Leaving Home

In a few short weeks, our lives will never be the same as we move overseas. The tickets have been bought. Our belongings are on a ship (or soon to be). The page is about to turn. As I sit here, the emotions are mixed. Sadness. Excitement. A little bit of anxiety. We’re about to take the leap, and we don’t know exactly what lies ahead.

The idea of moving overseas has never been an easy one for me. I like the stability of having a home and routine, with just a little bit of spontaneity thrown in (as long as I can return to the familiar!). As I have shared with many of you, the journey to where I am has not been a straight or easy road. The Lord has taught me much about how the losses are nothing compared to the glorious gains of following Him.  I KNOW that this is what God is calling us to do and I am willing to go. But sometimes, the feeling of a loss of “home” is really hard!

During this season of Advent, I am deeply encouraged as I meditate on the fact that Jesus left His home – a beautiful, perfect place – to dwell among us. A sinful, sick people in a dirty, filthy world. And He did it willingly, in obedience to the Father and with love for those who were lost.

Sometimes I don’t want to trade the beautiful cornfields of Indiana (or the mountains of Virginia) for the dirty streets of a big city. 

Jesus traded streets of gold for dusty footpaths.

I don’t want to feel like a little child again as I try to learn a new language. 

Jesus was God, but He became a helpless baby and a child.

I don’t want to live the next few years with no “home” where I don’t feel settled anywhere.
Jesus had no place to lay His head.

I don’t want to leave my friends and be lonely as I start over with building new relationships.
Jesus was “despised and rejected”. His own disciples deserted Him and Peter denied knowing Him at the cross. God the Father forsook His own Son at the cross. Jesus truly was alone.

When I meditate on what Jesus did for me – and the whole world – I realize that my sacrifices are so small. And I am also comforted that He truly knows how I feel.

What a generous gift (and a wondrous mystery!) that God would send His precious Son into this world! How can I not joyfully walk forward in faith, trusting that the blessing and reward is great if I lay all my hopes and dreams at the feet of Jesus?

Come Behold the Wondrous Mystery
Matt Papa

Come behold the wondrous mystery
In the dawning of the King
He the theme of heaven’s praises
Robed in frail humanity

In our longing, in our darkness
Now the light of life has come
Look to Christ, who condescended
Took on flesh to ransom us!

What I Didn't Know

A few months ago I wrote about the struggles of the early days of motherhood. I thought I knew what being a mom of a baby was about: you know – sleepless nights, baby snuggles, cleaning up snot and poop, and lots of crying. What I didn’t anticipate was the great joy of being a mother. I “knew” intellectually that children brought great joy and that they were a blessing from the Lord, but somehow I just couldn’t imagine it in my life. [Some background – I haven’t been so sure about the whole mom-thing the last few years. I always knew I would be a mom eventually, but I’ve so enjoyed the single/newly married stage of life that I wasn’t really ready to move on having kids quite yet.]

I didn’t know…

… that I would be willing to make a fool of myself just to prompt a smile or a chortle from the little dude. Dancing, singing (in funny voices), making strange faces… we’ve done it all.

… that it would be the highlight of my day to walk into my son’s room every morning and watch his face light up into a big grin when he caught sight of me.

… that his daddy and I would argue over who gets to pick him up from the church nursery every Sunday (true story).

… that watching him discover the world would bring hours of endless entertainment and laughter (who needs a tv when you have a baby??)

… that the words “You’re so cute!” would come out of my mouth 10+ times a day.

… that it would be nearly impossible to think or talk about anything else besides the little dude (sorry to all of you who have to put up with the non-stop baby talk)

… that I would love watching my husband as the daddy of my son.

And I didn’t know that I could love a little human being so much (or as Jonathan calls him: our “portahuman”). I love you, little man! Thanks for bringing so much joy to our lives.

Letting Go

Have you ever clenched something so tightly that your nails dig into your palms and your knuckles turn white? I see it every day when Levi grabs my hair and hangs on for dear life! A common refrain these days is, “Hey dude – let go of Mommy’s hair!” Of course, he has no idea what I’m saying, so I have to grab his little fingers and pry them open.

God is gently, slowly prying my own fingers open. One by one. He’s teaching me about letting go. It’s a challenging season of life for me – lots of change in a short time. From becoming a family of three to our upcoming move overseas, we’re in a season of transition and change. And it’s hard! I feel like I have to let go of nearly everything in my life from the past 3 ½ years.

I’m learning to let go of my own agenda because my son’s needs are greater than my own wants (goodbye sleep!).

In December, I had to let go of my home for 3 years and move into a new place that really doesn’t feel like home.

In a few short weeks, MasterWorks will be moving on to a new place and in a new direction. Without me. My friends are leaving. Working for MasterWorks these past few years has been more than a job. It’s been my community, my ministry, and a great joy for me. And we’re parting ways.

Then in May, we’re moving out of Winona Lake and saying goodbye to a community that has welcomed us with open arms and become our home.

I’m sorting through all of our stuff in preparation for the move and giving away the majority of our material possessions. And I feel sad. Maybe I shouldn’t feel sad about packing up my iron, blender, dishes, and towels and giving them all away (I mean, really, Claire? You’re attached to your towels?!?!). But I do feel a bittersweetness in the tangible, physical act of closing one chapter as God opens another.

I’m challenged/encouraged when I read about the calling of the first disciples. Jesus said, “Follow Me” and they left everything to follow Him. I’m convinced that if I were to ask each disciple today if it was worth it, the answer would be a resounding “Yes!” I’m not even leaving everything behind, but God is still revealing to me that I have based a lot of my happiness and security in stuff that (in the long run) doesn’t really matter.

When lots of things are uncertain and I know that my life will look completely different a year from now, I am SO thankful that my God is unchanging. He’s promised to always walk with me. A wise woman of God shared this verse with me this past week and I am comforted by His promises to me:

As I go down unfamiliar paths, He will guide me! And He will make those rough places – those hard patches – smooth. He won’t forsake me. What a precious promise. Amen, Lord, let it be so.

On Grief

Grief is a funny thing. One day everything is fine, and then the next… well… open the floodgates!

It’s been about 3½ years since “Uncle Chuck”, a very beloved, influential man in my life went to be with the Lord. I grew up with him across the street from my house, dropping by multiple evenings a week (always just in time for dessert, of course :), giving me and my brothers motorcycle rides, and once I got older, leading my first overseas mission trips.

When he passed away, the grief was deep. The loss cut me to the core. The sobs: so gut-wrenching I couldn’t breathe. But time has brought healing. To be honest, most days I don’t think about it (that’s not too hard when I am so far removed in time and geography from my childhood home). And even when I do think of Uncle Chuck, there is some somberness, but mostly I smile because of the many good memories. But last week as I was thinking about my/our future plans to move overseas, this thought floated across my mind, “He would be so proud of me.” And the grief took my breath away. It was compounded by my next thought, “I wish he could meet my son, Levi. He would have loved him.” And I remembered that he didn’t even make it to my wedding because of his illness. Oh the tears, ya’ll.

He came over so often we even have a
picture of him walking through our front door!

I am grateful for this man’s influence in my life. I am thankful that he did have the chance to meet Jonathan (and vice versa). I am thankful for his leadership on the summer mission trips that were the catalyst for giving me a missional heart.

Thank you, Uncle Chuck. I am filled with joy that you have heard the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” I can’t wait to see you again.

Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side.

Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.

Leave to thy God to order and provide;

In every change, He faithful will remain.

Be still, my soul: thy best, thy heav’nly Friend

Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul: when dearest friends depart,

And all is darkened in the vale of tears,

Then shalt thou better know His love, His heart,

Who comes to soothe thy sorrow and thy fears.

Be still, my soul: thy Jesus can repay

From His own fullness all He takes away.

Be still, my soul: the hour is hast’ning on

When we shall be forever with the Lord.

When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone,

Sorrow forgot, love’s purest joys restored.

Be still, my soul: when change and tears are past

All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.

Reflections on the first 3 months of Mommyhood

This is real life!

I have a confession: Sometimes I don’t want to be a mom. Don’t get me wrong – I love my son! I really do. But sometimes when I just can’t take the crying anymore, when every feeding and naptime is a battle, when I remember the freedom that I used to have to hang out with friends wherever and whenever… Sometimes I sit in my house and cry because it is SO HARD to be mom to a little one 24/7, and I just want things to go back to how they were before.

Hearing the stories of those who want to be mommies but aren’t able to or have lost their own little ones puts everything in perspective for me (one particular momma’s story that has really touched me recently can be found on her blog here). Their stories convict my complaining heart and turn my broken prayers into grateful praises to the Lord for how He has blessed me. I have an easygoing, happy, healthy little dude, and I am thankful. Lest I paint a too dreary picture of motherhood (especially for those of you who have yet to have kids – don’t let me scare you!), let me say that there are many times of joy and laughter. So many. In reality, more of my time is spent smiling and laughing with my son rather than crying. My heart melts when he smiles at me every morning from his crib. His baby giggles are soo cute I can’t help but laugh along with him every time. I just think that we are often guilty of painting a picture of an idyllic life of perfection.

It’s so easy to put on a front of being the “perfect” mom – I’m guilty of that. I look at my own Facebook page and if you were a stranger looking at it for the first time, you might think that I have a son who is always smiling (who majors in being cute) and that motherhood is a breeze for me. It’s not. Let me be honest: being a mommy is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I’ve struggled in the past 3 months more than I ever thought I would. There were many days of tears! If you know me well, you’ll know that I tend to succeed at most everything I do (that’s because I usually only attempt things I know I can do! =P). Well, motherhood is clearly not that way. And my life isn’t perfect by any means! Just ask my husband about the time he came home a few weeks ago and I was curled up in bed sobbing into my pillow because I was just SO DONE for the day.

Part of me thinks that I should end with something “spiritual” to wrap it all up with a pretty bow to close, but I am at a loss. There are lots of things I could share, but I would probably be repeating someone who could share truth much more eloquently than me (see the list of resources at the bottom of this post for all that good stuff). Mostly I just wanted to be real, because I think that is often lacking in our lives today, especially in the social media world. I will say to close though: I love my son. He is the cutest thing that ever happened to me, and he brings me great joy. Mommyhood is hard, but it is also good. God is good. He is faithful. And His grace is sufficient. Onward and upward as we fix our eyes on Jesus, Mamas!

[As a side note: Those of you who have more than one child are probably like, “Just wait until she has more than one!” I confess – I don’t know how you do it! I am sure, though, that God gives grace upon grace as needed.]

Resources that have encouraged and blessed me:

·       CD: Hidden in My Heart: A Lullaby Journey Through Scripture (3 volumes)

·       Book: Mom Enough

·       Blogpost: “Dear Mama of Littles” by Christine Hoover

·       Blogpost: “When Mothering is Hard and No One Sees” by Shalene Roberts

Remember

Every year a different aspect of Holy Week stands out to me. As I get older, God reveals to me different aspects of the wonderful sacrifice, the painful suffering, and the glorious resurrection that not only makes us right with God, but also gives us great hope for future eternal life. This year, I’ve been struck once again by the connection to the Passover, and the idea of “remembering.”

Remembering was a very important part of God’s commands to the Israelites. They were to remember the Sabbath day (God’s rest) by keeping it holy. In Numbers 15:39 they were to put tassels on the ends of their garments to remember the Lord’s commands, and not follow the “lusts of their hearts.” Probably the most important act of remembering was the Passover. In Deuteronomy 16:1 God commands the Israelites to observe the Passover to remember the moment they left Egypt and were freed from slavery.

The Last Supper is often just associated with Jesus’ death. And while this is true, we must remember that they were celebrating Passover, remembering the Israelites’ freedom from slavery. Little did the disciples know how this remembrance would take on new meaning in the following days. Jesus said, after breaking the bread. “This is my body given (broken!) for you; do this in remembrance of me.” Only after his resurrection did they finally understand what this really meant.

To me, Jesus’ death and resurrection finds its parallel in the Israelites gaining their freedom from the yoke of the Egyptians. Because of Jesus’ work, we are free from yoke of sin today. The work is finished, we are freed from slavery. However, in today’s age, between the two comings of Christ, we are as the Israelites, “wandering in the wilderness.” God leads us, as by the pillar of fire and cloud, by His Word. He provides for us, as with manna, with material possessions. As the Israelites often grumbled, desiring to return to slavery when God was already providing for them, we often desire sin, not realizing that it puts us back into slavery. At times, our lives today feel like going through wilderness. How often we fool ourselves into thinking that life was better when we were in sin! How often we forget we will eventually arrive in the Promised Land!

How often we as humans forget. Thanks be to God for giving us tools to remember. When we take communion, when we remember the Passover, let us remember what God did for us through Jesus in freeing us from the slavery of sin. Let us also remember his provision through the wilderness and the hope of the Promised Land for eternity!

The Hunger Games: My Take

I just finished reading The Hunger Games trilogy for the first time. And for the past week I have had hundreds of thoughts swirling around in my head as strong emotions churn throughout me. Needless to say, Suzanne Collins is a powerful writer.

If you have not read the trilogy, you should go find a summary online since the rest of this post won’t make sense if you don’t know the story. There are quite a few opposing opinions on this series in Christian circles: Is it merely an exciting story full of gore, or is there anything redemptive? What about the violence? Today I simply want to offer some of my insights and reflections. And…I will be the first to admit that my reading of The Hunger Games is colored by my worldview. So with that in mind, here we go.

WARNING: Spoilers abound.

Throughout the series, we journey with Katniss as she struggles to separate her feelings for 2 important boys in her life: Gale and Peeta. In the end, she chooses Peeta because she realizes that “…what I need to survive is not Gale’s fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise the life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that.” (Mockingjay, 388) Read an excellent article on this very topic here.

I think that there is a part of every girl that longs for someone like Peeta in their life – solid, sacrificial, loving, life-giving. As I contemplated, I realized…I DO have that already in my life! And no, I’m not talking about Jonathan (though I love him dearly and am VERY thankful for him!). I have Jesus Christ. HE is the Bread of Life. He is my solid foundation. He is the Lover of my soul. He gave His life for mine! Though it is probably not the author’s intention (and maybe I’m reading too much into it), I can’t help but think that in many ways, Peeta acts as a Christ-like figure in the trilogy. Think about it:

Peeta is a baker’s son and once saved Katniss’s life by throwing her bread.

Christ is my Bread of Life.

Peeta loves Katniss unconditionally, even when she doesn’t love him back.

Christ loves me unconditionally, even when I am unfaithful to Him.

Peeta experiences the Games with Katniss and is able to empathize because he knows exactly what she’s been through.

Christ empathizes with us because He was fully man and has been tempted in every way that we have. (Heb. 4:15)

Peeta calms and comforts Katniss during her nightmares.

In the same way, Christ wraps His arms around me and calms my fears.

Peeta is the groom. Katniss is the bride.

Christ is my Groom. I am His bride.

Peeta represents life and goodness and hope.

Christ IS life. He is the Giver of good things. He is Hope.

And the biggest of all:

Peeta is willing to sacrifice his life to save Katniss’s life. Katniss talks a lot about “owing” those around her, especially Peeta.

Jesus Christ actually gave His life for mine. Do I not owe him my life?

Of course, Peeta is only human, so the analogy breaks down after awhile. But you get the idea.

In the books, we are forced to confront the hopeless reality of human depravity. In Mockingjay, Katniss – the heroine and antagonist – even recognizes it in herself: she describes herself as “Violent. Distrustful. Manipulative. Deadly.” (232). In the end, it comes as no surprise (to me) that she votes “yes” to a Games using tributes from the Capitol. Or that she kills President Coin. Or that she is driven to the point of suicide. Because ultimately, her actions mirror my own deadly, avenging heart. As part of our human nature, we long to repay death with death, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. But Christ has a better way – outlined in Matthew 5:38-48.

Maybe it’s just me and I’m too sensitive to pain and loss, but I was overcome by a sense of darkness and despair that I couldn’t shake after finishing the series. I wept the night that I finished the 3^rd book because of the enormity of hopelessness and darkness that I felt. While the ending of the series was as “happy” as it could have been without Christ, I still longed for so much more!

J.W. Wartick says it well in this reflection:

“I long for that comfort of the Redeemer. There seems to be no hope in the [Hunger Games] that things will be made right, only that eventually, the nightmares may get better. Having the comfort of redemption and hope, I can’t help but wish for that in the world of Panem–a Redeemer to come and wash away the tears. And so, because there is no such Redeemer, I see the stories as a reflection of the brutal reality of a world without God. In such a world the best that can be hoped for is that the nightmares may one day end; that children may have a better life than their parents. But ultimately, it is a hard reality, one in which there is no true hope, no way to atone for past wrongs.”

Ultimately, Collins is successful in setting up the problem without giving us the solution. I think The Hunger Games is an excellent catalyst for discussion; however, I would not recommend this for younger readers. The books are violent and dark. I am old-fashioned – I don't think it is appropriate for middleschoolers or even highschoolers necessarily unless there is someone who can talk through the complex moral and ethical issues that the author deals with throughout the story. You could see it as a commentary on poverty, war, government, where our society is headed…but ultimately, Collins dives into the depths of what really makes us human – what is it that makes us more than animals? Anything? What is love? What is sacrifice? What is the proper response to death and violence? Where do we find hope?

There is so much more I could write about, but I would probably just be repeating what has already been said. Instead, you should just read the articles that are linked throughout this post (and here’s one more on Christian themes found in the trilogy). Many of them were influential in my thinking as I tried to sort out my thoughts.

For those of you who are wondering, I do think that this is a worthy read (I only speak for the books, not the movie since I haven’t seen it). Might I suggest that if you do decide to read them (or already have), read them more than once. The first time you’ll just be so caught up in the story that your mind won’t really dwell on the deeper issues presented.

Finally, I came across this just today:

What do you think? Do you agree with Sheldon, or do you think that in order to truly appreciate our salvation we should delve into the depths of sinful humanity? Is reading something like The Hunger Games unnecessary because we already see so much of human depravity in real life and we should dwell on “whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, etc.” (Phil. 4:8)? No doubt, the books are dark. But is there enough eye-opening truth in the books that makes it redemptive reading? You tell me. I welcome your thoughts.