Seasons

When You Need to Bring Your Expectations Back to Earth

“We are running ‘the race marked out for us’ {Heb. 12.1}. That means we’re only concerned about the obstacles in our lane. if someone feels she needs to do something, then let her do it – it’s probably in her lane. But that doesn’t mean it’s in yours.

This isn’t about self improvement. It’s about aligning our lives with love in the way God created us to do. To do that, we need a lot of grace and an approach that makes sense based on who God made us. Every runner has a rhythm that works best for her.”

~Holley Gerth, You’re Already Amazing.

I sit on the front porch behind evergreens and short ‘n squatty orange pumpkins and watch the last of the fiery maple leaves pull away from their branches. The wind blows and blows, the leaves spin up and up before swooping down.

I’m spinning myself up as well which is quite a feat given the weight of expectation I carry, most of which I’ve picked up all by myself. My mind races with things I should be doing:

Clean house.

Get pictures in their albums.

Return phone calls.

Make homemade bread.

And then there are bigger things that don’t look so much like to-do’s but shouldn’t I be doing them, too?

Volunteer regularly at shelter.

Adopt orphans.

Sighing, I think how to-do lists are bully-expectations. When I stare at the list in the morning, I expect to climb Pike’s Peak and knock it all out. But by nightfall, my meager progress laughs at me. And then if I talk to my neighbor or sister or friend and discover her to-done list could run circles around mine, I wonder what in the Sam Hill is wrong with me.

But then I come across some Old Testament words in the Message translation:

“…what do you think God expects from you? Just this: Live in his presence in holy reverence, follow the road he sets out for you, love him, serve God, your God, with everything you have in you, obey the commandments and regulations of God that I’m commanding you today—live a good life.” {emphasis mine} ~Deuteronomy 10:12

There is nothing wrong with me, only wrong things for me to focus on today. The only things expected of me are to love and serve God. How I put that into action looks like whatever God puts in my lane. Today, that is picking up my husband’s birthday cake and making his birthday dinner. It is getting the kids’ breakfast served and lunches packed. It looks like Bible study and a quick vacuum of the floors and taking a friend to the airport.

Tomorrow, it might look similar or completely different.

So I start a new list of what I am doing rather than what I am not. I cheer for others as they do good things in their own lanes, but I keep my eyes on my own.

The wind dies down and a peace settles around me. It feels good to be on solid ground. Then I hear her call from the living room,

“Maaaamaaaa! Can you help me find my blue headband?”

I stand up and open the screen door, smiling afresh with the knowledge I’m not just helping my girl look for a headband. I am meeting all expectations, checking off all my to-do’s as I love and serve the God of heaven in my little corner of the earth.

What does loving and serving look like in your corner today?

November 8, 2012 23 Comments Filed Under: Faith in Action, Family, Hope, Seasons

What We Should Really Make Some Noise Over Today

By Kristen

“Encouragement is the oxygen of the soul.” ~John Maxwell

For sometime now we Colorado folks feel an extra dose of love. But all that ends today, Election Day. And praise the Lord and glory and amen because I can stop ~~fielding~~ ignoring daily phone calls from both presidential campaigns. I overhear a few of their messages on my machine, and each camp does what we expect: Criticizes their opposing candidate while praising their own.

And as much as this annoys me, I’m guilty of the same thing. Of course, when it comes to political candidates, we must vote one over the other. Only one candidate can win. There’s room for only one President.

I sometimes act like this is true in other areas, too.

I have a burning desire to encourage. But sometimes I believe the lie that says there’s a finite amount of room for lifting others up, like praising them somehow detracts from my own good. So I make the choice to remain silent. If someone is getting lifted up around here, I vote me over you.

But encouragement doesn’t work like an election ballot. So I pray the words that feed my fire: “Lord, humble me and lift others up.”

At the heart of encouragement is humility. Lifting others up automatically puts me in a posture of humility. So I tell my sister she’s a good mama. I back my friend in a sticky situation. I show my husband I believe in him. I even tell the woman in front of me in the grocery line she has awesome hair. I plant seeds of encouragement and ask God to grow them because it’s not me or them. It is us for Him. There is room for everyone to sing each other’s praises because the whole earth is full of His glory and when we praise each other, we praise Him.

We vote ‘yes’ for the sisters and the mothers and the people in voting lines because there’s space to extravagantly celebrate everyone’s gifts and talents.

Jesus – the One who had equal status with God – chose a laid-low posture all His earthly life. He remained quiet about His own good works while praising the humble and giving glory to God. May I too remember the only way up is down, and may I live this out by making a joyful noise over talented and amazing you, gorgeous hair and all.

What is one way you can lift up those in your circle of influence today?

November 6, 2012 18 Comments Filed Under: Encouragement, Family, Friendship, Seasons

For the Days You Wonder Why You Do What You Do

By Kristen

These dang dark wood floors, they hide nothing. Pretty when given attention, which I haven’t done in a month of Sundays. With my toe I make an arc in the dust. Eyeing the buffet and china cabinet, I see the same story with the furniture. We could play tic tac toe on every surface. Around the corner, piles of socks and books teeter precariously on stairs. Behind me, dirty breakfast dishes sit homeless because I still need to empty the clean dishes from the dishwasher.

I sighed a bit dejected and shake my head.

“I need a maid,” I say to myself.

By my own admission there’s no justifying a maid. Not when I’m a stay-at-home mom whose three kids are in school all day. So I’m living in the tension of my reality: I am writing 700-1000 words a day for a project {in addition to this here little blog}. Housekeeping is so far on the back burner, it fell off the stove top entirely. My project isn’t something I’m getting paid for, just something a writing friend and I cooked up. And I’m honestly okay with not getting paid for it. I really shouldn’t be at this stage of the game.

But still, one big question won’t quit running circles in my mind. Am I making the right choice? Should I devote so much time to an activity that so far doesn’t contribute to the family’s finances while ignoring the dirt and the dishes and the daily to-do’s?

I don’t consider this for my current writing project only, but writing in general.

Kids spill through the front door and homework is done, dinners are cooked, stories are read. Nightfall settles in and I’m mighty tired. I look around and wonder why I’m doing what I’m doing when progress is largely invisible and neglect flashes neon everywhere.

I’m reminded of a season a decade ago, a time with young children. After work, my husband would breeze through the front door and offer me a kiss with the words,

“Hey baby! What did you do today?”

And I would stare at him and our messy, chaotic surroundings and reply,

“I have no idea, but I didn’t sit down once.”

Then we’d both turn towards two happy four year olds and a content one year old and smile knowing that is what I did all day long, and it was worth dropping the right balls.

I hear the same message in my heart about this current season. I’m sitting down more than I used to, but the state of my home declares housework is at the bottom of the totem pole. But I believe the state of the hearts of those inside these four walls is well off, including mine.

“I had to write. I had no choice in the matter. It was not up to me to say I would stop, because I could not. It didn’t matter how small or inadequate my talent. If I never had another book published, and it was a real possibility, I still had to go on writing…It’s easy to say you’re a writer when things are going well. When the decision is made in the abyss, then it is quite clear that it is not one’s own decision at all.”

Madeleine L’Engle, A Circle of Quiet

Since I was 7 and writing poems and endless short stories in journals, I’ve felt a pull towards words. And when I’m moved towards something that doesn’t take me away from the most important things, I know it’s from God. So I work away in my blue and silver office or on my wide front porch, trusting that what is done ‘in the abyss’ brings wild glory in the heavenlies. It’s the same for you too, sister. Maybe it’s something like writing or painting or scrapbooking. Or raising babies or volunteering at your kid’s school. You do it because you must move towards the pull. It’s your decision, except not really your decision at all.

And it’s worth dropping all the right balls.

What are you creating in the abyss?

October 23, 2012 20 Comments Filed Under: Family, Seasons, Writing

The Guaranteed Gift Waiting Will Always Bring You

By Kristen

Just ask any woman swollen with child: The passing of time only makes her bigger.

Just ask any wee-watt waiting on her birthday: The passing days heighten frenzied excitement.

And outside my window, maple trees shimmy in the wind while apple green leaves flush to pinkish red. Every passing day enlarges my expectancy towards full bloom fall.

Without fail, something grows during every waiting time. Sometimes we see it in front of our nose and sometimes we feel it under our skin. But when we don’t see or feel it, we can still be sure God is using the waiting to grow something more beautiful in and around us.

The waiting does not diminish us. It may diminish something we need to get rid of like unbelief or pride or selfish ambition. But we are guaranteed a joyful expectancy in our waiting.

I easily forget but it’s true: The waiting time is a gift, and it’s just one more way believing is seeing.