Charlotte's letter.

Dear Goose

We just found out this week that you have to have four teeth pulled. *sigh* Hopefully this will not continue, but for some reason you seem to attract issues of the medical sort. We have had our share of small things, as any family with 5 kids would. We have had ear infections and the flu, busted lips (Taylor takes first in that category) but with you it has always been the big stuff. It seems like you have taken in the task of breaking us into this parenting thing as any good first born would do. Goodness. So far you have been the only one with stitches, you got the bog bite to the face, you had to have your tonsils out, had to have the baby root canals (whatever those are called), the broken nose, and now these teeth that are coming in just wherever they feel like it... The one in the roof of your mouth is actually pretty impressive. Daddy is now calling you his little shark. My goose, you take it all in stride with your determined logical personality and I am so proud of you. I feel like the air has left my lungs when I think about you tuning 7 next month . Has it been that long already? Have I soaked it all in enough? There are so many moments I wish I could just freeze somehow and take them out to enjoy again whenever I need them. I love you so much. You are smart and beautiful and so strong. The Bible says that children are a blessing and it is so true you are. I have no words to tell you how much we love you.

I have wanted to write your story for a while now. You and Taylor beg me to tell your stories all the time. Usually you ask at night, right after I get you all tucked into bed and am about to leave your room. I know you are partially just stalling - not wanting to go to sleep, but I love those quite moments with my girls. I love when you ask me about when you were born, because I like to tell you how much you were wanted. I want you to know how much we prayed for you and what an amazing day it was when we got to meet you. This is for you. I'm sorry it took me almost 7 years to write it down.

I guess to tell it right I have to start at the beginning with Me and Daddy. When we first got married we moved from Oregon (where our story began) to Homer. We wanted to take a year off of school and just be married before we dove back into everything. We lived in a little apartment most of that year and Uncle Joshua and Uncle Devion used to come over all the time and I called them "my kids" because I kinda fed and mothered everyone. It was a fun crazy, busy, wonderful few months being "us" for the first time, but we knew our family was supposed to be more than us. And, your daddy and I are not the most patient people. We knew we wanted kids and it seemed kinda silly for us to wait to have them when we couldn't think up any reason to. Daddy took a job working on a charter fishing boat that summer so we could save money to go back to school and we started thinking and dreaming about you. We were overcome with curiosity about what you would be and what you would look like; a little of both of us and a whole new person at the same time... It helped a lot that daddy was looking so nice and buff and tan after a summer of crazy hard work (someday you'll understand), but it didnt take long before we found out I was pregnant. We were so excited and nervous and happy... I think its the first time I ever experienced the enormous jumble of emotions that you get as a parent. You were Gods first answer to our prayers for a family. 

We found out you were coming right as we were getting ready to go back to Portland for  school. We announced that you were on the way right before we left and the whole family was super excited. Your Grandparents and Aunts and uncles couldn't wait to meet you. But it would be a while. We left Alaska for Oregon - what a  trip through Canada! I was sick the whole time and the slight differences between American and Canadian food became HUGE to me. There was a the meatloaf- like "burger" disaster in one place, and there was that store where I got laughed at when I asked if they had bagels... But, we made it eventually and we got settled back into school. Daddy got a job as a valet and juggled that with his full-time load of classes. We were involved at church and hung out quite a bit with aunt Lainey and Uncle Jeffrey. Honestly, now that I have all of you, I cannot remember what I did all day at that point. I remember your daddy working his tail off coming home from school, changing into his uniform and running out the door again while I handed him a plate of food and sobbed that I missed him... But, mostly I remember waiting for you. I remembered being enraptured when I first started to feel you move inside of me. I still laugh at the day we were over at Aunt Lainey and Uncle Jeffrey's and I had a cup of coffee resting on my belly which you weren't to happy about. You kicked it so hard, I almost lost my mug and Aunt Lainey screamed and we all started laughing.

I remember my friend Nicole came over to my apartment almost every night and kept me company while Daddy worked. We watched almost every chick flick known to mankind and consumed massive quantities of Ben and Jerry's. I remember when Aunt Joelene and her dad came to visit us. I was huge and Randy said I was beautiful. And, we spent a night playing Settlers of Catan and talking about you. So much waiting. That part is unique to you. With the first baby, the waiting seems so long. I worked a job for a few months around the holidays, but aside from that, it was just waiting. Daddy took me on walks every day. We walked to the bipartisan cafe for coffee and we went up and down the stairs of Mount Tabor so many times it was ridiculous. When I got closer to my due date we would go to Lainey and Jeffs and go on walks where all of us would squat every few steps. It was supposed to help me go into labor, but we didn't know at that time that your mommy never goes into labor on her own on time.

Two weeks before your due date Grandma Jill came down with Aunt Melissa and Hannah to wait for you and together we walked more... and more and more. You were due on April 15th and, though everyone thought you would come early, you made us wait almost a week past that. On the 19th I started having timeable contractions and we went to the hospital full of anticipation. Nothing was happening very quickly though, so the doctor advised (of course) more walking. I bet altogether I must have walked 500 miles to bring you into the world... Maybe that should be your song... "500 miles" 

We went to the Target that was in front of the Hospital and I clearly remember that. Rows of clothes and groceries and camping supplies with red advertisements and having to stop and breathe through contractions at the end of just about every one of them. I remember your daddy pointing out a sale on sleeping bags at one point... ha! Eventually we went back to the hospital and they tried to help me sleep because we were pretty sure you would be coming within a few hours. It was a long night. It gets kinda blurry for me at about this point because labor wears you out and that night I had an allergic reaction to the drug they gave me to help me sleep. By the next day I was worn out and fully feeling the pain of my body trying to get you out. Everyone told daddy I would be mean, that I would say things out of pain that I didn't really mean, but I remember being in a world all by myself. I wasn't angry or mean I was just in my own place and my only link to the rest of the room was your daddy. I remember his eyes close to mine through every bit of it and everything else just fading away except the pain. Daddy said I didn't say a single word for 8 hours straight. Then a miracle happened. A while back my mom (Grandma Barbara) and Grandpa Rick told us that they were moving from Michigan to Oregon right around the time you were supposed to be born. They had started driving with their car all loaded up the long way across the country just a few days before I went into labor and they thought they were going to miss your birth. But, they drove into Oregon on the 20th. They came straight to the hospital and I saw Grandma walk in the door almost exactly one hour before you were born. The trailer and car were still all loaded up with their things in the hospital parking lot. I still marvel at that. That feeling you have, when you are hurt or sick and you just want your mama... that doesn't go away with age. And, I was at that point. Dilated to 10 and about to start the hard work of pushing you out and there she came walking in the door. I can't even write it without crying. God knew I needed her and there she was. You were born that night, after 36 hours of labor, with your Grandma Jill on one side and your Grandma Barbara on the other, Aunt Lainey and Daddy. 7 pounds 12 ounces and absolutely gorgeous. I will never forget how we all cried and loved you when you were born. We had no idea what it would be like because you were the first, but you took our breath away. So beautiful and wide eyed. You were calm about it all then as you are about things now. No crying, just staring with those giant beautiful blue eyes. Daddy took his shirt off and held you against his chest and fell head over heels. What a room full of love. You were worth every second of waiting and walking and labor. 

We took you home and spent the next few weeks soaking in every bit of you. Before classes were over for the semester we took you to Multnomah to show you to everyone and everyone was so excited to see you. Daddy's C.S. Lewis class had prayed for you all during my pregnancy and when they met you they decided we should do a baby dedication right then and there. As far as I know you are still the only baby that was ever dedicated in one of Dr. G's classes. It was a special moment that I will always treasure. When classes were over and you were 6 weeks old we packed up our little family and moved back to Alaska. Not long after that we found out that your little sister was coming, but I remember when it was just the three of us, though it was brief. It was so sweet - our first taste of family. We have been hooked ever since. I love you baby girl.

Love, Mama

Birth

Reading for pleasure (or reading at all) is a bit of a luxury for me these days. Obviously. But, when I do get the chance I sometimes like to float around the internet and catch up on some of my favorite bloggers. One of them is actually somewhat famous for her birth stories and I stumbled across one of hers just the other day. Apparently we had our newest babies only two days apart. She really got me thinking as I read her latest story. It is a good idea, I think, to write down the story of our children's births. I haven't ever done it before, but they are always hanging around my mind as I watch them grow. I see how they do so much for themselves now, how they learn new things everyday and I remember how it was when they were just like my new little Luke. So tiny. So dependent. So new. I remember how it was when I first fell in love with them and how each one made their way into the world in their own unique way... The girls ask me about it all the time. "Tell me mama how it was when I was born." And, I watch their big blue eyes sparkle while I tell them. They know it's special and it's theirs and they don't ever get tired of hearing it. I think I need to write them all down. I want to keep those memories while they are still so close, before time fades them and fuzzes them all together.

So, I'm thinking about a series of posts... 5 to be exact. The stories of my babies. But, I imagine it wont be easy.

Births are emotional. And, its not just the hormones. I haven't ever really written about it before and I wonder if it isn't because its just too much to think about putting into words. I confess that the end of my pregnancies aren't super complicated. I don't have babies on time without intervention, so usually there is but one emotion: crabbiness. When you're done, you're done. Amen? The feet in the rib cage. The shooting pain that accompanies every sneeze and cough. Being asked all the time why you haven't had that baby yet. The fact that it takes a three point turn to roll over in bed when your leg falls asleep and its time to switch the pressure over to the other one. Its all these magical things working together that help me get past the fear of labor to the point where I will do and endure just about anything to be done with the whole pregnant thing.

And, then it all changes.

That little baby comes into the world and I feel like my ability to feel grows to the point of swallowing me whole.  Loss, gain, love, peacefulness, joy, fear...  all these mix together till I don't feel big enough to hold it all. My skin seems a poor container for so much. The fullness of pregnancy is nothing to the uncontainable flood that hits after. I always wonder particularly at the sense of loss I have after a baby is born. That is the one I haven't ever fully understood. The rest of it makes perfect sense, the fear and the love... You thought you knew what those were. You thought you felt them as much as any human could, and then your heart expands... so much... and with it comes a new little fear you haven't felt before, that maybe you won"t be able to do this job. That you aren't capable and that baby seems so fragile and helpless. "Mother" suddenly seems the best and most terrifying word in the world. And, that, I understand. But the loss? Its not that I miss being pregnant. Its something deeper than that and a bit harder to put one's finger on. Maybe it's just the fact that this little person who was so connected to me, that we breathed together and our blood flowed together, is now a little more separate from me. I am more aware than I want to be that it is just the beginning of many more great and little lettings go. And, it puts a dull achey feeling just at the back of all the joy I feel. They are mine, but only in a manner of speaking. I can't keep them forever and that seems unfair to me somehow. I wonder if they will understand how much I love them and how much we wanted them. I know I can protect them and take care of them to an extent right now, but there is a whole future of imperfect unknowns ahead. And, there is the fact that they are their own little selves and someday they will get to choose how much they want me... Is it just me or does every mother feel like a whole life of possibilities for their baby plays out in their mind in the first few days you see their little face? It doesn't last forever, and that is good. We obviously can't live there. We get swept up in the stuff of it, as we should. Diapers and feedings, watching the involuntary squinchy faces they make, kissing cheeks, check ups at the doctor office, measuring how they grow... Till one day, much sooner than you expected, they are older and you are talking with them and they ask you to tell them how it was when they were born. And, then you stop and let yourself go back.  You feel it a little again while you tell them their story, the one that began in you... It is too much for words.

My newest one is only nine days old today. I remember how it was when my other babies were this little too. What they say, about it going too fast, is true. It does. I realize that more with this baby than I think I did with the others. I have come a long way since our first baby was born. And, maybe all this is just another bit of recovery for me. I know, as an addict, I have made a habit of trying to numb feelings. Where the normal distractions of life haven't worked, I have turned to other things, but a big part of recovery is letting yourself feel again, even the uncomfortable stuff. I have told God before that I am scared of that. Somedays it seems like standing in front of the Hoover Dam waiting for it to come down and blow me over. But, I have learned that there is something very beautiful about letting yourself feel. To be fully and completely exposed to that much and not in control of it, not distracted by other things... just breathing it in. I let myself just stand in the thick of it this time, with Luke. I just tried to feel it all - the whole wonderful jumbled mess of emotion that happens when you have a baby. And, I thought about my other babies and how I want them to know how they have affected me and changed me, how special it was they day we first met them and how much we love them. So, I will write their stories one by one and maybe it will be a treasure for them someday... to read it and learn how precious and valuable they are to us. I think it will be beneficial to me too. It is easy to forget those treasured newborn moments when you are dealing with toddler tantrums and girl drama. I could do with a little reminiscing.

On resolutions

Plus organizing lessons from a former mess

Generally speaking, I don't like New Years resolutions. I am one of those people who posseses the, not so uncommon, gift of self-reflection. You start asking me about the things I would like to change about myself and I could give you a list a mile long. I have a list of things to try, a list of things to stop, a list of things to get better at... Its all long term stuff too. And, my experience with "resolve" is that it is a short term plan. It's a sprinters sport. Resolve is that thing that gets the guy who catches the pass into the end zone. It's when one of my babies is hurt and I need to jump into action and not burst into unproductive tears. I had to do this just recently when I was by myself with the kids and Charlotte fell and broke her nose. I got her up of the floor grabbed a rag and some ice for the bleeding, called my best friend to come watch the other kids and got up to the ER. Resolve. Yep. And, it lasted only as long as it took for her to get looked at and for us to get back home. As soon as that girl was in bed I collapsed in tears. Resolve has eveything to do with short term energy and no worth whatsoever for the "pace yourself" parts of life. Experience has taught me this. Failure has taught me. Addiction has taught me. So, resolve? I will save that for the things I absolutely have to do right now. Its serves us well for the unexpected moments but wears out quickly and leaves us drained. 

Long term change, growth, that is another story. I wrote a while back about how I did not start out being the most capable person on the planet. I couldn't figure out how to clean my room let alone a whole house. I didn't understand words like "organize" and 'schedule". But, life has taught me. Every new experience and change has been an opportunity to learn how to do it all a little better. Progress not perfection and one day at a time. I remember feeling like a failure at early points in life and trying to cling to that reslove thing to change myself long term. I will now be organized!!! I will live on a schedule! May as well have required my self to know molecular physics... right now. Art came naturally to me, daydreaming, imagination and almost nothing else. It's still the way I am, but I have, very imperfectly, learned to work at the other stuff. And, it seems like it is really starting to make sense. One of my biggest goals for myself  is to continue learning and getting better at this "organized" thing. I have picked up one or two tricks here and there and am little by little adding them to my life. Sometimes I forget, sometimes I regress, but, I have made enough progress that I am firmly rooted in the belief that it is worth while to keep at it. I have examples!
(If you are a naturally neat and organized person some of my revelations will, no doubt, seem small and ridiculously obvious, but I will put them out there anyway. Try to understand)

1. When I leave one room for another and I see something that belongs in the room I am going to - I pick it up and take it right then.

2. If I empty the dishwasher when it is done (not when the sink is full of dirty dishes with no place to go) it's way less time and effort. I can load it up as we get dishes. This way I'm spending 2 minutes at the sink here and there, instead of an hour when I finally get tired of it.

3. I work better at jobs I hate when I time myself. Sounds dumb, but if I am standing in front of  a pile of clean laundry and I start the timer on my ipad, all of a sudden I have the motivation to get it done quick. Now I'm racing me. Doing this, I learned that it takes me only about 5 minutes or less to fold and entire load. From that, I have learned to have a better attitude about laundry. I have five minutes at the end of the day. No problem. It helps when it doesn't look like Mt.Everest.

4. Give me a present. Okay, so I got through school today. I kept up with the house a little at a time and thus retained a sense of visual calm. I folded a load of laundry and gave it to the kiddos to put away before bed. Then, after they went to sleep, I did one more five minute job, swiping down the bathrooms while Scott cleaned the kitchen and dinner things. Now I sit with my computer and my feet soaking in a concoction I learned how to make on pinterest. I paint my nails and watch something on netflix and I don't feel guilty doing it like I would if the house looked like a torpedo hit. 

These are a few of the things I learned one at a time by doing it all the hard way first and then discovering what was easier. Not resolve, just patience and a desire to learn. The new thing I am working on? I got a planner and I'm using it. I know you probably got one and used it and learned how to function without it by high school, but again, this is me, Mrs. Organizationally Challenged. I was inspired to do this when my friend showed me the one she got from the Erin Condron website. It's pretty dang awesome and custom made to her specs. I might be ready for that next year... maybe. But, I'm doing pretty good so far with the one I got. Maybe if it works for me I'll splurge on the nice one next year. I mainly have trouble keeping track of "To-do" and "shopping" lists. And for planning out things like dinners - which you need to do when you are doing groceries on a budget and when you are too busy to think about it every night. So, I kind of custom fitted my organizer with "Post It" notes. It's slightly tacky, but I saved myself $50. Here's what it looks like...

In the front, I rubber banded an envelope for keeping receipts I need.

Then I have the whole month spread out with events at the top and dinners at the bottom. I put in a lined sticky note for my "Month To Do" list and have been happily crossing things off the list. (Usually my "to do" lists are spread between the counter and the fridge, my purse, pockets...) 

My week pages are for more detailed day to day: what I want to do with the kiddos for school, appointments etc.

I also put a sticky in my weekly section for a grocery list. I usually do my grocery shopping on Monday when the girls are in ballet, so I get my list based on what I wrote for meals. After I get the stuff on my list, I throw out that sticky so it isn't in the middle of my schedule and I put a new one in the next weeks section. This way, when I run out of things in the kitchen during the week, I can add it to next weeks shopping list before I add my meal things to it.

So, that's it. This is my goal for 2013. I guess you could call it a sort of resolution, but for me it's more just taking some of the things I learned over the last few years and keeping them all in one place. Baby Steps. We'll see if it helps enough that I am still at it by December. 

I can’t stop

Scott asked me yesterday if I was nesting and I responded with a very defensive and hurt sounding, “No!” (Meaning,  of course, “Yes”) He just laughed at me. It’s about that time and he knows it.  We’ve been through it four times already. Eight months pregnant and I go crazy. It’s like I get a different set of eyes. My house is probably cleaner and more organized than it has been in a year and I can’t see it.  I know that on any normal day if my house looked the way it does right now, I would be super happy and feel extremely accomplished. Not today. It just looks like one giant mess and a never ending “to do” list. 

Me cleaning tonight was like the, “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie” thing - the weird pregnant version.
I told myself after the babies went to bed that I would do one or two things and then sit and relax. I believed in myself too. I really did. Yea, it didn’t happen. I did a quick clean of the kids bathroom and then put a load of laundry in and noticed that I had a dry load to fold. Did that quickly and thought I was just about done. But, as I was taking clean towels down to the kitchen, I remembered I wanted to vacuum the furniture. Just one more thing... I went back upstairs and grabbed the vacuum, noticing on the way down that the picture frames needed dusting (made mental note). Picked up the toys downstairs, took apart and vacuumed the chairs, couches and the rug. Fabreezed it all with the antimicrobal Fabreeze - just to get it extra clean. Noticed the floor needed sweeping. Swept. Noticed the floor needed mopping. Mopped. Noticed the cupboards needed wiping down. Wiped the cupboards down. Happened to see that the base trim needed scrubbing. Was horrified to discover I cant reach the base trim and breathe at the same time. Felt like sweeping again. Swept. Put the last dish or two in the dishwasher, wiped down the counters, noticed that the stove needed cleaning. Removed burner covers, cleaned stove. Noticed dusty appliances, wiped them all down. Noticed the fridge was looking a bit dirty, wiped it down... resisted the urge to open it and start on the shelves...

At this point, Scott, who had left for a bit to load a truck for a Saturday job, came home. The second he walked in the door, He said “Wow” and gave me that, “You are nesting and you know it” look. 

Me,“I can’t stop.”

Him, “Yea, I knew it when I asked you yesterday...even though you said you weren’t” 

It just looks so filthy to me. I pretty much know that I won’t be satisfied with it unless we move everything out, sanitize it all and move it all back in, cleaned, organized and clutter free... which isn’t going to happen. Its a good thing we are going up the road for the day tomorrow or I would be scrubbing walls and starting on the touch up paint. I’ll get to it eventually. I have gotten at least that far with every pregnancy. What can you do? I’m a crazy person. I don’t do the weird food in the middle of the night thing. I don’t get mean with my husband or do many of the other stereotypical pregnant things... But I seem to make up for it all in NESTING. At least it’s only a few more weeks.
I finally did get to bed. I grabbed the dirty towels from my escapades downstairs and brought them up to the laundry (stopping only to dust the picture frames I mentioned before) and then collapsed on a heating pad with my computer to write about my insanity. *sigh* There just aren’t enough clorox wipes, dust rags, magic erasers, or vacuum hose extensions in the world to satisfy me today. 

On a lighter note...

Wow. So this is 2013. This is the year I will turn 32 and have my 5th baby. It’s amazing how NOT older I feel... 

Anyway, I had something I wanted to share. A little less typical for me. I love to write about philosophy, parenting, the Bible, politics, etc. This one is a little less ...mmmm... that. I’ll just come right on out with it. Skin care. Yep. First blog of 2013 and I am diving into an issue that is only skin deep. Oh well, what can you do? I’m a girl. I think about these things.

So, Once Upon a Time, I had really good skin... as do most babies. But, then I hit puberty and thus started the awkward battle with hair and skin and nails. Goodness, I was a mess. I was the kid that got the short boyish haircut that made the waitress at the restaurant ask, “And, what would you like young man?” Yes. It's a fabulous thing for a kid struggling with low self-image to hear. I also bit my nails disgustingly low and, most of all, I struggled with acne. Eventually I learned to get better haircuts and quit biting my nails, but the skin issue - that war waged on. 

I tried everything. SeaBreeze. Remember that? The whole regimen of cleanse, astringe (yes I made a noun into a verb), moisturize. I tried the oxy pads, the zit cremes, I even went to a dermatologist at one point. They assured me I had legitimate acne issues and gave me the prescription strength version of all the above mentioned things. I steamed, exfoliated, cleansed and I also faithfully scoured 17 Magazine for the secret that would help me look like the pretty girls on the cover who probably never saw a zit in their life. I eventually tried Proactive and had a somewhat scary allergic reaction to it - it triggered my asthma. I remember random days of clearish skin here and there when I felt like maybe I was on my way to the other side of all this, and then it all came back. I’m guessing hormones and teen stress contributed, however, I was never able to find that one miracle acne product that actually worked. 

But then, there was this day...

I think I was 18 or 19. I was reading a magazine editorial and the lady writing it said she rubbed Vaseline all over her face every night before bed. I remember wincing at the idea and closely reexamining her picture. How in the world could this be that woman with the perfect skin? It was so counterintuitive. It threw out the science presented to me in every commercial and ad I had ever seen for problem skin!! She said something about skin needing oil (the audacity of such thought!), and that harshly stripping it makes it react with zits and blotches etc. A few days later I remembered all this as I was doing my routine: scrub face with chemically soap, rub alcohol-like substance everywhere to zap any remaining oil, apply water-like “moisturizer”, follow with spot creme, then Epiphany! This wasn’t working. It never had! Though, I was so faithful to it all! I felt robbed and cheated and I made a very rash decision (no pun intended). I washed it all off, pulled out a jar of Vaseline, rubbed it in and went to bed. To my surprise I was not one giant zit when I woke up. So, I continued to do this (whenever I had the guts) and astonishingly my skin slowly started to clear up. Eventually I replaced the Vaseline with other more, natural oils. Coconut and vitamin e became my favorites. And, I even had the gumption one day to toss the acne treatments and cleansers in the trash where they belong. I have some scars from years of mistreatment (that are slowly fading away) and every now and then I get a little break out, but my skin has never been as bad as it used to be since I made the change. Oil is good and natural is better. Who knew?

I guess at this point I should insert a picture of me with no make up. I normally don’t do this because people see the paleness and usually ask if I am feeling okay. Yes, I’m fine. I just cant get a tan...no... I’m not a vampire either. I would post a before shot too, but I wouldn't even know what box to start looking in. 

          I know some of you may have heard a story similar to mine, but I wanted to put it out there anyway. I am not a scientist or a doctor. I just have my own experience and some information I have gathered through a bit of research. There are many people out there learning how to improve their skin with oil, and not just coconut. (Here’s another similar story.) EVOO is great for skin and hair, castor oil, grape seed oil... Simply put, our skin is an organ. You can’t dehydrate an organ and expect it to function properly. I spent several years battling my skin and only made it worse, then one day I decided to be nice to it and it responded. Seems logical. As a side benefit, I have also saved quite a bit of money on not buying skin "care"  products.  Every now and then I try new moisturizers (mostly my free Sephora samples) but, I have never found anything that works as well for me as coconut oil so I always go back to that. 

            It’s my personal favorite because it is super light, it melts in your hands and it absorbs quickly. It also has some pretty powerful anti-bacterial qualities, and smells fabulous. Did you know you can even clean your skin with it? Seriously, the stuff is amazing. I hardly ever wash my face with soap anymore, and if I want to exfoliate I find other things in my kitchen...coconut oil or honey mixed with cinnamon or sugar or salt...  straight up baking soda... All that stuff is so much better for our skin and it costs virtually nothing.

           The point? I guess I just want to throw this out there as a possibility for someone who may be where I was. If the skin care section at the store has let you down... you don’t have to keep going back... shhhh. :)

           Try something new and see what happens. I spent way too much time stressing about this early on in life. I wish I would have figured it out a bit sooner so I could have maybe focused on more important things. Maybe try being nice to your skin this year. 

       My head is ringing today. I can’t imagine what it is like for the people in Connecticut right now. The parents... I hear my own babies playing and laughing, fighting with each other over the Buzz Lightyear toy... They go on, just having a normal day, blissfully unaware that 20 kids their own age were recently murdered. Our tree is up and presents have started collecting underneath it and I can hardly imagine being one of those parents who will have to deal with unopened gifts. Its just too much. I can’t imagine it and I don’t want to. But, I feel like I need to do something. I need to hug my babies. I need to tell them I love them. I need to reevaluate priorities. And, I need to resolve some things.

In just this last year I have heard so many horrific things. I have heard a protester screaming about the “parasitic” nature of humanity infecting the earth. I have heard well known atheist scholars talk about how we are all the product of a cataclysmic accident and that to pretend there is purpose in life is to delude oneself. I have heard so many say that there is no such thing as “truth”; that morality is subjective. I read just recently in Margaret Sanger’s book, Woman and the New Race, how the most civil of the world’s uncivilized societies are the ones that practice infanticide... Interesting that these ideas are silenced on this awful day, how they slink to the background as every sane human being is horrified and stunned. 

We teach our kids that life has no purpose, they are an ugly infestation on a beautiful planet, that there is no real thing as good and evil, there is no God and therefore no ultimate consequence for action. Life is not sacred and valuable... We tell them these things and then stand back in terrified disbelief when someone acts out the full extent of these beliefs.  Why? Because, we know it is so very very wrong. We know it in a place that is too deep to disregard - in a part of ourselves we cannot turn off. Every day in the animal world predators pick off the sick and young and helpless and we think nothing of it. But, when a group of 20 kindergardeners is gunned down, everything inside of us twists and groans in disgust and horror. Because, we know, at least for this one moment, that LIFE is VALUABLE and PRECIOUS. We feel deeply, all of a sudden, that we were created with purpose and there is, very definitely,  “right” and “wrong”.  Our gut should not tell us these things if they weren’t true. As CS Lewis said, “Consequently atheism turns out to be too simple. If the whole universe has no meaning, we should never have found out that it has no meaning: just as, if there were no light in the universe and therefore no creatures with eyes, we should never know it was dark.” If there was really no point and no such thing as morality, how differently would we all be responding to this day? 

Go ahead and call me deluded, but this is my resolve today: I will teach my kids that they are valuable and they do have a purpose. I will teach them that humanity is NOT just a parasite that needs to be eradicated. I will tell them that life is precious and should be protected. It is from God and it “IS”. Life does not “become” because someone chooses to allow it. There will always be people who think that they get to define what life is and what it is not. They falsely elevate themselves when they presume they have the authority to choose which life is worth preserving and protecting and which they can snuff out because they don’t personally value it. We have their examples all around us. But, they are wrong. I will tell my kids that these people are wrong. God created life. He gives it meaning. I will tell them that there is truth, there is right and wrong... And, they will not be confused when their gut involuntarily reacts to pure evil as ours did today. They will know that their sense of justice is rooted in reality. Hopefully they will teach their kids the same. 

Pulling Weeds

I am at a loss with this one. I keep writing and rewriting in an attempt to sort through the heaping pile of information I have been taking in recently. Stories I have heard and conversations I have had, books I am currently reading, some articles, and observations... Many of these things at first seemed completely unrelated, but I am starting to see a connection that I am hoping is something both true and worth pointing out. I definitely have had my own emotional reactions to all of theses things, but I’m not too interested in talking here about my feelings on any of them. I would rather explore a bit what is under it all. I mean, otherwise I am just writing about my personal reaction to this persons reaction to such and such a thing. I have already done a lot of that, in conversations with my husband and several other people who were probably just innocently asking me, what they thought to be, a simple question like, “Whatcha readin?” Yea, I should have probably just given them the title and moved on. Sorry Everyone. 

The hard thing for me now is knowing where to start. Do I tell you about the conversation I had with a friend who is trying keep her head above water in a colliding sea of differing Christian theologies? How she grew up one way and then was thrown into another and is now on her own and seeing the water is even deeper and more vast than she thought? Do I tell you about the books and articles I am reading? There is that one book which is unpacking the viewpoint of victimology. There is the book by the famous pastor who has discovered the only real and genuine way to be a true Christ follower is in this one specific place, and the other author who has found the same thing, but in a different place. : / ?? There is that one lady who is a bit of a conspiracy theorist who gave me the books about how this pastor used to study under this one teacher who was friends with this other guy who sometimes has books for sale in New Age book stores. Or, there are always the stats; the stats (specifically about the American Church) that we use to motivate our Christian walk. The ones about how many people really truly believe this, or live that, or stick it out. I feel like I want to write a bit about each of these things, and maybe I will eventually, but I think I want to start somewhere else. I want to start where this all began to make sense to me, where all these vastly different things seemed to sink into a common mold. 

Matthew 13:24  Jesus told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field. But while everyone was sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away. When the wheat sprouted and formed heads, then the weeds also appeared.The owner’s servants came to him and said, ‘Sir, didn’t you sow good seed in your field? Where then did the weeds come from?’“‘An enemy did this,’ he replied.“The servants asked him, ‘Do you want us to go and pull them up?’ “‘No,’ he answered, ‘because while you are pulling the weeds, you may uproot the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest. At that time I will tell the harvesters: First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles to be burned; then gather the wheat and bring it into my barn.’”

The kingdom of heaven is like this. And, we can tell. We look out on this field called the Church and we know that not everyone is genuine. We know that some people are “playing a game”. We know that some are hypocrites, some are materialistic, some have little strength to stand, some have an inability to let go of this particular thing to grab ahold of God. Some have tempers, some have addictions, some are self centered and arrogant. We can see it. After-all we are human too. So, we run back to the Master and ask if we can pull the weeds and He says, “No.” Why? Because we, with our imperfect eyes might accidently pull up some genuine wheat. Pretty simple. When God told Samuel to anoint David (the smallest son of Jessie) as the future King of Israel, he read the bewilderment in his prophet and said, “The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” (1Sam 16:7)

All of these things started coming together for me when I realized this week that I think we really struggle as Christians with the desire to pull weeds. We are bothered that God did not give us the clear vision to always tell the genuine from the fake. In fact, He has also told us in many places that we can even be duped by those who look very much like the real deal, but aren’t at all. Remember Matt 7:22 where people stood to tell God all they had done for Him, and He says He doesn’t know them? Or what about 1 Cor 13:1-3? It says there that people can be capable of utterly amazing things, things I would think impossible without a genuine heart. It talks about people giving away everything they have for the poor, or having incredible wisdom, or speaking the language of angels... but they can do it all without love and it is worthless. Wow. The fact is that we are not very capable of judging the thoughts and hearts and attitudes of the people around us. Clearly, if it were up to us we would throw away the good and keep quite a bit of the bad. But, we struggle to give it up. Maybe because it is a little too uncomfortable for us. Maybe it makes us squirm a bit in our seat when we have to think that a genuine believer might just be in that Church we have cast off as too backward or legalistic, or even that God is using that whole Church in some mysterious way. Maybe we cant imagine how the Americans with the big house and the multi-million dollar company could possibly be hard-core lovers of Jesus. Maybe, we don’t see how that homeless man on the corner has anything worthwhile to give to the kingdom, or how that small group standing outside smoking before church starts has any evidence of “fruit” in their life...

The thing I see in scripture is that Jesus is the only man who has ever walked this earth with clear eyes. He addressed each person at their specific need and, where people were willing, they were changed. Sometimes it was obvious to outsiders and sometimes, not so much. Zacheus, for example, was a man of some standing and reputation. When he became an honest man and started paying people back what he had cheated them, it must have been staggering to his community. Everyone who came across him later would surely have marveled at the “honest” tax collector. But, Jesus also approached the man with the legion of demons, and after He helped him, it says he was just...dressed... and no longer insane. For him the “big” change was being normal. Not much visible fruit to see a man wearing clothes. We wouldn’t even notice that. But, for him it was immeasurably huge. I’m sure it was a testimony to those who knew him, but what did he look like to everyone else? Just Mr. Normal, I guess. If we don’t have the ability to see the heart of a person before Christ, how can we hope to accurately judge what transformation looks like for them after? And, this says nothing of the process of sanctification, maturing, growth... We often judge where people are at without knowing where they come from, when for some people just being dressed and sane is a mountain-sized victory. Obviously, there are Biblical parameters but, generally speaking, we tend to try to measure people by the details we see.  

Maybe it has something to do with the way we encounter Him ourselves. God reaches out to me in powerful and blatant, vivid ways sometimes and I walk away wanting to share that experience with someone else.  I want to meet someone who was blown over and carried away by the same conviction or scripture. Sometimes, He shows me a place in the world where there is a need because He has been working on and designing me to step into it. But, what I am tempted to do when I see it is to scoff, “No one else is here?! Does no one really care?!” And, that leads me to a poor assessment of the Church as a whole. The deficit God let me see becomes a way to start pulling weeds. I have done it before. In the various ministries I have been involved in I have often stopped to shake my head at the “apathy” around me for this particular mission. I have often seen a soap box from which to judge the rest of His body, when I think maybe He just wanted me to fill a need He had crafted me specifically for. Am I the only one?

I am wondering if maybe this is why I have read so many different things and had so many conversations telling me that the true test of my faith is not seen in my individual obedience to Christ or my willingness to go where He has asked me , but rather my heart and calling toward “this one” specific area where God is concerned. Maybe that is why we have little theological add ons to the Gospel. Yes, it’s by faith in what Christ did for you to reconnect you to God, that you are saved. But, the real way it is evidenced can’t just be as simple as being say, clothed and sane. The true evidence is when people do this, talk like this, pray this way, move over here, give up this, not look like that... Wow. All of a sudden we have this fabulous little way of seeing perfectly what God said we couldn’t. Its dangerous to go there. 

We just want to pull weeds so badly, but God says we don’t know the harvest well enough. There will be surprises. There will be people who knew Him that we didn’t see, and some we were convinced of who didn’t. There will be some who had the foundation, but everything they built on it was worthless when we thought it maybe looked so valuable... I think maybe we should fire ourselves as weed pullers and focus on growing instead. Here we are trying to sift and narrow down the kingdom and He asked us to multiply it!  We can trust Him with the field. He is the one who makes things grow. Who knows, maybe if we obey Him wherever and whatever he calls us to, the people in the body who need to see Him in the same way will catch the vision simply by the way He uses us to light up that place. 

I am not a “self-made woman"

        Nope. I realized this today while I was putting the potatoes in the oven for dinner. What did you have for dinner? I recommend roasted potatoes with a side of contemplation. 

 Sometimes people ask me about having four kids - four very little kids. How do I do it? How do I survive? The thing is, I have learned how to do it (rather imperfectly) along the way. It’s not that I possess some sort of quality that had “mom of many” written all over it. Goodness. There was I time, I am sorry to say, I thought “stay at home mom” was a job for those with no ambition. There was a time when I was convinced I would get to just live my own life without even so much as a husband to worry about. And, then it all changed. Scott came along, and I knew he was supposed to be a part of the future I had pictured alone. And, then the kiddos... We both decided that if we were going to do the kid thing we wanted to give them a decent sized family. We definitely didn’t plan on having them this close together, though. Eventually, when we realized we had no control over spacing, we just threw our hands in the air and ran with it. And, I learned along the way how to do it. If you think I must have had it together before, just talk to my mom. I was the space cadet kid. Seriously, I was the one who always forgot to do my homework. I didn’t like wasting my time with things like bathing or cleaning my room. Organization was a foreign concept. I was a person of deep emotion and creativity with ZERO bend for sorting out the details of life. Easily distracted, messy, yep all of that. Not exactly what you would call “mom material.” 

An art teacher once said that not taking an art class because you “aren’t a very good draw-er” is like not taking French class because you aren’t already fluent. That is exactly how I have come to think about parenting. Most of the people who are concerned enough to worry about whether they are “ready” or whether they are doing it right, are probably as good to go as you can get. Parenting is education emersion. I am not the mom I was with just one or two kids. I am not the person I was when it was just me and Scott. They have taught me. God has taught me. I have learned along the way how to keep immunization cards in one spot. I have learned how to keep the house clean, because when you have four little hurricanes, you just need some visual calm now and then, Amen? I have figured out how to think about dinner in the afternoon (most days) so that I am not trying to figure out what to feed people when 6:00 rolls around. Some times I even think ahead enough to make a menu for the week and to *gasp* write a grocery list based on that. Thinking about myself doing any of these is like having an out of body experience. It’s like I am watching this version of me from a distance wondering what in the world happened. Where did that come from? This was me with the potatoes tonight. I looked around my home at a moment when the kids happened to be relatively calm and engaged in something, the floor was swept and mopped, the dishes were mostly done, the counter was clean, bread was rising in my kitchenaid, dinner was bubbling away in the crock pot and I was in the middle of saying to myself, “Okay, dinner will be done in exactly 20 minutes when these get out of the oven.” And, then I was like, “Whoa...who is this?! Where did Martha Stewart come from?" There are just certain things you learn by doing. Necessity is the mother of invention...and organization.. and juggling skills... and who knows what else. 

      With God’s help and some surrendering to the plans He had for me, I have learned things I never would have thought myself capable of - either of doing or loving. And, now I am wondering what I would have done if I had stubbornly continued to try and “make myself”. I guess I know.  I have done my share of wandering through the fog, and fallen into many a pit along the way. Maybe I would have found some sort of level ground eventually. I probably would have stuck with what I knew, though, focused on what I was already good at, let the fear of failure keep me from trying anything outside my box, and never learned that I could be taught to do things far beyond the scope of my imagination. 

Doing this job, this thing I once thought to be so small and insignificant, has been the biggest learning experience of my life. Right now I know this; (though, I might need a reminder tomorrow) surrender is worth it. Teachability is good. Being wiling to say, “I don’t have it all figured out right now” is invaluable, because it leaves you open. Unfortunately, this is not me every moment of every day. I wish it was. I wish I took every unexpected bend in the road with grace and dignity. I wish I didn’t complain so easily when the house was all but flipped upside down and when I can’t find that piece of paper I NEED RIGHT NOW. But, I have more learning to do. I just love that every now and then God gives me a little present in the form of a snapshot - a frozen moment of perspective where I can hold up the me I have become to the me that I used to be and just let my jaw fall to the ground in disbelief. It’s like He is reminding me, even when I feel like I am going backwards or trudging through the muck up to my knees, I am still making progress. It’s worth it to keep at it and to keep hold of His hand. 

The Gospel and Parenting

Scott and I were talking the other day. Kids, parenting, God... Just mulling over some issues and trying to figure out the right way to deal with them. Parenting is just hard and the issues we face are not always predictable. 

I think if you asked any parent if they expected their kids the be perfect, they would obviously say, “no.” Somehow, though, I still always find myself a little caught off guard by their issues. They have a problem, or exhibit some undesirable behavior and my mind starts up the train...

Am I doing something wrong?

Where is this coming from? 

Where did they learn that?

What were they thinking?

How do I stop this?

Didn’t they learn the last time?

Am I doing the discipline thing wrong?

I had a bit of a revelation talking to Scott about all this a couple days ago. Obviously, I don’t expect our kids to be perfect, but I often find myself operating like they started that way. On a practical level I view them as little clean slates that pick up things from their environment. After all, they develop our mannerisms and repeat what they hear others say, they react to frustration and fear and stress the way I do... They are very effective little mirrors of the world around them and it is easy to think it is just that simple. If that is all there is too it, then it is reasonable to think, if I could just control their environment well enough, they would never have a problem. Expose them to church, guard them from bad influences, never lose my cool in front of them. *Voila!* Perfect kid!

This how many of us operate. And, in my limited experience, it makes the job harder. I am always a failure when I think this way, because every little issue, every bad habit, every misspoken word is a direct result of what I have let in the door. (Of course, to a certain extent I get to blame other people too.)

If we really stop and think about it, this is an overly simplified and inadequate way of looking at anyone. Outside influence is only part of the picture. If we really believe the Bible, we understand that people come with issues too. Ever notice that you don’t have to teach a newborn how to stick the bottom lip out when they’re sad? Or, for that matter, how to cry? A toddler instinctively knows how to throw a fit or how to grab for the toy they want. When they get older, no one has to teach them how to fight with a sibling or how to lie when they are about to get in trouble. My kids have never seen Scott or I get in a physical fight with anyone, but they definitely know how to do it anyway. Blame comes naturally. Selfishness is intuitive. These and more a built into the human condition. The Bible calls it the “sin nature”. It is inherited. It is how we are all predisposed to act until something intervenes. Scott reminded me of this when we were talking. It’s not that I am a failure when my kids act up or even that there is something horribly out of the ordinary going on. It’s that the most natural part of who they are is coming out. And, just as a side note, the flawed nature they inherit is all of humanity’s, but also specifically mine and Scott’s. 

This changes everything. Thinking about myself, there are things I have been able to learn. Life has taught me, a naturally somewhat unorganized person, to be organized. I have learned how to keep track of my house and our finances, doctors appointment and dance classes... After a long, long struggle I was able to quit the nasty habit I had of biting my nails. My parents taught me through discipline, about appropriate and inappropriate ways to address other people, etc. Anyone can learn to an extent how to function reasonably in society and the world. There are however, certain things that I have never been able to overcome on my own. For some reason, it’s the deeper stuff, like how to not be overwhelmed with fear, how to trust, how to not be self focused, how to cope with pain without using an addiction as a numbing agent. My deepest flaws and weaknesses are where I was at a total loss. It is in those places where resolve, and even discipline, does absolutely nothing. Don’t believe me? Think about the last time you heard a story where someone couldn’t “straighten up” or “figure it out”, even when they were literally in the gutter, or when there were kids to think of. There are places we can go where there is no Earthly help, internal or external. And, remarkably, it is in those places where we are in the best position to meet God.  

Most of us who attempt to raise our children with an awareness of God and a sense of truth instinctively fall back on behavior modification, myself included. We teach morality to our kids by exposing them to a Biblical worldview. But, without an encounter with the Creator, it is just that. A worldview. A standard for living. And, look at what it requires: holiness, wisdom, self control... If we think it’s really doable, we need only look things like the definition of love in 1 Corinthians 13. It is all impossible for anyone! If exposure to the worldview is all they ever get, we are setting them up to be fakes and failures. 

What would it look like, though, if I wasn’t so caught of guard by my kids acting out of their natural sinful nature? What if I remembered where it was that I first met God - really met Him? How I was desperate and broken and out of strength. Scott and I were talking over all of these things and he said something that blew me away. It is not our job as parents to just control behavior. Yes, teach them a standard, expose them to truth, protect them from unnecessary bad influences... But, more than all of that, our kids need to see, through our own transparency, what dependence on God looks like. To say to them, “Daddy, has a hard time with that too, and I have to ask God for help because I can’t fix me by myself.” I have watched him have this conversation with our daughter before. At 6&1/2 she is already acutely aware of her own inability. There have been so many times when we have asked her why she hit her sister or didn’t listen to us and she just says, “I don’t know. I just cant stop myself.” How true. Now to stop myself from responding with, “Yes, you can.” There are certain things that discipline can teach people. Moments like that, however, teach us where the limit of our strength is. 

Isn’t that the whole point of the Gospel anyway? Paul says in 2 Corinthians 12:9, “But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” I want my kids to know God, not just how they measure up to an impossible standard. The difficulty for me, is in accepting that He will meet them in their weakness, because...well... I just don’t want them to have any. 

Any Christian who has been in the church long enough can point out what is supposed to be the the difference between our belief and what every other religion out there teaches. Our Bible tells us,“Indeed, there is no one on earth who is righteous, no one who does what is right and never sins. “There is not one righteous. Not one.” (Ecc 7:20) Our weakness and insufficiency is detailed everywhere in scripture. In Romans 3:20-22 we learn, “Therefore no one will be declared righteous in God’s sight by the works of the law; rather, through the law we become conscious of our sin. But now apart from the law the righteousness of God has been made known, to which the Law and the Prophets testify.  This righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe.” This is it! This is what sets Christ apart. While all the other religions of the world teach us to climb the impossible road to God ourselves, the Bible tell us Christ did it for us! 

And, as for living every day, Jesus said, “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.” (John 15:5) 

Sorry about all the bold print, but shouldn’t this message, though we struggle to embrace it ourselves, be part of how we raise our kids? I asked Scott what he thought we should do and his answer was, in so many words, to be real with them. Be imperfect in front of them (or at least admit to it because we know they see it anyway). Be visibly dependent on God in front of them, and don’t be above apologizing to them. I think he’s right. How can we teach them the gospel of grace and unmerited favor, if we treat them like it is well within their ability to pull themselves together? We have to live the Gospel. Not just preach it. 

I don’t think this is easy. I admit my kids are still small and their problems are relatively small too. We haven’t done this before and we only know what we have walked through in our own lives. Even as I write this I am a bit overwhelmed by what a big responsibility it is...how complicated it gets. I’m feeling like I’m going to have to tattoo this one all over me to remember it the next time I am reacting to something they do. But, there is hope I think. For one, I can be just as dependent on God for this as for everything else. He knows how utterly incapable I am, anyway. And for another, if the closest inherited issues they have are mine and Scott’s, then we are very uniquely equipped to show them how God broke through those things in our own lives. I’m sure they will face other things too, but maybe if we are faithful to teach them to trust and depend with the small things now, they won’t forget it later.  

Trust your heart...

           I can’t even count how many times I have heard this. It is one of our culture’s favorite slogans. And, it seeps into me as well. As a Christian, I should dismiss it as utter garbage. Really, as a basis for decision making, our hearts are horrible guides. I heard a Dee Brestin on the radio this week and she said something I have not stopped thinking about since. She said our hearts are “idol making factories”. It is not that we come to Christ and are immediately perfected. There is a process called sanctification where we learn how to deliver our flesh to the cross. It is a struggle. One that takes the power of God in us to overcome. While on this earth we have to keep our eyes fixed or they will wander. It is so easy for us to get distracted. Honestly, I feel like I forget about the battle sometimes. It is easy to think I make right decisions just because... well... I’m a Christian. It sounds incredibly self-righteous to word it that plainly, but I think it’s true. I say a quick prayer in the direction of what my heart wants and then go ahead and make the decision I wanted to. No searching out the will of God or returning to the Word or listening to sound council... What I have really done is followed my heart instead of my Lord. Right?  And, then we wonder where He is and why it all ended so wrong. Here is why...

Jeremiah 17:9
The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?

Genesis 4:7

...sin is crouching at your door; it desires to have you, but you must rule over it.

Psalm 40:12

For troubles without number surround me; my sins have overtaken me, and I cannot see. They are more than the hairs of my head, and my heart fails within me.

Psalm 19:12

But who can discern their own errors? Forgive my hidden faults.

1Peter 5:8
Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.

Our hearts are so overwhelming at times. They are strong inside of us. Our emotions threaten to overtake us at times with any number of things...depression, grief, desire, fear... And, outside of us there are threats as well. There is someone who lies in wait for us to “listen to our heart”. What easy targets we are when we turn our eyes away from Truth and look at what we feel or want instead. And, he rejoices to trip up anyone he can. So, the solution? Something else Dee Brestin said that I find incredibly Biblical. “Stop LISTENING to your Soul and SPEAK truth to it instead!” 

Psalm 119:11
I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you.

Proverbs 3:5
Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.

How much heartache could we avoid in the long run if we learned how to do this? I’m not saying I think it’s easy. Our hearts are “desperate” for a reason. Augustine put it this way, “Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in thee...” And, the Bible says, “He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart...” (Ecc 3:11) Wonder why we feel things so deeply? Because, there is a hole in every human heart that is the very breadth of eternity! It was meant to be filled by God Himself! So, is the depth of our emptiness and depravity when He is not in it!  And, so is the depth of our wandering feelings when we forget to look at Him. I wonder if my decisions would be so hard to make if I measured them by the truth while standing filled with the fullness of God... But, again, everything He gives us to do requires utter dependence on Him. 

Solomon

Believe it or not, I have been mulling over this subject for quite some time. I guess its a bit of a random thing for a busy mom of 4 to be contemplating, but that is how my brain works. The reason I am writing about it now is that I read an article recently on (sort of) the same subject and it didn’t sit right with me. (Here it is incase you want to check it out. Solomon article)

I just feel like Mr. Brueggmann got Solomon wrong. He was talking about King Solomon in the Bible.  And, the seeming contradiction between Solomon’s opulent lifestyle and his supposed wisdom. We know from the Bible that Solomon lived his days surrounded by every lavish and luxuriant pleasure a good amount of money and monarchy could buy. Brueggmann, using Solomon’s story to talk about current political issues, says the  “wisdom” of Solomon is better translated as “ listening heart”. Somehow this helps him make more sense of Solomon's story. I’m not entirely sure about the validity of that particular interpretation. But, I should say that my ideas about the “wisdom” of Solomon were made by taking that word at face value. Maybe I am about to get him wrong too. Who knows. He is a conundrum for sure. But, I thought I would put my theory out there anyway. It is mostly based on the book of Ecclesiastes (one of my favorites) which is supposed to have been written by the great king himself. I think it's a book that cannot be overlooked by anyone hoping to understand Solomon. The background story, for those who don’t know it, is found in 1 Kings 3:5-15. This is where God appears to Solomon and tells him to ask for whatever he wants. Solomon asks God for wisdom and God is so pleased that He gives it to him - along with wealth and a great many other things. 1Kings 4:29 says, “God gave Solomon wisdom and very great insight, and a breadth of understanding as measureless as the sand on the seashore.” The problem is, Solomon eventually accumulates so much stuff, servants, wives, concubines, children, animals etc. that he comes across as more of a spoiled brat than a man of great wisdom. 

How does it all mesh? My theory is that Solomon was given two kinds of wisdom. One was given to him more immediately and it was what I will call a more “practical” wisdom. He made good judgement calls in disputes between people, he had the intelligence to multiply his wealth and the wealth of his kingdom, administrative and managerial skills... All of this gave him the ability to acquire anything and everything. There was no experience he could not have and nothing he could not buy. 

The second kind of wisdom is the kind I think he had to spend a life time learning. It was the wisdom that taught him to say, “Everything is meaningless...utterly meaningless.” (Ecc 1:2) What better way to learn that there is nothing of value on this Earth, and no worthwhile wisdom apart from God, than to have everything handed to you to investigate? In Ecclesiastes, Solomon goes through the list of all the things he has pursued and gained and looked into: pleasure, beautiful homes filled with all the best things, people, silver, gold, sex, hard work... And, in the end, he is full of sorrow. He says, 

I, the teacher, was king of Isreal, and I lived in Jerusalem. I devoted myself to search for understanding and to explore by wisdom everything being done in the world... So I worked hard to distinguish wisdom from foolishness But, now I realize that even this was like chasing the wind. For the greater my wisdom, the greater my grief. To increase knowledge only increases sorrow. (Ecc 1:12-13 &17-18)

Maybe it is that all of these things are of no lasting worth. They seem to satisfy us for a while, but in the end they are fleeting and absolutely perishable. The human appetite is insatiable. We all desperately want to be a part of something enduring and meaningful, yet we are set down on an ever changing and fragile planet where all our striving seems utterly wasted.

In 1990 a picture was taken by the Voyager 1 Space Craft as it headed out of our solar system. It’s a picture of Earth from 6 billion kilometers away. It is stunning and shocking and truthful in it’s depiction of our home - a tiny insignificant looking dot in the midst of a vast empty darkness. 

Carl Sagan saw this picture and wrote the following:

Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

Solomon says in chapter 4, verse 11, “He (God) has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” “Eternity in the heart” is what I have come to believe is responsible for all the passion and work and grasping we do here. It is also, evidence of the fact that we were made for something bigger and more than what we can find here. Solomon didn’t need a picture of our planet from billions of miles away. He asked for wisdom and God gave it. He saw the earth as the “pale blue dot” long before Carl Sagan saw that picture. In, the end, his conclusion is, “Remember your creator.” God, who is eternal and creator is the only lasting thing in which we can find more than fleeting significance and satisfaction. I do not believe the life of Solomon was contrary to  the claims of his wisdom. Rather, his experience lends credibility to his conclusions on life. Would we take it from someone who never “had it all” that there is no satisfaction in Earthly fame or power or money? I don’t think so.