Have You Seen Jesus?

When you picture Jesus, what does He look like? I'm not talking about, is He dark-skinned or light-skinned, Middle Eastern looking with long hair or short, or is He tall and lanky or strong like the construction worker with whom we are most familiar. I'm asking, does He look like someone you'd want to have lunch with at your favorite food truck or someone you'd be happy to have over to meet your pastor. 

In my world, Jesus looks like my mom. And, I'm admitting, that has been difficult. In my world, Jesus bangs on everything-- tables, the dashboard of the car, the windows, the chair cushion. In my world, Jesus has problems remembering how to use the bathroom in a more "civilized" manner. In my world, Jesus only wants to eat sweets. In my world, Jesus can't remember where I told Him to sit just a minute ago, and is constantly searching my face for cues as to what to do or signs of approval. In my world, Jesus wears me out. There are days when I wish Jesus would just leave for a while, find some other friends to hang out with or get a hotel room, fend for Himself. I sometimes think He's doing this on purpose (and maybe He is).

I was reading 1 Peter 4:9 in the Message, today:

Be quick to give a meal to the hungry, a bed to the homeless-- cheerfully.

Our home is our "safe place." Our home is where we are supposed to be able to kick back, relax, be ourselves, and feel refreshed. Our home is where I work for a Jesus who makes me work just as hard one day to the next. Our home is where Jesus doesn't care about the crumbs He's dropping all over the floor or the noise He is making, which gets increasingly louder the more my husband and I try to talk over it. Our home does not always feel like an oasis or refuge for me. 

But Jesus is. That same Jesus whose teeth I have to brush and whose nails I have to clip whispers, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here and holding you up always." That same Jesus who becomes so frustrated with me He occasionally pulls away from my guiding touch or snaps as if to bite me urges, "Keep your eyes on Me. There is something bigger here, something I have started and want to complete." That same Jesus who just wants me to be where He can see me, to stay right there with Him no matter how many things I have on my to-do list, holds out His arms to me and says, "Abide in Me. You need rest and you will find that in Me."

Back to Basics

In December of last year we were forced to bid goodbye to our canine queen, Tinkerbell. As difficult as it was, our vet had only given her until Thanksgiving, and at fourteen+ years of age, she was far too sick for us to prolong her discomfort any further. March hadn't hit double digits before a friend called, asking if we were interested in a dog. The pup had already been through a lot and had some anxiety. Routine and calm were going to be key to her development. Easier said than done. The first couple of weeks were ruff! (See what I did there?) Sixty-five pounds of puppy energy pulling and nipping day in and day out --everything hurt. She chewed my husband's belongings most of all, and she was quick as lightning. Each evening Scott got home was another round of "How did she get my slippers this time?!" and each morning, another prognosis of failure. In desperation I contacted a trainer.

I had heard the hardest part of training any animal is training the human. When our lessons concluded I was filled with confidence; I had goals and a plan to reach them. Several weeks later, the wheels fell off. I'd grown lax when it came to practicing some of our disciplines. I hadn't been praising her and encouraging her in her work. The copious snuggles and treats she'd been receiving were mere handouts, expressions of care that made me feel good rather than establishing a sense of purpose for her. My lack of direction was starting to show in her behavior. Time to get back to basics. I once again asserted my role as leader. I required her to look at me before doing certain things rather than allowing her to anticipate the next directive. I encouraged her to work for treats and lavish praise. We went back to regular training "appointments" each day, and I challenged her to do things which initially made her apprehensive. I reinstated my goal to gently push her to her full potential.

And that's when I saw it. Luci needs me to lead her and schedule her day: it provides her with security. Luci needs me to remind her to watch me: it will keep her safe. Luci needs me to hold her accountable: that gives her purpose. Luci needs me to walk with her into special circumstances that might make her uneasy: that builds her courage and confidence in me as her leader. Luci needs me to help her become all she can be: it makes life more fulfilling. And I don't mean to be trite, but what a clear picture of the ways in which we depend on God the Father, our Heavenly Authority. If we allow God to lead us and schedule our days we can know we are right where we need to be when we need to be there. What comfort! If we keep our eyes on the Lord, we will see His help and His protection in every circumstance. If we are walking in obedience to the Lord, we will partake of the plan and purpose He has for us. When we are challenged by situations that might take us out of our comfort zone, God just might be developing our confidence in Him. If we trust God will use all circumstances for our good, we can know all things can be used to develop us and make our lives full.

Trust me, there are days when I am no more onboard with what God has planned than Luci is with my program. But the Holy Spirit reminds me there is something more to this than doing what I wish when I choose, and God is patient. He will take me all the way back to the basics if that's what I require: Set your eyes on Me. Know who I am. Depend on Me.

Just My Thoughts... And a Sincere Offer

I used to be one to jump into the fray. Call it the temperance that comes with old age, call it wisdom, call it the Holy Spirit providing me with greater discernment and a greater desire to handle things with love --whatever-- but jumping, into frays, to conclusions, onto bandwagons --wherever-- is not my thing so much anymore. And, besides, when so many people are screaming and so many people are encouraging the screams of others, very few people are listening. I pray that with the time that has passed, someone who needs this is "listening."

I was born to a woman in her thirties, still living at home with her parents, the baby of the family. And her married boyfriend. My mother had been pregnant years before having me; the baby was, she said, stillborn. Mom had never been married. My father had two sons with his wife. He'd grown up in a very conservative home and his wife, from all I've been told, was a lovely, God-fearing woman. My opinion, my father had definitely married up. Nevertheless, he left his wife and sons, and shacked up with my mom. Why, I can't say; theirs was never any wonderful love story. They finally married when I was eight. I can only assume, with two children enrolled in school, my father participating in various social clubs and holding offices in our church, checking the "MARRIED" box on forms made things much less complicated. How easy it would have been for my mother to have spared herself all of that embarrassment, all of the future stress and shame that came with being married to a man who didn't love her, if she'd just had an abortion. I've wondered, if abortion had been the easy option that it is today (Yes, despite the overturn of Roe v. Wade, and the dramatic narrative that surrounds that, it is still easier than it should ever be.) --if abortion had been the easy option it is today and my mother had chosen it, what would my father have done? If I was to rewrite history, I could say that Mom would have been better off without him and he would have stayed where he belonged. But I think we all know there are far too many "what ifs" that happen along the way. As much as we think one problem can be solved by doing something we shouldn't, we usually come to realize we have merely created another. What if Mom had died during that abortion? What if my father had stayed with her anyway? What if people had discovered their dirty little secret? What if I'd survived but been severely affected? What if I hadn't been born? What about my younger brother --would he have been born? His children?

I guess I expected the outrage, I just didn't expect the level of outrage I saw coming from certain people. In 2019 when New York's Reproductive Health Act was passed, allowing abortions to be obtained more readily and past twenty-four weeks of pregnancy, social media was flooded with the grief and prayers of those who disagreed. Last week, the level of vitriol and arrogance coming from those who opposed the Supreme Court's decision was shocking to me. Arguments for abortion --many of which made little sense or were completely inaccurate-- barely made it past the preliminaries before dissolving into hate-filled curses and vicious threats toward those who supported the overturn. And yet, in the midst of all of this chaos, pro-life friends were still posting things like this...

If you are having an unplanned pregnancy and need help, I'd be honored to help and come alongside you. Hugs to all moms, expected or not. You are a treasure.

...and meaning it. I mean it as well. 

Today and Everyday

Recently, Scott and I celebrated fourteen years of marriage. Well, the truth is, we didn't celebrate at all. We forgot it. Not on purpose, mind you, but we were out of town visiting some really important people and having such a wonderful time, we completely forgot to mark the occasion! No dinner at a fancy restaurant or romantic weekend getaway --not even a couple of mass-produced drugstore greeting cards. Just us together. Enrapt in the journey. Lost in the company of others we love. 

In Ephesians 5:22-33, God, through Paul, talks about what He expects from married couples. God is all about relationships, of course, but marriage is a special one: marriage is a picture of Christ's relationship with the Church (not necessarily the members of your local congregation and not the place where you meet, but all of those adopted into God's family). Christ calls the Church "His Bride." Wives are to respectfully submit to and serve their husband in the same way the Church submits to the will of Jesus. Husbands are to love their wife sacrificially, giving their all to lead her in the right way, to tenderly care for her and keep her chaste, to build her up and cherish her. The two are to become one in the same way a Christian becomes one with Christ. 

Marriage is an earthly expression of a heavenly covenant. And it's that "earthly" part that guarantees it will have its share of difficulties and imperfections. Worse than forgotten anniversaries, there are temptations and trials that attack our marriages from the world around us: unmarried friends who seem to have so much freedom, financial burdens, work that never seems to stay at work, even the joy of children can test the durability of the closest bonds. And there are those things that lie within both of a marriage's imperfect participants, selfish things that weary of "letting" the other have their way, tiny irritations that seem to grow exponentially as our personal anxieties take center stage. And, lest we forget, Satan mounts his attack. Oh, the satisfaction he must feel when yet another illustration of God's holy relationship with His people is dissolved formally and finally in the courts of his world! 

It's beyond sad. But marriage is meant to be greater than the smiles and dream vacations we post on social media. Marriage is strengthened in the three hundred sixty-five+ days of every year, the rainy Mondays, the mundane Tuesdays, the uphill Wednesdays, the ugly Thursdays, and unbearable Fridays. Marriage is a commitment to faithfully and humbly serve when all of those sweet, wonderful, so-easy-to-come-by feelings have retreated a little more deeply beneath the surface of time and self-righteousness. Marriage is taking the discovery and growth of morning devotions with a Savior who knows us better than we know ourselves, and treating another human being with the same desire to know and be known. Marriage is a promise not only to the one we faced on that special day last week or all those golden years ago, but it is a promise to God that, with His help, we will represent His relationship with His people as accurately and with as much honor as we are able; and it is a promise to all people that the Savior of the world loves them and desires a relationship with them, one in which they can grow and experience wholeness.

Our anniversary may have come and gone without either of us thinking back to the day we said, "I do," but marriage is about more than one day. Like being a part of the family of God, it is about becoming lost in the bond of doing life together. In retrospect, there was no better way to mark such a milestone.