Worship & Hope

I walked into church on Sunday, my eyes burning from lack of sleep, and also because I'm pretty sure I forgot to drink any water the day before.  To say I felt dry feels like a radical understatement.

I was just so happy to be there, both of my kids dressed, activities in hand and ready to worship.  We proceeded down stairs to put my two year old in her nursery.  She screamed but only for a minute.  Then she was happy to play with all the toys.

My four year old and I made our way upstairs just as the service began.  My heart felt the need of the Savior's presence, and I prayed silently that I would be able to engage in this service, even as I cared for my son.  He doesn't like to go to Children's Church and desires to stay with me in the service.  I love that he wants to be near me, but it makes it hard to feel I have any time to worship.

The opening quote was about Hope.  Is our hope that God will fulfill all of our expectations?  That what we desire out of life will come to be?  The pastor said that God's reality is much deeper and far greater than our expectations.  So when we hope, we long for God's plan to come to fruition, not our expectations.

As a parent of young children, this hit me so hard and felt so affirming.  My hope is not that my days will be easy or pain-free.  My hope is not in how perfectly I can parent, how squeaky clean my house is, or how much money I can make in a month.  My hope is placed in something much deeper than that. I get so caught up every day in what I want my life to look like versus what it actually looks like.  It is so messy right now.  I don't just mean my house-- my emotions, my ability to balance everything on my plate, my parenting skills.  It is all a jumbled mess of imperfection where I feel pretty out of control and know I am not fulfilling my own expectations!  So when the pastor began speaking of hope being outside of myself and what I desire, and in what God actually IS accomplishing on this Earth, I felt a huge part of me relax.  Hope, real hope, welled within me.

Thankful, I began to worship.

Then my four year old announced he needed to go potty.  In a much better state of mind than just a few moments before, I took him to the potty, but felt anxious to return to the service.  Then it happened.  I heard weird sounds coming from his stall and he said, "I need new pants."  I have no idea how he accomplished peeing on both the back of his pants and the front of the pant legs while simultaneously creating a giant puddle all over the floor.  But in that moment I realized that part of my act of worship this morning was going to include cleaning the bathroom floor.

See what I mean?  My life is messy.  Somehow in that moment I was able to capture the beauty of the hope that God offers.  Not hope in clean, polished, perfect behavior.  But real Hope.  Hope that transcends this Earth while at the same time healing the Earth.

My hope is in what God is accomplishing, not what I can accomplish.  And that, brings rest to my tired, messy, dry soul.

What's that you say?

I often find myself desiring more out of life.  Longing to eat better, work out more, study harder for my upcoming state exam, play with my kids more intentionally, keep the house clean, maintain deep friendships, decorate my room so that I actually want to be in there, become active in our church, be an excellent employee, balance my checkbook, pursue my husband and love him well, pray and dream about our future employment, cook dinner for the family, prepare my 4-year-old well for preschool, and the list goes on.

And I feel pressure to accomplish each of these things RIGHT NOW as in yesterday.  Yeah, my mind can be a scary place to be sometimes.

All of these thoughts flood my mind and seem to drive me to work harder, do more, be better, and achieve.  And this is not a new struggle, this is something that is common in my day-to-day life. Most of my desires are not wrong in and of themselves.  But when I get going on this jet plane, what is my true motivation?  Often, that is where the error comes into clear focus.

Lately, my experience has been very different.  And it has confused me, worried me, and left me wondering when is the right time to seek medical help.  Lately, my mind is full of ideas until it is time to act on them.  I feel pulled in 18 different directions (which, let's be honest, what mom isn't) and yet lack the motivation to do any of them.  As this wave of numbness has washed over me, I have struggled to find the desire to fight against it and I have found myself succumb to the strong pull of indifference.  For a while, I thought I was doing "better" because I wasn't being governed by my perfectionistic routine (which I have still yet to perfect).  I was excited that I was able to rest and let some things go.  And those were good things.  But what came next was different.  It wasn't simply "resting" it was bleak, blah, boring, dullness that crept in and wooed my heart.

It has taken me a lot of serious thinking and body awareness to come to realize what I was experiencing.  Finally, a word came to mind.  And it isn't pretty.

Apathy.  Apathy?  How could I be struggling with apathy?  So I read a little about apathy.  Including this quote:

Mark 14:38-41 ESV 

Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak. And again he (Jesus) went away and prayed, saying the same words. And again he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were very heavy, and they did not know what to answer him. And he came the third time and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? It is enough; the hour has come. The Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners."

Apathy.  Jesus asked the disciples to keep watch while he prayed and what did they do?  They slept.  So much for being a good friend in his time of need!!

This got me thinking.... what in the world is my apathy protecting me from?  Why am I choosing apathy over real, soul satisfying relationships?  How is my numbness keeping me from my fears?

And then I realized, once I got through my pride, that I am still fighting the same fight.  Desiring to appear perfect, together, in control, and not needy.  Only now, instead of doing anything about it, I have numbed out.  The battle still rages, yet I tune it out by simply 'exiting the rodeo' as you may say.

Except that you can't actually exit life.  My lack of concern and feigning disinterest isn't stopping reality from taking place.  Apathy isn't solving my perfectionism, it is another aspect of it.

Ugh, that is not the answer I wanted.

The best way I know of to escape apathy is to recognize BOTH what my apathy is protecting me from (my fear), AND what is causing me to miss out on (experiencing life).  I think the combination of those two answers will leave me with more than enough to chew on, if only I can find the motivation to do so.

Parenting Imperfectly

Parenting is hard.  It is an "always" sort of job that at some point in the last four years has started to feel like normal life.  Caring for little people is now firmly woven into my daily routines.  But it is ever changing.  Just when i get comfortable in a pattern, the kids' needs change and we need to re-think how we nurture them.  The ever changing part of things is exhausting.  The past several weeks I have become more aware of the selfishness that is deeply rooted into me.

I read a blog recently about how it is easier to serve the homeless and go on mission trips than it is to speak nicely to your husband and deeply care for your children.  This really got me thinking.  Serving people for a few hours one day, or even for a few months, is sustainable.  It does cost something, yet you are still able to keep a large part of yourself free from exposure and vulnerability.  When you live with people, especially people dependent upon you for their every need, it is much harder to hide the deeper facets of your heart.

I can love my kids well and serve them well for a few hours or even a few weeks.  I can be lovingly attentive to their needs.  I think there are times I am good at it.  But then there are seasons of life, like the one I am currently in, where caring for them feels like a cheese grater on my skin. It doesn't come naturally and I have little desire to sacrifice on their behalf.  I am not sure if it is related to their new developmental stages or to just my own sheer exhaustion, but lately, parenting has felt at odds with my own desires.  My commitment to my own plans has caused me to look past my kids more than once. And it has shocked me.

It has been upsetting.  I am saddened to see my own sin.  It has exposed my own need of something greater than myself and that in and of itself can be frustrating, especially in a world that glorifies self-sufficiency.  Seeing my own brokenness can, at times, be depressing.  In some ways, the depressing feelings are holy, because my heart should break over my sin.  At other times, the depression is rooted in a desire to be my own god; to attain perfection and independence that is outside the scope of what is good for me.

My sin, as awful as it is to look at in the face, draws me closer to my Savior.  It is exposes the truth. Even though the vulnerability is scary, Christ provides me more than enough when I press through my fears and embrace the Gospel truth:  I will never be good enough. And that is okay.  Christ was and is good enough for me.

For me, parenting is the route that God uses to expose my great need of Him.  It is hard. But it is good.

"Your grace is enough! Your grace is enough!  Your grace is enough for me!!"

Dream Dancer

"Step then
from the staid and somber line.
Move out in dancing
into dreams so daring;
without them you will settle for the road
that wanders by and winds to nowhere."
 --Dream Dancer

Risk

Are we waiting until we are certain we have a “safe” place to share our true selves?  I know in my own experience I test people out and demand a lot of safety before I share things that are painful or shameful for me.  But what may be required is risk to discover the places around you truly are safe.  The risk is that you cannot control other people’s responses.  So we have to decide, would we rather risk or stay in hiding?  When faced with that question, we have the opportunity to really grow and learn.  If we want to stay in hiding: why?  What are we gaining from it?  If we want to risk and discover what is true about the relationships we are in, where shall we begin?  And if we get hurt?  Are we going to let shame take us down further into secrecy and isolation?  Or will we chalk it up to risking with the wrong people and try again?  

This is not an easy process, nor is it quick.  But shame will grow as long as we stay in silence.  

Shame isolates.  If we are to stop the cycle, we must stop listening to shame long enough to have a different experience.  And this will require RISK.  You can never fully know if your friend or spouse is safe enough to share things with until you TRY.  Now, I am not recommending reckless over sharing with everyone you know.  But with those few people in your life that you already consider close to you, it may be the time to take the huge risk in opening up.  And you may get hurt in the process.  Judgement or rejection may be your friend’s response.  And that hurts. Deeply.

I know.

I have been there.  I have come out of deep hiding and shared real pain only to be left with confusing abandonment and half-hearted pleasantries.  But, even in this experience, shame does not have to win.  I have been able to process through this to see that maybe the risk I took was a good one for me, but not for the person I chose to share with.  I am able to deny the shame of rejection by realizing that the response I was given was based more upon that person’s own struggles than upon me.

On the other hand, I have also shared deeply and been met with complete acceptance.  

No human will respond perfectly, according to our heart’s desire.  That is because we are all broken and fallen and sometimes we do not have our friend’s best interest in mind.  

But it could be that people do not respond in a way we desire them to because they do not know the desires of our hearts?  Are we willing to be vulnerable and ask for what we want and need in our relationships?  What would it be like to not only share our deepest hearts but then also tell our friends what we need from them in that moment?  Would we be able to accept it from them?  Or is it somehow only meaningful to us if it is unasked for?  What if our friends truly care and want to give us what we need? 

I have been so surprised lately to find that people care about my needs.  It isn’t a game to sort through and figure out what is expected of me.  There are not always hidden agendas.  Some friends really do care and love and desire to be there for me when I need it and in the way I need it.  When I have risked asking for help and stating my own needs, I have had the opportunity to have those needs met.  And in those moments, I am able to see that I AM NOT ALONE.  SHAME DOES NOT WIN when we risk sharing ourselves with friends. 

Are we willing to RISK in order to discover safety and acceptance?