue that requires regular personal evaluation and application on my part.  In fact, I began scribbling notes for this blog post 2 weeks ago when I realized that I had broken my own modesty rule in my choice of church wardrobe. 

So, here's the "rule" I've come up with that applies for makeup, hairstyle, clothes, shoes, and jewelry:

If I have to think about it after I've put it on, it cannot be truly modest.

Harsh?  I don't really think so, and here's why.  Modesty isn't simply about making sure you show more clothing than skin - although that matters greatly in regards to the purity of our boys and girls - modesty is more accurately associated with humility.  Even Wikipedia says "The word is used as an antonym of boastfulness; a modest person does not draw attention to their own real or supposed accomplishments and desirable attributes."

So, you see, I'm not even talking about whether women should wear skirts or pants (something that bears thinking about and deciding for yourself).  A more helpful and broadly applicable standard is to ask if this "style choice" requires ongoing attention to yourself.

Is the shirt a bit short, such that I have to adjust it every time I stand up? Is the hairstyle going to be unsightly and distractingly messy once an affectionate husband or child touches it?   Does my sundress fall forward when I bend down to talk to a little person, or pull off my shoulder when I pick up my handbag or have an armful of groceries?  Does the skirt require assistance  to cover my upper leg when I sit down?  Do I feel self conscious because I know that I was just barely able to zip into this one? 

That first one is personally applicable, it's EXACTLY the poor choice I made a few weeks ago.    I truly couldn't settle into worship and prayer because I was worried about my shirt being all bunchy in the back.  How silly and unnecessary.

We have to be honest with ourselves and each other about this one, ladies.  Do I REALLY think anybody cares if I never have a hair out of place?  Or if my lipstick is always perfectly applied?  And as long as I'm waxing eloquent - do I really want to be the lady who leaves lipstick on little children and coffee cups?  Nope.  Not worth it.

Now, you know how I am about being misunderstood... eek!!  I am not by any means suggesting that we should all wear flour sack skirts with long sleeve tunics, unstyled hair and no makeup or jewelry.  How sad that would be.  

Beloved preacher husband hit the nail on the head last week with his third reason for practicing modesty:  We practice modesty because to do otherwise is to allow pride to rule in our hearts.    Women, we are intended to beautify our world through careful presentation of ourselves.  The important thing is that it is all for the purpose of bringing glory to God through pleasing the eye of our husbands (or fathers, for the unmarried).  We glorify God by showing that His ways and means for our pleasure and affirmation are right, and never steal the attention for ourselves.

The most beautiful women I have ever known are the ones who truly have no idea that I think of them as such.  They are so completely unaware of their appearance, like a sweet cottage in the woods that attracts passers by not by the paint job or flower beds; but by the light shining from inside that says, "Come closer - there's room for you here."

Seeking Maturity

One thing we often miss about life in Ukraine is Borscht.  Yes, really.  If that surprises you, maybe you've never had a really good one.  The most fascinating thing about it is that there is no reliable recipe, really.  Each woman seems to have her way of making it: a special ingredient or secret method.  I learned to make it myself by watching it made over and over, talking it through, understanding the differences, and perfecting it for the palate of my nestlings.

Going into last week's sermon,  K and I had some really good conversations about what it means to be an example in community.  It's hard, I'm sure you've all realized that by now in your own lives.  As we choose examples to follow, must they be without fault?  Must they be ones, whom we would emulate in every way?  If someone is an example to me, ought I seek to be a carbon copy of her?  I think not. 

I'm beginning to think that in some ways, community is like good cooking.  We share recipes, and we usually follow them.  Over time, however, I realize that maybe we prefer a bit more curry in this dish, or less pepper in another one.  Isn't that how influence should work?  We try things out and see how they fit into our individual families, lifestyles, budgets, stewardships. 

As wife to Lead Pastor, I am just figuring out the uncountable variations of influence I am wielding.  Of the people who are paying attention at all, there maybe some who assume that my behavior is somehow the standard for feminine behavior in our community, that they must do as I do and think as I think in every way - oh my, the pressure and danger therein.  Hopefully there are many who realize that I am just a regular girl in a visible position.  I am always learning, failing, faltering, and growing.  Sometimes I am trying on behaviors I think may be required of a developing conviction, only to decide that I'm not required to carry it forward.

So, what to do?  What if I never wear dresses to church? What if I only listen to hymns?  What if we don't have television in our home?  What if we stop allowing playdates? What if we start having wine with dinner each evening?  What if my kids each have a computer in their bedroom? These are just examples of the sorts of things believers can disagree about.

A few weeks ago, I covered my head during prayer in church.  I don't know how many people noticed, or what they thought if they did.  I do know that it is a habit developed in Ukraine, and still beneficial to me at times.  That particular day I was feeling so distracted and prideful in my heart, I needed a blinder... like the mother's hand on the face of a flighty toddler.  That's why I pulled the pinkish shroud around my head, somewhat thoughtlessly as regards the perception of others.

Do you see what I mean?  I want to be an ever-more-mature and godly woman.  I want to live my convictions with poise and aplomb - never compromising, always discerning; but never judging.  I long to be just one in a spiritual family of sharpening irons.  I want to read God's Word and do what it says.

Dearest Father, may you never grow weary of me.  Make my heart and ears sensitive to the sound of YOUR voice, and guard me against the slithering whispers of my Enemy.  Lord, won't you have Your way in my life, and in my community?  Grant me wisdom and discernment as I live each day under the shadow of Your wings. May I stoutly defend Your ways, and by your Spirit may I be found flexible in my maturing understanding of the same.  Amen.

Tradition of temptation...

I’ve been thinking about Christmas gifts a lot this week.  Today is December 1^st, and all the cues of our culture say that it’s time to start spending money to buy something special for the people I love.  I just finished creating a spreadsheet of gift ideas for our family, complete with sizes and links for internet shopping.  Now, I feel sick to my stomach.

On the face of it, I really like the tradition of giving.  There are people in my life, whom I love more than I can ever say, and I am very drawn to the idea of finding unique tokens for each of them that fill in the space around my words.  Sometimes these are precious items that remind me of the loved one.  Other times, it is a piece of my personal reality that I am able to share with them, thus strengthening our connection through a book, song, or recipe.

As I ponder this, I realize that the Wise Men brought very special gifts to the baby King, Jesus at his birth.  Of course we also know that the Holy Spirit has apportioned gifts to each of us for the edification of our community, so clearly gift giving is a tradition to be not quickly rejected. 

Still, there is a stitch in my heart. Like a side ache preventing me from running further down this same path without discomfort.  How can I, overwhelmingly blessed and provided for as I am, in good conscience create a list of things I want?  Please understand, I’ve had no problem coming up with the list; but isn’t that really the problem!? 

As a Christ follower, I believe that He meets every need of mine.  I know that I lack nothing; but living my life in this secular age, I also know that the materialist monster hounds me tirelessly.  He wants to occupy my thought life and to consume the hearts of my children.  Why do I spend days, weeks, months each year on defenses, digging trench works for protection and then promptly open the way for this enemy to overtake any ground that I’ve gained?

I remember when shopping for Christmas presents was all about coming up with a clever idea for someone I loved.  There was a hint of conspiracy and excitement as I hunted for the gift others wouldn’t know to give.  That sort of shopping required me to be well acquainted with my loved one, such that I knew what would bring joy to their heart and a twinkle to their eyes.   I lost that somewhere along the way.  It seems our gift exchange tradition has been hollowed out to a mere echo of what had been.  We are left with gift cards and internet links.

It occurs to me that when those wise men brought their gifts to Jesus, they didn’t know anything about his personality.  They didn’t know his favorite color or which toys he already had.  They knew that he was a king.  They brought unto him the love offerings fitting to his position, because they knew WHO he was.

I want to experience Christmas like that again.  I am resolved to abstain from listing gift ideas next year.  If anyone should love me and know me, such that they are moved to generosity, then I am blessed and grateful.  Otherwise, I have everything I need.

Blown and Beautified: Being Who We Are

Have you ever seen a glass blowing artist at work?  With the glass on the end of his steel pipe, he sticks it into the belly of the furnace and as the temperature rises, the glass begins to glow.

The artist uses cast iron tools to shape and stretch the glass, blowing his own breath into the new piece as he goes through the process of turning, turning, turning, enlarging this side, tapering the other one, teasing this fragile yet molten ball into the shape he intended it to have and inserting colors at just the right moment.  The artist already sees the product.  He is not going to be surprised by what turns out.  In fact, there is a specific purpose for every move of his hand, timing each instrument's caress and measuring every breath from his mouth.  In the end, the artist's product is among the most beautiful things our eyes fall to. 

I think that the life of a Godward woman is something like the creation of blown glass art.  In the end there will be vases, and sculptures, and chandeliers, and beads; but do any of us know what we're going to be?  When we're first sitting in that crucible, and we feel the heat rise, and we start to melt... have we any idea what the Artist is going to do with us?

If the process of blowing glass into beautiful art or vessel is likened to life, I realize that there is much change to be expected.  Lots of pulling, stretching, melting, blowing, shaping.  How do we handle that in relationships?  

Some friends have known you since you were a lump of cold, clear glass lacking spiritual form and function.  Others met you in the crucible as the heat was rising.  Still more came to know you just as the Artist was blowing air into you, turning and pulling you into the shape He had seen all along. 

The exciting thing about watching a glass blower at work is in guessing what he's making.  As a crowd, we hold our breath while he gets started with the glass dipped from the crucible and we begin to whisper our guesses to each other, shouting our 'Eureka!' as the piece takes the form of a horse.

My heavenly Artist is working with me.  He's putting His breath into me, turning me in the instruments, heating me again in the fire when I cool off too much for molding.  Along the way I am guessing at what I'll be:  a horse?  a vase?  a bead?  The fact is, I don't know.  My mistake is in the early declaration of what I am.  Maybe I shout out, "I'm a vase!!!" and draw people to myself because they wanted a vase; but the Artist turns, pulls, and forms some more, cuts bits of glass here and there and we realize I cannot be a vase.  So I keep guessing, and I keep rushing to see the polished, finished, formed work of shining art.

Here's the thing:  when I  see the finished piece, my mind doesn't go to the hands that made it.  My first thought is, "That's amazing!  Look at the shape and colors ~ so unique and amazing!"  As if the glass had anything to do with it. 

Maybe I should think less about what kind of art the people around me wish to have on display, and more about what the Artist, Himself wishes to attach His name to.  If I let Him form me, and concern myself with responding to His instruments, then I will adorn Him, whether the onlookers admire His work or not.

Opinions and Convictions

There was a time when all of my opinions were instant conviction... white-hot and non-negotiable, they were quickly drawn and fiercely defended.  Over time I have learned to consider even my own opinions lightly until God, through His word and His people, would harden them into gems of conviction.   I have learned that sometimes big things in my own heart don't have any particular significance in the world around me and so I hold them more loosely than I once did. 

This is an issue that has me tongue-tied these days.  I believe that as his wife, I can be considered an agent of my husband.  That is to say that insofar as I am known to be a godly woman, living in submission to and agreement with her husband, there ought not be much difference between my convictions and his.  This is true in our case with one caveat:  I am more emotionally expressive and passionate than he, so I can be more opinionated and less tempered in my expression than he is.

The reason this matters to me is that as a ministry wife, it is conceivable for a misunderstanding or sense of judgment from me to be equivocated into misunderstanding and judgment from my husband.  This is true for women in general; but I submit that there is more potential for harm or good from a ministry wife.  This goes back to some of my early posts about the effect of my conduct on his stature and reputation in our community and it is the "new voice" at the end of last week's post. 

Here's where it gets difficult.  Based on what I know to be true about non-verbal communication and the power of my wordless testimony, must I temper the outward manifestation of my inner convictions for the good of my community?  Or is that just a bejumbled mess of lies to keep me from living with integrity?  How can I authentically live out my convictions without standing in judgment over the people around me?
 

It is scary to consider being perfectly open and frank about some of my convictions, for I know and love many who do not share them.  Still, I must live them out with grace and love.  

James 4:17     ^"So whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin."

That's what it all comes down to, right?  If the Holy Spirit has wrought a conviction in my heart, then it is sinful for me to ignore it with my choices. I long to live a life that is marked by grace and security.  Grace for diverging convictions and security in my position before the Master.  

Romans 14:4 "Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls. And he will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make him stand."

My desire is to foster a community that is full of faith and integrity; overflowing with love such that our convictions about disputable matters need not agree in order for us to be found in relationships of mutual understanding.  I wish to not be judged for a difference in convictions, and I intend never to wound another in that way.  

Even so, I wrestle with the knowledge that in our culture, the very presence of any conviction can be considered judgment. (click here for a sermon on properly understanding judgment.)  See how Satan does that?  My personal exercise of discerning judgment in a particular matter can be twisted into pejorative judgment of others.    

Jesus, help us!  May we be women who are mindful of the power of our convictions as found in words and deeds.  May we live with hearts wide open to the variegated nature of God's family, and may we be marked by love for God, His Church, and one another.  

 

 

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Ironic

I love Facebook... really, I do.  I confess it's open on my iMac most of the time and I love seeing what others are up to as I go about my day.  I'm sure any efficiency ratings of mine are lowered by my attachment to said community; but I can live with that for now.  The important things are getting done... husband is honored, children are educated, kitchen is busy, house is functionally clean.

What fascinates me is what facebook tells us about one another.  In some cases we know almost nothing about a person besides what they ate for dinner or what's on sale this week.  In other cases we share far too much if we're not careful.  Here's what I mean...

Most often, my FB status consists of what's cooking, a quote from my current nightstand books, links or lyrics to a great song, or other random inputs that are meant to inform and edify.  What happens on a bad day, though?  If I'm struggling in some way, it is tempting to post a status like:

"I hope this doesn't kill me."

or

"I hate it when people act like that." 

or

"Why do I never learn?"

or some other version of ambiguous thought and cryptic emotion.

 Proverbs 29:11 ~  A fool gives full vent to his spirit, but a wise man quietly holds it back.

It can be easy to find ourselves in a state of unhappiness or internal uneasiness that we don't quite know how to sort out.  When that happens, one of my besetting temptations used to be in seeking out a sister who would listen to whatever I had on my mind and commiserate with me.  This was comforting, it was validating, and it rarely challenged me to see the situation from another perspective.   That's a problem.  I spent most of my life in this habit, where I have called out to a girlfriend before I called out to the Lord.   I got off the phone feeling better and forgot to take my troubles to the only One who can really change anything.

And isn't that what I'm really looking for if I throw conversational bait, and hope someone will come to my rescue?  Someone to remove whatever burr has worked its way under my saddle?  This is my issue with facebook and its oh-so-slick-and-easy way to splatter feelings on the people around me with a few quick strokes of a keyboard.  

It is as if the status update box said not "what's on your mind?" but rather, "how will you attract attention today?"   For we all know if my status update says, "I hate it when people act that way"  the subtly hoped-for comment is something like, "aw, honey... what happened?", which is a perfectly appropriate response to a hurting friend in the context of a personal conversation in a safe and warm setting; but NOT in the context of a public bulletin board.

So, what gives?  Am I a facebook junkie or not?  Yes, admittedly I am hooked.  The fact is, I genuinely want to be known; however, I am also convinced that Facebook, Twitter, and email are not the place to really know and be known.

I'd like to think that everyone of my 649 facebook friends cares about the inner-workings of my soul.  But they don't.  They can't.  My Risen Savior cares.  My husband cares.  A handful of kindred-sisters care.  Sometimes even all of those aren't enough to assuage the spirit of unrest in me, and those days are best spent with a journal and loud worship music to recalibrate my heart until I can be a blessing to the large community again.

Psalm 141:3 ~ Set a guard over my mouth, LORD; keep watch over the door of my lips.

  

You see my struggle here, don't you?  It turns out to be quite a thing to be deliberate in all I do... I find myself asking if there is not really any room for frivolity and hilarity and fun.  Friends and family may find it laughable that I'm even thinking about this as I am quite prone to gaiety and banter. It is not that I have turned somber and serious in all things.  No, my striving is for a well-tethered godliness.  I want to be wholesomely good company and intentional so as not to regret words that tumble out before my conscience catches them.  I must never be found flippant or manipulative in my speech.

Matthew 12:36 ~ But I tell you that everyone will have to give account on the day of judgment for every empty word they have spoken.

And so the quandary deepens...  Oh, if you knew how I wrestle with this!  As a Pastor's wife who is naturally inclined to extremes, this middle ground is a hard-to-ride horse.  If I post, write, or speak with the passion that is behind my convictions I may be accused of using my position as a "bully-pulpit" whereby I mete out judgment on disputable matters. 

On the other hand, if I DON'T openly share the passion of my convictions, then I have been muzzled by the fear of misunderstanding, which backfires because I can seem aloof and uninterested in the precious people around me, though I love them dearly and am buoyed by these connections.

Much time is spent in thought, prayer, and conversation about this as I wade through the thick irony of sharing these issues in this context while I wonder where I fit now and how to use this new voice of mine.

Romans 15:5-7 ~   May the God who gives endurance and encouragement give you the same attitude of mind toward each other that Christ Jesus had, so that with one mind and one voice you may glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.  

Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you, in order to bring praise to God.

what needs saying

I really like to play cards.  I didn't know how 20 years ago; but Kevin has taught me several good games throughout the years.  Our favorite game of all is Spades.  It is a dynamic game with much strategy, beside which all other card games pale in their "luck-of-the-deal" way of winning or losing.  Spades is a partner game... you sit across the table from your partner and communicate with your bid and through the cards that you play - or don't play.  The thing is, it's supposed to be a very quiet game: table talk is strictly disallowed.  

As a new card player this was very hard for me.  How could I know what to do without asking my partner?  How can I make sure he knows the strength of my hand?  As I stumbled up this learning curve, Kevin came up with a helpful rule of thumb as to where the conversational boundaries are: If it doesn't need saying, you don't need to say it.  If it DOES need saying, you can't say it.  Read it again, it can take a minute to make sense.

Is this rule from the card table transferable into our church cultures?  I feel it sometimes.  If something doesn't need saying, then only my personal motivations of pride and hubris are at play, in which case I certainly needn't say it.  If something does need saying, I am often convinced that in fact I can't say it.  Often it is not my place to say anything, or I lack the relationship that could bear the weight of saying hard things.  Indeed much grace is required and the risk of being misunderstood is great.

In these weeks of blogospheric silence, I have spent alot of time thinking about why I blog at all, and what bears saying out here.  Because of the sincere depth of my convictions from the previous post, I have been feeling like I sort of wrote myself off the platform, as it were.  What can I say that really needs saying?  Aren't I really 'preaching to the choir' most of the time?  Hmmmm.

Tonight I am really just full of questions... what if my ideas are unpopular or irrelevant?  What if I feel passionately about things that other women don't really care about?  In the end, am I really just writing to make myself heard? That's an ugly thing... to MAKE myself heard.  I far prefer the quiet beauty of speaking with my life and not my words; but I don't know how best to do that in a large setting.  For now I will marinate in the prayer from a beloved Sara Groves song:

Why do I pray - do I pray to say I prayed an hour?  Why do I love - do I want you beholden to me?  Why do I help - do I want to hear my name called out?  Why do I sing? Chorus:  Search me and know my heart, oh God.  See if there is any wrong thing in me.  All I have ever really wanted are clean hands and a pure heart.

I wrote a blog post this morning.  I was passionate and articulate about the topic at hand, something I feel strongly about.  Then, as I try to always do, I read the post to my beloved man.  I think it’s important for him to know what sort of thoughts and words I’m putting out here for all the world to see, because we all know they can’t be taken back and they do have great power.

He listened attentively, hands clasped in front of whiskered face, soaking in each thoughtful nuance.

I finished reading and he was quiet.

“That was a bit strong, I think.”

He wasn’t surprised by its passion – he knows I have big feelings and that my convictions, once formed, are stubbornly held.

He was gentle and wise and his understated review encouraged me to think about all of what it would mean for me to put those words out here. 

What kind of man can lead you through a conversation where you see your pride and ugliness, only to send you from the room smiling and inspired to write about the larger issue at hand… how important is it for me to be understood?  Does anyone really need to know what I think about anything?

Of course the proper answer, which I really do agree with, is that I’m not all that important, and I’m certainly not a necessary mouthpiece to anyone’s sanctification process.  God uses me, I hope, to encourage and inspire His women; but He does not require me to do so.  If my beliefs are sound, and based in His Word, then there should be many others who share those beliefs and whom He can use in my stead.

This is a blow to my ego, of course.  God has done mighty and purer-than-gold work in my heart.  I am a new creature!  I am not the woman that I used to be… surely He needs me to go and advertise this for Him!  Or maybe not. 

Maybe I am a good example of what God can do because, by His Spirit, I am able to hold my tongue.  Maybe the proof of His good pleasure to work in me is that I don’t have to spread my epiphanies everywhere, on the deaf and the sensitive.  Maybe He is shown powerful and good because a once-loud-mouthed me can be muzzled.  She can sit quietly.  She is okay if no one ever reads her blog or asks her opinion.  She can trust God to do His work in the rest of His daughters in whatever time and way He sees fit.

This whole idea has brought to me a new thought about trusting God.  I need to trust Him even in my community of His people.  Silence compromises community.  If you don’t ever hear what I really believe about one thing or another, then there is part of me you can’t fully know.  No talk rules are born, and relationships are kept at arms’ length.  This isn’t how I want to do community, nor is it what I believe God created us for.  That being said, He also didn’t grow pearls in this dark oyster of a soul, so that I could just toss them around like candies at a parade.

Every good thought I have and every wise word I’ve ever said came from Him.  Inasmuch as I pray that my thoughts and words may be His, so must I remember that if they are His to give, then they are His to pass on or withhold.

The Power of Presence... and Absence.

We know about the power of presence, right?  When a sister, mother, friend, brother, acquaintance or even a stranger needs to be not alone.  I once tried it on a complete stranger.  He was a handsome old cowboy sitting in an overstuffed chair near the windows of the Gonda building at Mayo Clinic.  His hair was pure white, and his face was leather tanned.  His shockingly blue eyes were alternately filled with sadness, and clamped shut against the pain as he cried.  I don't know why he was crying, although he may have said.  All I know is that I couldn't just walk past that lonely-hearted cowboy.  I sat down in the next chair and asked if there was anything I could do for him.  He seemed taken aback just a little; but he was gracious.  He said there was nothing I could do.  His wife recently died and now he has a terminal health issue of his own... there was nothing left to do.  I asked if I could pray with him and he declined, saying that praying was all he'd been doing since she'd been gone.  I was late for my appointment, so I gave his shoulder a squeeze and said I felt like his heart needed to know that he is not alone.  His prayers are heard, his tears are collected and prized.

Sometimes people ask why I sit in the front row for three services every Sunday, and as I've been thinking through my conviction on the matter, I realized that it's the ministry of presence in another context.  I am aware of the power of my actions, and that I say so much more with my behavior than I do with just words.  Everyone knows this is true.  If I say I love you; but never have time to sit with you or serve you, how much do I really love you?

I have heard many ministry wives who abhor the idea that there is any "should" to our role.  That is, we don't like the idea that there is a bucket of expectations handed to us when our husbands are called to ministry.  It occurs to me that this may be on account of an unfortunate habit of trying to make everyone carry the same bucket.  You know what I mean:  the pastor's wife must play piano or sing and she should teach Sunday school, and.. and...and. 

Recently, my Pastor Husband used the phrase "you-sized stewardship" in his sermon.  That is what I'm talking about here... there is absolutely a bucket of expectations handed to me.  Only some of them will be met, because they are within the stewardship fitted to me and in this way, my bucket is renamed... from expectations to stewardship.  The obvious question is, how do I know which is which?  The only helpful answer I can come up with is through prayer and spiritual advisers.  The first of those advisers is my husband himself, the small circle of others includes mature believers with a like-minded dedication to the church.

One of the rocks in my bucket of stewardship is this ministry of presence.  I am here.  Or there.  I am wherever God will be most glorified to find me.  I believe with all my heart that "through the church, the manifold wisdom of God should be made known."  Meeting together is of utmost importance.  When I take my post at the front of that auditorium, my heart is at the center of what God is doing through me on Sunday morning.  I place myself at his right hand and make sure my husband knows that I am honored to sit under his teaching.  I smile, dance, and worship from my toes, hoping the leaders can see how thankful I am for them.  I listen, focus, and note-take through all three services because the teaching is that good; because the Word of God is that important; because I need this building up to pour out.  I desire to be a fixture in the front of our beloved hundreds, because the meeting together in worship is the capstone of our week and ought not be treated with the nonchalance of another event or program we choose to attend.

Recent statistics show that the average self-labeled christian attends a church they consider home and claim commitment to only 2 times per month.  What message does this send?  If ours is a church called home by 1800 people; but less than 900 of them attend on any given week, how can it really be considered a priority? As a ministry wife, I cannot change nor do I answer for the choices of each of these households.  I can, however, make as strong a statement as possible with my own behavior.  I will be there.  I am not free to join a fellowship group or serve in the nursery or sell donuts.  I am the only Lead Pastor's wife our church has, and may God be pleased to lead me to my seat each week, where an expression of my worship is this sold-out commitment to be. right. there.

So, think it through, girls...do we come in late?  Are we disheveled? Do we distract or disturb with our arrival?  Are we cranky because had to get the kids out the door by myself? Do we sit near the back and avoid being seen?  It is by our behavior that our character is known... as Christians, as friends, and my point here: as wives.

I am disfigured

"For several years MuchAfraid had been in the service of the Chief Shepherd...she loved her work and desired intensely to please Him; but happy as she was in most ways, she was conscious of several things which hindered her in her work and caused her much secret distress and shame. 

In the first place she was a cripple, with feet so crooked that they often caused her to limp and stumble as she went about her work. She had also the very unsightly blemish of a crooked mouth which greatly disfigured both expression and speech and was sadly conscious that these ugly blemishes must be a cause of astonishment and offense to many who knew that she was in the service of the great Shepherd."

~Hinds' Feet on High Places

This book is at once my undoing and blessed comfort.  I am so like MuchAfraid.  I walk with crooked feet, on which it's hard to keep my balance and very slow going on the way.  On these feet I stumble and find myself facing another direction from where I was going.  Do I re-orient myself and face the right way again? Or do I, in my haste for progress, get up and hurry away in this wrong-but-now-perceived-as-right direction?  Crooked feet may be a position of attitude that contradicts a conviction of the heart.  I do, like MuchAfraid, long to please the Shepherd; but the crookedness of my attitude can be a self-inflicted impediment to my obedience.  Our feet were made so we can walk faithfully, go obediently, and serve humbly.  Have we made them more crooked, worsening our limp by having an attitude of selfishness, laziness, or fear? Are they even further bent by unbelief?

MuchAfraid also has a blemish that "greatly disfigured both expression and speech."  Her crooked mouth has ruined her expression.  She is dedicated and authentically joyful in serving the Shepherd; but her crooked mouth is such that others may not see her joy and dedication.  This mouth has her struggling to speak with clarity about her relationship with the Shepherd and her pleasure in serving Him.

I think this crooked mouth is an issue of countenance - the expression I wear when I don't know if anyone can see me. Does my countenance, whether in joy or sorry, show that I trust my Shepherd? Is there a flame of conviction behind even my tears, shining out to show onlookers that I know He is good and I am content to walk on the path He has chosen for me?

When our mouths are crooked, we struggle to say what we mean to say.  Sometimes we can't help it.  We were born crooked - bent by sin and flesh.  The pertinent question is this: will we stay crooked?  Will we choose the familiarity of disfigurement over the often difficult journey toward a smooth gait and reliable lips?

I love MuchAfraid.  Immediately we see that far more than her own vanity or pride, she is saddened by her crippled feet and crooked face because she knows the gravity of her position as a representative of the Shepherd.  MuchAfraid worries that her crookedness will mar His reputation; that the sight of her disfigurement will be a barrier to those who would seek to know what the Shepherd is like? For, is He oafish and ugly? Is He slow and inefficient?

We must ask ourselves these very same questions and not only about our Chief Shepherd; but also for the 'Under-Shepherds' in our lives.  Husbands, Fathers, Brothers, Leaders... will we allow our crookedness to mar their reputations?  Or, might we stubbornly commit ourselves to walking stronger all the time, ordering our expressions of face and word so as to honor our shepherds on Earth as an act of love for our Shepherd on High? 

I believe our Beloved Shepherd is well adorned and glorified when we insist upon doing His bidding in spite of our disfigurement and in this way we are made right.  Re-figured, as it were, into His image.

If You Trust Him

If we are honest, we can admit that some part of us likes the idea of power... maybe not a lot of power; but just the right sort of power. Have you thought about how much power you have in your marriage? If you’re still reading this blog, you probably have. Sadly, I think too few of us fully realize the power and effect we have in our community. If you are one whose husband is a pastor, elder, or leader in the church, do you know that you can actually disqualify him for leadership based on your conduct?

God’s word says, in the first letter to Timothy, chapter 3:1-5, “1 This is a trustworthy saying: “If someone aspires to be an elder, he desires an honorable position.” 2 So an elder must be a man whose life is above reproach. He must be faithful to his wife. He must exercise self-control, live wisely, and have a good reputation. He must enjoy having guests in his home, and he must be able to teach. 3 He must not be a heavy drinker or be violent. He must be gentle, not quarrelsome, and not love money. 4 He must manage his own family well, having children who respect and obey him. 5 For if a man cannot manage his own household, how can he take care of God’s church?” (NLT)

It's possible, I could be overstating it. We are Christ followers. We don’t bend to the pressures and expectations of our secular culture. After all, the passage is largely descriptive of what HE must be. Ladies, I believe it is part of our responsibility as faithful helpers to make it as easy as possible for him to “have a good reputation… [be] not quarrelsome…enjoy having guests in his home… not love money…”

I’ve already written some about how we affect our husbands’ reputations by our conduct. You know, if your girlfriend shows up to your house for tea and she’s recently dyed her hair a horribly unnatural color, you might wonder a bit about her taste in hair color. Gaudy jewelry and over done makeup could be examples of the same thing… how we adorn ourselves as women says something about our taste, which is really a softer way of referring to our judgment, or soundness of mind. In the same way, ask yourself… is it your intention to be the bracelet that jangles annoyingly every time your husband’s hand moves to serve? Or maybe you tend to be the too-liberally-applied cologne that distracts the attention of a listener when the words from the heart are what matters?

Is your husband in a quarrelsome mood at times? How do you handle that? Honestly, this is a weakness for me. I find that his emotionally stable nature is of such great import and foundation for me, that I am too quick to be snarly and unkind if he is not quite himself. It is my desire, and I would argue part of my orders from on High, to be kind and as easy to get along with as possible. Of course this involves a taming of my pride and subjugation of my opinions in my own mind. We need to believe that all will be well even if we are not heard on every point, or if heard we are not agreed with.

Having guests in our homes is something I have spent hours thinking, reading, and praying about over the past few months. It is absolutely vital to the spread of the gospel; but I will set it aside here to be the focus of a forthcoming entry.

Finally, we approach a great enemy of us all: money. Realizing that everyone is different, I think there are a few principles here that apply broadly. We know that godly men provide for their families. (1 Timothy 5:8) These devoted men can generally become lovers of money if we ourselves are such. That is, when a husband is convinced that his wife is unhappy, he desires to make her happy if he can. If we women believe the lie that something can make us happy, our husbands’ energies can be inappropriately turned to providing that thing for us.

Even with all these areas stirred up, I have not reached the verses that are most impactful to me. Look at verse 4 an 5: “4 He must manage his own family well, having children who respect and obey him. 5 For if a man cannot manage his own household, how can he take care of God’s church?”

He must manage his own household. Do you think of your husband as the manager of your household? Is he the Steward, to whom all things are available, and under whose authority all things pass? You should think of him this way because he is such a steward. His vision, opinions, wishes, and plans are to be the priority of your heart and hands, even while he is accountable to God for his treatment, training, and consideration of every member of his household. Did you get that? My husband doesn’t answer to me, he answers to my Creator and he is very careful with the things that are his on loan.

Now, looking at verse 5, you see the connection between our households and our husbands’ fitness for leadership. I’m thinking about what it means if he “cannot” manage his own household. It seems to me that the only household he cannot manage is one that will not allow itself be managed. Maybe his position as Biblical head of household is new to all of you and there are mistakes he will make, as will you and I. Still, we must not be stubborn sheep who refuse to be led.

Have you ever heard a man say, “Happy wife = Happy life”? They’re joking… sort of. Or maybe he jokes that he’ll do something “… if she lets me.” This is positively backward. As Christ-followers, we know that life is not about us. We must stand firm and remember this in our marriages. If your husband, as he follows God, asks you if you are willing to do something or go somewhere, your answer must always be “yes”. May you qualify your answer? Of course! You can tell him that you have concerns about it, or you don’t really want to; but you must ultimately be willing to do whatever your man asks of you. When you refuse, he is shown to be a weak leader. You tell others by your refusal that you don’t trust his judgment, and if you don’t – why should they?

In all of this, you must understand that I do not mean that our men are not themselves accountable for their choices. On the contrary: they bear a great burden of responsibility.  As I write specifically to women whose husbands are following hard after God, I simply mean to draw our hearts to the realization that we can create – and not just create; but ourselves also become – barriers to their maturation process and qualification for leadership. 

Please realize, my sisters, that as the wife of a Christ-follower, it is your faith in God that spills over to trusting your husband ~ for better and worse. IF you truly trust God in all things, you MUST trust your husband.

Seeking Sisters

I am a bit concerned about being misunderstood.  That could be something of an understatement, my close friends will tell you.  Feeling understood is very important to me and is something I'll write about another time, I'm sure.  

As I read back over my previous entry, I find myself wondering if I communicated all that I wanted to say on the topic.  Of course I didn't and there is so much elaboration to be done, were I so inclined.  Most importantly I want clarify one of the ideas I was getting at and use it as a jumping off place for today's thoughts.

In case you thought that I meant you shouldn't have girlfriends, or that you shouldn't ever be able to talk to someone about your husband... I didn't.  Titus 2:4 very clearly indicates that we are to be learning from good examples and passing on the good we have learned: "Then they can teach the younger women to love their husbands and children."   How will we do this if we are not in relationships where we can talk about HOW to love our husbands and children?  Where we can share our weaknesses and shortcomings in this regard?  Obviously we cannot follow the teaching of Titus 2 without talking about our husbands and children; however we must be ruthlessly protective of their reputations and ours.

There are older women in our communities who obviously have much to teach us, and younger women likewise who have much to learn.  But; how can we tell who they are?  By their conduct, by their marriage relationship, and by the condition of their parenting experience.

Have you met someone whose children are a bit older than yours and although you realize she makes mistakes just like you, you also can see that her children are of high character and deference to her as their mother?  What about a woman who seems so joyful in serving her husband and you can see 'that look' on his face that tells you it is mutual?  

This is your "older woman".   She has learned some things along life's way, very possibly she's done some hard business with God; but you can see the fruit of that labor.  Seek her out.  Warm her soul with your encouragement.  Ask her what God has taught her, build a relationship.

Looking the other direction, do you see a young mother who is in over her head with the quickly expanding and strengthening will of her toddler?  Or a wife who cannot seem to say anything kind about her husband?  

This is your "younger woman."  She thinks that everyone else knows what they're doing as a wife and mommy.  She is overwhelmed by a seemingly endless list of what she "should" be and what her kids "should" do.  As with your older woman, seek this one out.  Warm her soul with your encouragement.  Share what God has taught you, build a relationship.

I am absolutely convinced that one of the things Satan wants to see happen in our communities is to push us to extremes.  We can be isolated: closed up, not allowing ourselves to be discipled and built up by members of our community or we can go so far in our "vulnerability" as to lack decorum and reverence, defaming our husbands and maligning the gospel. (Titus 2:5)

God's plan for us is to be intentional and deliberate.  We are to be living in community such that others can see us for who we are and come alongside us both to receive guidance and to give it.  Let us not be too proud to receive godly counsel or too timid to gently give it. 

Remember that we ourselves are older women and younger women in a relative sense.  Inasmuch as you have learned anything in your spiritual walk, so to have you something to pass on to another.  Likewise, that which you have yet to learn is something for you seek out in another.
 
Keeping our eyes and hearts on the One who "knows how we are formed and remembers that we are dust," we go onward, seeking to adorn the gospel each day.


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Christmas Giveaway:  
I am giving one copy of this book:  
The Family by J.R. Miller to someone who comments on this post.  Originally published in 1892, it is a chewy and inspiring read.  As I read t is calling me up to a higher standard of family life, so enter at your own risk!  Drawing will be held at random and your comment must include your email address so I can contact the winner.  (*Note: facebook comments will not be considered contest entries.)

Conduct (Un?)Becoming

So, I’ve been thinking about this matter of conduct for quite a while.  The first thing that comes to mind for me is my mouth.  I realize that there is a certain irony to my waxing eloquent about words, so I trust you to read with grace and know that I tread lightly.

My mother probably spent most of my growing up years praying for my mouth.  It’s not that I was a “potty-mouth” at all ~ well, except for that one time in 3^rd grade when I tried out a word I’d heard on the bus home from public school ~ yikes!  No, Mom would have been praying for impulse control as relates to my mouth, my words, and my speech. 

Not too many years ago I read Psalm 141:3  - “Set a guard, O LORD, over my mouth; keep watch over the door of my lips!” - and I realized that this was a prayer I could not utter to often.  What I am also finding as time goes by is that God seems pleased to honor this request.  I am more thoughtful than I was, less concerned about being heard, and firmly convinced that God doesn’t need me to speak on His behalf.   I am also more aware of the impact of my words.  If people are listening, as we all hope they do when we speak, what do my words, timing, tone of voice, and turn of phrase say about me?

Let’s think about this as relates to our conduct as women.  How free are we with our words?  Particularly when we are "with the girls"... is it considered acceptable to say or do things when our men are not around that we would never say in their presence? Is this a matter of seemingly harmless mice playing while the cat is away?  Think it through… is it harmless, really?

Imagine that I tell you a ‘funny story’ about how my husband (brother, father, son) was working at a task; but it didn’t go as planned.  Maybe he wasn’t as prepared as he ought to have been.  Or maybe something changed midway through and things went awry.  Maybe his attitude was prideful, stubborn, or otherwise unattractive.  These days it would make a great situation comedy or commercial to embellish this story and deliver it with great attention to the errors that make it sound funny.   My girlfriends might all laugh knowingly and feel like I’d let them in on something… they might also think a bit less of the person about whom I spoke.

Another common behavior I see in women is one that I have fought to put down in my own life.  When we are in conversation and for example someone mistakes Tuesday for Friday in their telling of an event.  I have been quick to interrupt and correct the error; but to what end?  Did it change the substance of the conversation to have it properly seated on Friday?  Maybe what I actually added to the conversation was the notion that I remembered properly while the speaker (my husband?) did not.  In this very subtle and oft-overlooked way I have shown him to be ill-adorned.

As I look around me, the most beautiful women I know are generally slow to speak.  There is a soft strength in their countenance that lends a certain magnetism to their personality.  I find myself often wanting to know what they think about life, marriage, God, womanhood, and more.  If I am blessed with a chance to talk to them, I find that there is such richness in their wise and distilled speech that I come away with more than I expected and I am changed…polished…beautified.

Let us reflect, ladies.  Keep praying with me for the Holy Spirit to be a filter on our speech.  Remember also “The heart of the wise makes his speech judicious and adds persuasiveness to his lips.  Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body.   
Proverbs 16:23-24

The Center of Attention

We've been married almost 16 years, that Boy and I.  One of the best things about our relationship is not that he thinks I'm beautiful, or that he makes the coffee in the morning, or even that we're best friends. One of the things I like best is that we both sort of harbor a suspicion in the back of our minds that we got the better end of this deal.  I'm pretty sure I "married UP" and I think he feels it may be the other way around.  

It's not unreasonable to assume that we are a well-matched pair; but here's the thing - I have a LOT of control over that perception.  Have you ever thought about how much your conduct affects your husband?  Not just in regards to how you relate to him; but what about in situations that have nothing to do with him? 

While it may be especially true for ministry wives, I hold a firm conviction that it's true for EVERY wife.  Your behavior, your speech, your attitude... every aspect of your conduct is a reflection on your husband.  Does he have good taste?  Does he encourage you to feel secure in your position?  Is he a strong spiritual leader?  Does he expect God’s best for you? Does he expect your best for God?

This is hard stuff, ladies.  In my mind there are days when it feels like a heavy burden to be thought-full and deliberate with my choices.  In my weakness and selfish pride, I feel like I’d really just like a day off from striving toward Godly womanhood. 

As I’ve thought about it, though, I believe that in reality this “burden” is like a royal mantle.  It is beautiful and extravagantly becoming to the wearer.  It is also heavy and somewhat inconvenient.  I move differently with it on, and I am careful in my activity so as not to soil this precious robe.  Sometimes I would just as soon cast it aside and be free… but then I remember that I was chosen for this honor, and I am thankful again.

I recently received a card from a young woman in our church.  She wrote, “This morning I was watching you from the choir.  You held Pastor’s Bible for him so it wouldn’t fall, and you held his hand during your song.  You look for all the little things you can do to help him and others and I just wanted you to know that God sees those things…” Here’s what struck me – I guess I know God can see those things; but I need to remember that people are watching too.  I wasn’t on stage in those moments, no one else was aware of me.  Her card greatly impacted me with this truth:  Even when I’m not the center of attention; I may be at the center of someone’s attention.

In the days ahead, I have an idea to write about specific areas of life where this conduct principle applies… are you interested?  I want you to be edified and not bored.  Pray with me, that God will spark His notions in my head and his words through my keyboard.