Until 2 years ago I thought that zwieback (I pronounced it zoo-E-back)was the hard dry toast you purchase at the grocery story in baby blue packages with a smiling little cherub on the cover. I remember giving it to my babies when they were teething, and acting very unlike smiling little cherubs. It was the consistency of a two by four so that the little angels happily could chew on it for hours, never breaking off a single chunk large enough to choke on, before it turned to mush.
In the intervening years I went through a divorce and spent years alone. When my second husband and I married a couple of years ago, rescuing each other from loneliness, celibacy, and single parenthood, I learned some important things. The rock hard stuff in the store is not real zwieback, and it is pronounced swee-baac.
Real zwieback is a tradition dating back so many generations that no one remembers when it started. Fresh baked zwieback is the lightest, softest, sweetest dinner roll ever.
Some brilliant cook invented Zwieback long before I was born and bread machines were invented. My mother-in-law, Marlene, is famous for making the best zwieback on three continents. She is suffering from Alzheimer's, so a few months ago she and my father-in-law invited me to her house to make zwieback with her so that she could pass on treasured generational zwieback secrets. I knew I was in trouble the minute she began warming the utensils we were to use. Making zwieback like hers is a science, requiring precision. I am a terrible scientist.
This Easter I am making zwieback alone for the first time. Slightly intimidated by Marlene's reputation, I glanced at the recipe, and googled "scald milk". The Cooking-for-Modern-Clueless-Idiots website said that scalding milk began back when milk came from cows instead of from grocery stores. Heating the milk to near boiling killed dangerous bacteria and the enzymes that kept dough from thickening. The website said that scalding is unnecessary now in the days of pasteurization. Scalding already pasteurized milk is probably a step we take just because it has always been done this way. It is like the story my mother tells. A woman learned from her mother that she should trim the ends off a roast before putting it in the oven. After years of doing this, she asked why this step was necessary. Mother didn't know, so she asked her grandmother. The sage old woman answered. "I always did that because the roast wouldn't fit in my pan!" I scalded the milk anyway, just in case.
I finished the delicate zwieback-made-with-scalded-milk dough mixing it gently in a warm bowl. Getting the right consistency required using more than 16 cups of flour even though the recipe calls for only 4 - 8 cups. It was written down by a person determined to make sure that no one attempting to follow it could possibly succeed.
I gently tucked the finished dough into a pre-warmed bowl, covered it with a fresh towel, and left it to rise in peace and quiet. It grew large, light, and baby soft. The recipe said to let the dough rise to twice its original size then "punch it down". I obeyed. Laying aside all the earlier gentleness I used the cooking skills I acquired in kickboxing class throwing undercuts and right hooks at my beloved dough. After knocking all the air out of it, I walked away. The ball of dough recovered from its shock, and gradually struggled back up to its former fluffy glory, only to be punched down again. Three times. I felt for the poor dough. I related to it. It couldn't see my perspective or know that the times of being uncovered and punched down are as crucial for preparing it for its delicious destiny as the times of warmth and comfort.
As the scent of baking zwieback fills my kitchen, I realize that God is like an old-style cook. Sometimes He puts us in warm sunny windows to grow in quiet comfort. Sometimes he lets life knock all the air out of us, then seems to walk away. He does it repeatedly, and He does it because he loves us. There is a delicious destiny ahead for us.
That's it. Gotta go take soft golden brown zwieback from the oven.
Beth
This post can also be seen on my other blog, thosewhosee.blogspot.com.
Showing posts with label encouragement. Show all posts
Showing posts with label encouragement. Show all posts
Monday, April 18, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
The Battle Cry of the Weakling (a paraphrase of Isaiah 50, Nehemiah 4, II Timothy 1)
The quarry from which I was dug has no sandstone. I’m hewn of flint, partnered with steel, sparks fly. I fan the flame, the spirit of power, of love, of self-control. Blazing arrow-taunts fly at me, “What does she think she is doing? She is a weakling, the job is colossal. She doesn’t have the resources or qualifications ...” I’m not shamed. Rescue is near. I set my face like flint and shout back, “Who’s next? You want a piece of me?” When my Evil opponent steps up I will wear him out like a rag, a gnawing little moth‘ll finish him off. They shake their heads. “Lord help her.” They say. But see, he does. The Lord does help me.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Tales of the Restoration: Some Things are Worth Doing Badly
Just as ancient walls around a city protected its inhabitants, people have "walls", or boundaries, we use for protection. When skin is opened through a wound, infections can enter the body. When we are wounded relationally our protection is likewise damaged, and the enemy has easy access to our lives. He uses our wounds to infect us, to rule us, to keep us in trudging along as his good little slaves. He hates it when we rebuild, because if we succeed, he will not longer be able to breach our boundaries, and rule us. We will no longer be slaves, we will be free.
When we begin to rebuild, the enemy often attacks with words first. He attacks our strength. (See "Tales of the Restoration: Weakness") He also attacks our capability and spirituality.
When the Jews of Jerusalem began to rebuild their wall, their enemies, local leaders who enjoyed their de facto rule over Jerusalem, began taunting. "Now when Sanballat heard that we were building the wall, he was angry and greatly enraged, and he jeered at the Jews. And he said in the presence of his brothers and of the army of Samaria, 'What are these feeble Jews doing? Will they restore it for themselves? Will they sacrifice? Will the finish up in a day? Will they revive the stones out of the heaps of rubbish, and burned ones at that?' Tobiah the Ammonite was beside him, and he said, 'Yes what they are building--if a fox goes up on it he will break down their stone wall!' Nehemiah 4:1-3 ESV
When Nehemiah's enemies shouted their criticism of the capabilities of his building force, they were most likely telling the truth! The workers were a hodgepodge collection of people from every strata of society, goldsmiths, perfumers, merchants, rulers, temple servants, priests, and entire families including daughters. Not a single person was specifically identified as a stone mason! "Archaeological evidence confirms that the walls were indeed of inferior construction...By and large the work of God in the world is not done by experts." (Michael Riley, The Spiritual Formation Bible commentary on Nehemiah)
Nehemiah and his crew of non-professional builders threw up the city wall in record time. The fact that they were not qualified to do the work, did not keep Nehemiah from doing what God was calling him to do. What if Nehemiah had taken Sanballat's words to heart? What if he had said, "You know, he's right. Have you seen that section by the sheep gate? The stones aren't even straight. It won't be anything like Solomon's wall. We'd better back off and wait for real builders to do this." Fortunately Nehemiah did not allow the true, but malicious, criticism that he and his people were neither professionally nor spiritually qualified, to slow him down. He pressed on anyway.
I enjoy dabbling and have extensive experience doing a wide variety of things badly, so this idea doesn't bother me too much. On the other hand, "if it is worth doing, it is worth doing right" people will likely hate this thought. I stand by it. A good insistence on quality can be twisted into discouragement and an excuse to quit. Sometimes, in a season of restoration, God calls us to do things that are outside our training and skills, things we are not capable of doing as well as we would like. In the entire list of laborers in Nehemiah 3 only one group is criticized, the Tekoite nobles who "would not stoop to serve their Lord." (Nehemiah 3:5. ESV)
Blessings,
Beth
For background information about Nehemiah's story, see earlier blogs entitled Tales of the Restoration.
When we begin to rebuild, the enemy often attacks with words first. He attacks our strength. (See "Tales of the Restoration: Weakness") He also attacks our capability and spirituality.
When the Jews of Jerusalem began to rebuild their wall, their enemies, local leaders who enjoyed their de facto rule over Jerusalem, began taunting. "Now when Sanballat heard that we were building the wall, he was angry and greatly enraged, and he jeered at the Jews. And he said in the presence of his brothers and of the army of Samaria, 'What are these feeble Jews doing? Will they restore it for themselves? Will they sacrifice? Will the finish up in a day? Will they revive the stones out of the heaps of rubbish, and burned ones at that?' Tobiah the Ammonite was beside him, and he said, 'Yes what they are building--if a fox goes up on it he will break down their stone wall!' Nehemiah 4:1-3 ESV
When Nehemiah's enemies shouted their criticism of the capabilities of his building force, they were most likely telling the truth! The workers were a hodgepodge collection of people from every strata of society, goldsmiths, perfumers, merchants, rulers, temple servants, priests, and entire families including daughters. Not a single person was specifically identified as a stone mason! "Archaeological evidence confirms that the walls were indeed of inferior construction...By and large the work of God in the world is not done by experts." (Michael Riley, The Spiritual Formation Bible commentary on Nehemiah)
Nehemiah and his crew of non-professional builders threw up the city wall in record time. The fact that they were not qualified to do the work, did not keep Nehemiah from doing what God was calling him to do. What if Nehemiah had taken Sanballat's words to heart? What if he had said, "You know, he's right. Have you seen that section by the sheep gate? The stones aren't even straight. It won't be anything like Solomon's wall. We'd better back off and wait for real builders to do this." Fortunately Nehemiah did not allow the true, but malicious, criticism that he and his people were neither professionally nor spiritually qualified, to slow him down. He pressed on anyway.
I enjoy dabbling and have extensive experience doing a wide variety of things badly, so this idea doesn't bother me too much. On the other hand, "if it is worth doing, it is worth doing right" people will likely hate this thought. I stand by it. A good insistence on quality can be twisted into discouragement and an excuse to quit. Sometimes, in a season of restoration, God calls us to do things that are outside our training and skills, things we are not capable of doing as well as we would like. In the entire list of laborers in Nehemiah 3 only one group is criticized, the Tekoite nobles who "would not stoop to serve their Lord." (Nehemiah 3:5. ESV)
Blessings,
Beth
For background information about Nehemiah's story, see earlier blogs entitled Tales of the Restoration.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Tales of the Restoration: Weakness
But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even the things that are not, to bring to nothing the things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. 1 Corinthians 1:27, ESVI have been riveted by pictures of mountains of rubble caused by the earthquake and tsunami in Japan. I am saddened by their devastating loss. How will they ever rebuild? How will they even clear so much rubble? Sometimes life feels like that. The destruction is massive and we are not up to the task.
Our enemy, ever an opportunist, uses this discouragement. When Nehemiah began leading a massive rebuilding effort with inadequate resources and inexperienced builders, his enemies attacked with words instead of with weapons. "What are those feeble Jews doing?"
God is creative. Satan isn't. He is still using the same tactics thousands of years later. As soon as we begin rebuilding after a loss he begins attacking confidence. "What dd you think you're doing? You aren't strong enough, physically, emotionally, spiritually, relationally...to rebuild this huge mess."
If the enemy successfully shifts our focus to our own feebleness, he wins, because he is right. We are not strong enough to rebuild desolated lives.
The good news is, we are not the foremen of our own restoration and we are not building alone. I love Nehemiah's phrase "The good hand of my God was upon me". That changes everything. If the restoration project is our own, it is doomed to failure. If it is God's, the end product may look different than our blueprint, but it won't fail.
When the enemy paused to take a breath in the midst of hurling insults, Nehemiah resisted the urge to hurl insults back. Instead, like a bullied younger brother he turned to someone much stronger. He hid behind him begging, "Beat them up for me, God". It was true Nehemiah and his Jews were feeble. But God was not.
We are feeble. God is not.
If the enemy is whispering discouragement to you, saying you are too weak, turn to the good hand of your God. He has his hand on you. Truly.
Until next time,
Blessings,
Beth
For background information about Nehemiah's story, see earlier blogs entitled Tales of the Restoration.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Tales of the Restoration: Verbal Smart Bombs
Remember the old nursery rhyme "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me"? Lies, all lies. Words are deadly weapons. When destructive words become lodged in our thoughts, they do great damage. Words can end a reconstruction project before it has really begun.
Rebuilding the wall around Jerusalem was just getting underway when Nehemiah's enemies began lobbing smart bombs at it. The bombs were insidious weapons constructed almost entirely of truth. Truth has explosive power. There was untruth too, subtle and silent, almost undetectable, just enough to penetrate, poison, and kill. Each verbal bomb was carefully aimed, and there was an entire arsenal of them.
Insults were aimed at the builder's strength, capability, and spirituality. He tried to discourage them by pointing out the enormity of the task and that their resources were limited and inferior. He finished by sarcastically poking fun at the poor quality of the work they had already done.
"What are these feeble Jews doing? Will they restore it for themselves? Will they sacrifice? Will they finish up in a day? Will they revive the stones out of the heaps of rubbish, and burned ones at that?...Yes, what they are building--if a fox goes up on it he will break down their stone wall!" (Nehemiah 4:1-3)
Millenia later, the Enemy is still using the same weaponry. When Christians begin to restore and rebuild he tries to rob us of courage so that we will quit. Ironically, it is only because the project has every possibility of success that he attacks, attempting to convince us it is doomed to fail.
More next time. Until then keep building!
Blessings,
Beth
Rebuilding the wall around Jerusalem was just getting underway when Nehemiah's enemies began lobbing smart bombs at it. The bombs were insidious weapons constructed almost entirely of truth. Truth has explosive power. There was untruth too, subtle and silent, almost undetectable, just enough to penetrate, poison, and kill. Each verbal bomb was carefully aimed, and there was an entire arsenal of them.
Insults were aimed at the builder's strength, capability, and spirituality. He tried to discourage them by pointing out the enormity of the task and that their resources were limited and inferior. He finished by sarcastically poking fun at the poor quality of the work they had already done.
"What are these feeble Jews doing? Will they restore it for themselves? Will they sacrifice? Will they finish up in a day? Will they revive the stones out of the heaps of rubbish, and burned ones at that?...Yes, what they are building--if a fox goes up on it he will break down their stone wall!" (Nehemiah 4:1-3)
Millenia later, the Enemy is still using the same weaponry. When Christians begin to restore and rebuild he tries to rob us of courage so that we will quit. Ironically, it is only because the project has every possibility of success that he attacks, attempting to convince us it is doomed to fail.
More next time. Until then keep building!
Blessings,
Beth
Monday, February 21, 2011
Tales of the Restoration: Stepmother Superhero
I have a new superhero.
There are plenty of examples of wicked stepmothers. Stepmother heroes are much more difficult to find, but I think I just stumbled across one.
Better yet, my new stepmom hero lived during the time of the restoration, the time I have been learning about, and using as a model.
When Nehemiah was cupbearer to the king, Artaxerxes was the king. His father was Xerxes, the King Xerxes who made Esther queen. That makes Esther Artaxerxes' father's wife -- his stepmother!
Listen the this quote from Halley's Bible Handbook, p235.
"Esther most probably was still alive, and an influential personage in the palace, when both Ezra and Nehemiah went to Jerusalem. Our guess is that we have Esther to thank for Artaxerxes' kindly feeling toward the Jews and his interest in having Jerusalem rebuilt."
Picture this, the mild mannered queen stepmother glides quietly along the passages of the women's palace. Few know that sweeping red cape she wears is not merely the royal garb of a queen, it marks her as SUPER STEPMOM! In her role as Super-Queen-Stepmother she changes the course of history, again.
We don't have proof that Esther was the behind the scenes force that moved the powerful hand of the king, but she very well might have been. Nehemiah chapter 2 makes a point of mentioning that the queen was sitting beside the king when Nehemiah asked for leave to go the Judah. Could it be that the older queen Esther was tutoring her young successor in the art of moving the hand of a king? If so, the young queen learned her lesson well. Maybe she took a lesson from Esther, when she diverted the king's attention away from the weighty political issues associated with helping a troublesome ancient enemy rebuild the wall around their city. It was simple. All she had to do was whisper in the king's ear, "ask Nehemiah how long he will be gone". Maybe.
Maybe Esther didn't say a word. Maybe her Jewish identity combined with her winsome personality were enough to give the King a positive feeling toward the Jews and want to help them, reversing the edicts of earlier Persian monarchs. Probably Esther never even realized the full extent of the impact she had. Wouldn't it be great to sit down for tea with queen Esther in Heaven and ask her to tell the whole story, now that she knows it, complete with the details women crave?
No matter how she did it, I love the idea that Esther's influence extended well beyond the events in the book of Esther, into her stepson's life, and cleared the way for the rebuilding of the wall in Jerusalem.
It is too soon to know what influence we will have. We may never know how our modeling impacts the generations that follow us and influences the choices they make. Our job is to be the simple people God calls us to be in the life he gives us to live.
There are plenty of examples of wicked stepmothers. Stepmother heroes are much more difficult to find, but I think I just stumbled across one.
Better yet, my new stepmom hero lived during the time of the restoration, the time I have been learning about, and using as a model.
When Nehemiah was cupbearer to the king, Artaxerxes was the king. His father was Xerxes, the King Xerxes who made Esther queen. That makes Esther Artaxerxes' father's wife -- his stepmother!
Listen the this quote from Halley's Bible Handbook, p235.
"Esther most probably was still alive, and an influential personage in the palace, when both Ezra and Nehemiah went to Jerusalem. Our guess is that we have Esther to thank for Artaxerxes' kindly feeling toward the Jews and his interest in having Jerusalem rebuilt."
Picture this, the mild mannered queen stepmother glides quietly along the passages of the women's palace. Few know that sweeping red cape she wears is not merely the royal garb of a queen, it marks her as SUPER STEPMOM! In her role as Super-Queen-Stepmother she changes the course of history, again.
We don't have proof that Esther was the behind the scenes force that moved the powerful hand of the king, but she very well might have been. Nehemiah chapter 2 makes a point of mentioning that the queen was sitting beside the king when Nehemiah asked for leave to go the Judah. Could it be that the older queen Esther was tutoring her young successor in the art of moving the hand of a king? If so, the young queen learned her lesson well. Maybe she took a lesson from Esther, when she diverted the king's attention away from the weighty political issues associated with helping a troublesome ancient enemy rebuild the wall around their city. It was simple. All she had to do was whisper in the king's ear, "ask Nehemiah how long he will be gone". Maybe.
Maybe Esther didn't say a word. Maybe her Jewish identity combined with her winsome personality were enough to give the King a positive feeling toward the Jews and want to help them, reversing the edicts of earlier Persian monarchs. Probably Esther never even realized the full extent of the impact she had. Wouldn't it be great to sit down for tea with queen Esther in Heaven and ask her to tell the whole story, now that she knows it, complete with the details women crave?
No matter how she did it, I love the idea that Esther's influence extended well beyond the events in the book of Esther, into her stepson's life, and cleared the way for the rebuilding of the wall in Jerusalem.
It is too soon to know what influence we will have. We may never know how our modeling impacts the generations that follow us and influences the choices they make. Our job is to be the simple people God calls us to be in the life he gives us to live.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Futility
–adjective
l
1. incapable of producing any result; ineffective; useless; not successful (definition from dictionary.com)
Futility was one of the evils that rushed into human lives as soon as man sinned in the Garden of Eden. Every human feels ineffective, useless or not successful sometimes. Work feels futile. Trying to restore a relationship feels futile. Parenting rebellious kids feels futile.
Sometimes I think the role of stepmother is a synonym for futile.
Step-moth-er
-noun
1. a person who is ineffective, useless, not successful
As a stepmother I care deeply about my stepkids. I want to be able to nurture them. They are fiercely loyal to their mother, though. In some ways this is good. But, many of my efforts to draw close to them are rejected. Out of loyalty to her, they have erected defensive walls between themselves and me. It is hard to give a tender hug through a thick cement wall.
So, my role is to cook/ clean/ drive/ entertain/ dispense money on demand/ and stay out of their way. They don't believe that correcting them or telling them what to do, is part of the stepmom job description.
From their limited perspective, I came to this party uninvited.
The Bible tells the story of another woman who came to a party uninvited. She was a prostitute. She took a valuable vial of perfume and poured it over Jesus' head. The rest of the guests, especially Jesus' closest associates were horrified. "What a waste!" They scolded. But Jesus silenced them. "She has done a beautiful thing." He went on to explain, "She did what she could when she could..." (Mark 14:3-9 The Message)
Referring to this passage, Joy Sawyer, in her book The Art of the Soul says, "...the real question is not what we're doing, but the art of how we're doing it. Do we do 'what we can, when we can'? In other words, are we pouring out the most costly essence of our souls on the person of Christ? If so, he will live in and through our lives. We share the joy of knowing the story of our 'wasted lives' will definitely not be wasted."
The enemy of our souls would love to convince us that the hours we spend loving Christ by pouring ourselves out are wasted. The enemy wants us to stamp "futility" in big red letters all over our efforts, give up, and walk away. But that would be a mistake. Jesus sees the ways we pour ourselves out. He thinks they are tremendously valuable.
"With all this going for us, my dear, dear friends, stand your ground. And don't hold back. Throw yourselves into the work of the Master, confident that nothing you do for him is a waste of time or effort." (I Corinthians 15:58 The Message)
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Gold and Clay
Today I want to share a little wisdom from a century past. It comes from a book I am reading. The book, Aunt Jane of Kentucky, first published in 1907, is a collection of feel good stories about people in rural Kentucky. The narrator, Aunt Jane, weaves delightful tales, full of fun and the occasional word of wisdom gleaned over a long lifetime. Today, I share one of her best tidbits.
"...part of that sermon stayed by me all my life. He preached about Nebuchadnezzar and the image he saw in his dream with the head of gold and the feet of clay. And he said that every human being was like that image; there was gold and there was clay in every one of us. Part of us was human and and part was divine. Part of us was earthly like the clay, and part heavenly like the gold. And he said that in some folks you couldn't see anything but the clay, but that the gold was there, and if you looked long enough you'd find it. And some folks, he said, looked like they was all gold, but somewhere or other there was the clay, too, and nobody was so good but what he had his secret sins and open faults...and that the thing for us to do was to look for the gold and not the clay in other folks. For the gold was the part that would never die, and the clay was jest the mortal part that we dropped when this mortal shall have put on immortality." -Eliza Calvert Hall in Aunt Jane of Kentucky
Most of us need to learn the art of finding the clay-hidden gold in difficult people in our lives. Sometimes, we also need to acknowledge that people who look like they are all gold still have clay in them too. Always, we need to remember that in the end, the clay will drop away but the gold will last.
Blessings on you today as you pan for gold,
Beth
"...part of that sermon stayed by me all my life. He preached about Nebuchadnezzar and the image he saw in his dream with the head of gold and the feet of clay. And he said that every human being was like that image; there was gold and there was clay in every one of us. Part of us was human and and part was divine. Part of us was earthly like the clay, and part heavenly like the gold. And he said that in some folks you couldn't see anything but the clay, but that the gold was there, and if you looked long enough you'd find it. And some folks, he said, looked like they was all gold, but somewhere or other there was the clay, too, and nobody was so good but what he had his secret sins and open faults...and that the thing for us to do was to look for the gold and not the clay in other folks. For the gold was the part that would never die, and the clay was jest the mortal part that we dropped when this mortal shall have put on immortality." -Eliza Calvert Hall in Aunt Jane of Kentucky
Most of us need to learn the art of finding the clay-hidden gold in difficult people in our lives. Sometimes, we also need to acknowledge that people who look like they are all gold still have clay in them too. Always, we need to remember that in the end, the clay will drop away but the gold will last.
Blessings on you today as you pan for gold,
Beth
Monday, January 24, 2011
Tales of the Restoration: The Hidden Reality
Nehemiah 2:8
The cacophony chatters, rings, confuses,
What Good comes of taking all these bruises?
Grasping Hand-holds in the hardened cliff
Slipping stones Of sadness, oh faithless heart, what if?
Reality deceiving, My senses false, but
Gaze at unseen things, God sings silent melodies
Texture of the immaterial; Is that the scent of You?
What whisper hidden, rode Upon the wind?
Touch Me!
The cacophony chatters, rings, confuses,
What Good comes of taking all these bruises?
Grasping Hand-holds in the hardened cliff
Slipping stones Of sadness, oh faithless heart, what if?
Reality deceiving, My senses false, but
Gaze at unseen things, God sings silent melodies
Texture of the immaterial; Is that the scent of You?
What whisper hidden, rode Upon the wind?
Touch Me!
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
The Crazy Quilt of Life
Did you ever think, child...how much piecin' a quilt's like livin' a life?...You see, you start out with jest so much caliker; you don't go to the store and pick it out and buy it, but the neighbors will give you a piece here and a piece there, and you'll have a piece left every time you cut out a dress, and you take jest what happens to come. And that's like predestination. But when it comes to the cuttin' out, why you're free to choose your own pattern. You can give the same kind o' pieces to two persons, and one'll make a "nine-patch" and one'll make a "wild-goose chase," and there'll be two quilts made out o' the same kind o' pieces, and jest as different as they can be. And that is jest the way with livin'. The Lord sends us the pieces, but we can cut 'em out and put 'em together pretty much to suit ourselves, and there's a heap more in the cuttin' out and the sewin' than there is in the caliker. -Eliza Calvert Hall, Aunt Jane of Kentucky
A quilter making a crazy quilt gathers scraps of fabric of various colors and textures; dark, medium and light colored fabrics in pleasing proportions. The scraps are stitched together in a way that seems random, but isn't. The pieced quilt is embroidered with fancy stitches using scraps of different threads and ribbons. In the hands of a skillful quilter, the finished piece is an astonishingly beautiful work of art.
I am so thankful for the various life-fabrics God has given me. The dark shades, added during the difficult times, are essential to the overall design. My life-quilt wouldn't be as rich without them. God gives me the pieces, but I choose how to cut and embroider each piece. I think his big hand is cupped over my small one, helping guide the needle and thread, but I feel like I am stitching it together myself.
The quilt of my life is not a nine-patch with straight lines and square corners. My life is a crazy quilt. Crazy and beautiful.
Friday, November 5, 2010
An Open Prayer on a Day of Discouragement
"'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong...I will most gladly spend and be spent for your souls. If I love you more am I to be loved less?" (2 Corinthians 12: 9-10, 15 ESV)
My husband and his wuzwife, (I like the sound of that better than ex-wife) each have responsibility for their kids half the time. Every few days the kids endure cataclysmic change. In the moment it takes to exit a vehicle and walk in the door of a house, the accepted standards of behavior, the priorities, the way people treat each other, the values, and the food all change drastically.
The kids' stress on transition days often manifests itself in rudeness, anger and defensiveness. Intellectually, I think I understand what is going on. Emotionally, I have not yet learned how to steel myself against the hurricane of turmoil and conflict that slams into my peaceful home each week. I get discouraged, deeply discouraged sometimes.
Below is the prayer I prayed on one difficult day when my discouragement collided with Paul's attitude and courage in 2 Corinthians 12.
I share it, hoping that walking with me will encourage someone else who gets the wind knocked out of them on occasion.
If there is someone reading this who also faces discouragement, opposition from within and without, this is my prayer for you too.
A disclaimer: When I talk to God, I pour out my feelings untempered and uncensored. I am pretty melodramatic. It is OK. God already knows the intensity of my emotions. He can take it. He also knows that he is not going to let me fall, and that just pouring everything out to Him makes me feel better.
My Prayer:
O God,
I feel like an outsider in my own family. My walls of my house are no barrier to the enemy that seeks to undo us. The boundaries are so porous that a cell phone call can penetrate them with flaming darts and wreak havoc. 'Hardship, persecution, and calamity' (2 Corinthians 12:9, ESV) march right through my safest place unfettered. How can I be content?
"I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me."
The power of Christ...the power of the resurrection. The power that holds all things together. Yet, even you submitted to suffering and persecution for a time.
Lord, I want to be like you. Though you suffered you never panicked. You wept, but you were not anxious. I know that if I had the perfect life, I would not cling so closely to you. These problems and my own inability to change things, create an opportunity.
I have the opportunity to "boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." Oh Jesus, for your sake, help me to be content with weaknesses (mine and my family member's), insults (from angry stepkids), hardships (undermining, and meddling from the outside), persecutions (unfair treatment), and calamities. I choose to believe that when I am weak, then I am strong.
This battle is not against any flesh and blood person. This battle is against the evil powers in this dark world (Ephesians 6:12). Evil is my enemy.
Oh, Lord, let the power of Christ rest upon me. Help me to continue to hope, to trust, to persevere. I pray that you will give me eyes to see your mighty hand moving. Help me see your fingerprints on this infuriating situation and this day.
Amen
My husband and his wuzwife, (I like the sound of that better than ex-wife) each have responsibility for their kids half the time. Every few days the kids endure cataclysmic change. In the moment it takes to exit a vehicle and walk in the door of a house, the accepted standards of behavior, the priorities, the way people treat each other, the values, and the food all change drastically.
The kids' stress on transition days often manifests itself in rudeness, anger and defensiveness. Intellectually, I think I understand what is going on. Emotionally, I have not yet learned how to steel myself against the hurricane of turmoil and conflict that slams into my peaceful home each week. I get discouraged, deeply discouraged sometimes.
Below is the prayer I prayed on one difficult day when my discouragement collided with Paul's attitude and courage in 2 Corinthians 12.
I share it, hoping that walking with me will encourage someone else who gets the wind knocked out of them on occasion.
If there is someone reading this who also faces discouragement, opposition from within and without, this is my prayer for you too.
A disclaimer: When I talk to God, I pour out my feelings untempered and uncensored. I am pretty melodramatic. It is OK. God already knows the intensity of my emotions. He can take it. He also knows that he is not going to let me fall, and that just pouring everything out to Him makes me feel better.
My Prayer:
O God,
I feel like an outsider in my own family. My walls of my house are no barrier to the enemy that seeks to undo us. The boundaries are so porous that a cell phone call can penetrate them with flaming darts and wreak havoc. 'Hardship, persecution, and calamity' (2 Corinthians 12:9, ESV) march right through my safest place unfettered. How can I be content?
"I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me."
The power of Christ...the power of the resurrection. The power that holds all things together. Yet, even you submitted to suffering and persecution for a time.
Lord, I want to be like you. Though you suffered you never panicked. You wept, but you were not anxious. I know that if I had the perfect life, I would not cling so closely to you. These problems and my own inability to change things, create an opportunity.
I have the opportunity to "boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." Oh Jesus, for your sake, help me to be content with weaknesses (mine and my family member's), insults (from angry stepkids), hardships (undermining, and meddling from the outside), persecutions (unfair treatment), and calamities. I choose to believe that when I am weak, then I am strong.
This battle is not against any flesh and blood person. This battle is against the evil powers in this dark world (Ephesians 6:12). Evil is my enemy.
Oh, Lord, let the power of Christ rest upon me. Help me to continue to hope, to trust, to persevere. I pray that you will give me eyes to see your mighty hand moving. Help me see your fingerprints on this infuriating situation and this day.
Amen
Thursday, October 28, 2010
In Her Own Jail
Some sat in darkness and the deepest gloom...for they had rebelled against the words of God... Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and he saved them from their distress. He brought them out of darkness...and broke away their chains. Psalm 107:10-14(NIV)
In the novel The Help by Kathryn Stockett there is a character who believes she is superior to the women who serve her. She is hateful, even to the point of having innocent women incarcerated. At the end of the book the wise protagonist rightly perceives that the awful "Miss Hilly" is the one in the darkest jail.
Self-constructed soul prisons are even more confining than the physical kind. There is no end to the prison sentence and no parole board.
Soul prisons are constructed from bricks of fear, of addiction, of bitterness... For years I suffered in a prison built of pride and the fear of abandonment.
I once had a friend whose husband had an affair with a woman in their neighborhood. My friend was quickly imprisoned by her own hatred for the neighbor who wronged her. At first her vengeance felt good. If she hadn't broken away from it, it would have kept her locked up for life.
Another woman I know is locked up by a ravenous need to be loved. On the surface she is a giver, but thinly masked by the veneer of sacrifice is a core of self-service.
Cannot Escape Alone
The only way to escape from a self-constructed prison is to cry to the lord. He can bring us out of the deepest gloom.
Prayer: Lord, I am in trouble again. I built a prison and now I am trapped in it. Free me Lord. Break away my chains. Amen
Work Cited: Stockett, Kathryn. The Help. New York: Amy Einhorn, 2009. Print."She in her own jail, but with a lifelong term." Kathryn Stockett, The Help
In the novel The Help by Kathryn Stockett there is a character who believes she is superior to the women who serve her. She is hateful, even to the point of having innocent women incarcerated. At the end of the book the wise protagonist rightly perceives that the awful "Miss Hilly" is the one in the darkest jail.
Self-constructed soul prisons are even more confining than the physical kind. There is no end to the prison sentence and no parole board.
Soul prisons are constructed from bricks of fear, of addiction, of bitterness... For years I suffered in a prison built of pride and the fear of abandonment.
I once had a friend whose husband had an affair with a woman in their neighborhood. My friend was quickly imprisoned by her own hatred for the neighbor who wronged her. At first her vengeance felt good. If she hadn't broken away from it, it would have kept her locked up for life.
Another woman I know is locked up by a ravenous need to be loved. On the surface she is a giver, but thinly masked by the veneer of sacrifice is a core of self-service.
Cannot Escape Alone
The only way to escape from a self-constructed prison is to cry to the lord. He can bring us out of the deepest gloom.
Prayer: Lord, I am in trouble again. I built a prison and now I am trapped in it. Free me Lord. Break away my chains. Amen
Work Cited: Stockett, Kathryn. The Help. New York: Amy Einhorn, 2009. Print."She in her own jail, but with a lifelong term." Kathryn Stockett, The Help
Monday, September 20, 2010
The View from Under the Dirt
I sat down with the apostle Paul this morning to confide in him. I was feeling a bit cranky. "Paul," I complain, "my life is tough. Nothing I do lasts. I am weary, worn down. And, I admit it, sometimes I would like a little attention. I long for a pat on the back, a plaque on my wall, something, anything I could point to on bad days and say to myself, 'See? I am a good person!'"
Paul changes the subject. I wonder if he was listening. "Do you ever garden, you know, grow things from seeds?"
"Sure, well, not very often." I admit.
"It's like this," Paul switched to his patient parent voice to explain. "There is a mystery here that is escaping you. There is much more to this than you see on the surface."
"You are like a seed, planted by a master gardener. This life is the soil you grow in. Later, looking back on it, you will be able to see what grew under the dirt, out of your little seed. If you look at it today, nothing seems to matter, but when your little seed sprouts, the beautiful thing that grows will live forever. You may not get any respect now, but someday people will marvel. You are weak now, but then you will be powerful. Your body is just a natural body, of course you have sickness and aging to deal with. Someday though, you will have a wonderful spiritual body so different from this one that you can't imagine it. The first man was made of the stuff of earth, dust. You are like him. Someday though you will be like the man of heaven instead. So, don't get discouraged. Just wait. You'll see."
As he walks away he gives me a parting word of advice. "Beloved, don't give up. Stand straight and tall and strong and refuse to give in to discouragement. Live the life the Lord has given you to live. I promise you, your hard work is not a waste of time." I nod soberly. "Yes, sir. I will remember that God is doing something good under the surface. I won't give up."
"Good girl." Paul gently pats me on the head and disappears.
See this conversation as it was originally told, in 1 Corinthians 15:42-49, 58.
Paul changes the subject. I wonder if he was listening. "Do you ever garden, you know, grow things from seeds?"
"Sure, well, not very often." I admit.
"It's like this," Paul switched to his patient parent voice to explain. "There is a mystery here that is escaping you. There is much more to this than you see on the surface."
"You are like a seed, planted by a master gardener. This life is the soil you grow in. Later, looking back on it, you will be able to see what grew under the dirt, out of your little seed. If you look at it today, nothing seems to matter, but when your little seed sprouts, the beautiful thing that grows will live forever. You may not get any respect now, but someday people will marvel. You are weak now, but then you will be powerful. Your body is just a natural body, of course you have sickness and aging to deal with. Someday though, you will have a wonderful spiritual body so different from this one that you can't imagine it. The first man was made of the stuff of earth, dust. You are like him. Someday though you will be like the man of heaven instead. So, don't get discouraged. Just wait. You'll see."
As he walks away he gives me a parting word of advice. "Beloved, don't give up. Stand straight and tall and strong and refuse to give in to discouragement. Live the life the Lord has given you to live. I promise you, your hard work is not a waste of time." I nod soberly. "Yes, sir. I will remember that God is doing something good under the surface. I won't give up."
"Good girl." Paul gently pats me on the head and disappears.
See this conversation as it was originally told, in 1 Corinthians 15:42-49, 58.
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