All posts by Jeff

This morning was bittersweet.  This is my fourth year of seminary.  I’ve officially spent more time in graduate school than I did in undergrad!  Almost all of the students that Jeff and I started school with have graduated and are long gone.  New faces have popped up, really young ones, and I notice a few small changes around.  There is a new microwave, which is a huge improvement on the old one which took five minutes to warm a bowl of soup.  There is a plant shelf in the woman’s bathroom, and a pump of Trader Joe’s lotion by the sink.  I know, not a big deal but I notice these things.  The biggest change in the school is not visible-they’ve gone from Multnomah Bible College and Seminary to Multnomah University.  Doesn’t affect me that much. Tuition has gone from $407 a credit to $423 a credit (which does affect me, unfortunately).

For the most part though, nothing is new. I am pregnant, but I’ve done that before too.  Two years ago I started a fall term pregnant as well.  And this isn’t my first time as a seminary mom, we did that last year as well.  I guess the one thing that’s significant is that this is my last first day of school…I think (more on that later).  As I look around, waves of memories roll over me.  The smells, the sights, the familiar voices.  I have too many memories of throwing up in the bathrooms when morning sickness overtook me that first spring term.  I remember hysterically crying in the stairwell when a traumatic family event took place.  I remember first meeting my friend Liz, and awkwardly conversing about degrees and programs.  I remember (and am beginning to even feel) laboring up the staircase 8 1/2 months pregnant, wondering how they they seemed to add more stairs every week.  I remember the first day I went to school without Jeff, crying in my car trying to muster up the courage to go it along.  I remember hundreds of trips driving to and from McMinnville.  In many ways Multnomah University has become a second home to me.  The professors are friends, mentors, spiritual parents.  The students, though perhaps not many are close friends, are familiar, sharing the common goal of desiring to serve the Lord, and sharing the common struggle of work schedules, homework loads, obscene school loans, and family commitments.

But this Monday was my first last day of school.  Strangely though, I don’t really want to be done.  I’m not sure what lies ahead, but more on that later.  Tonight I’m just reflecting on what an amazing place Multnomah has been for me.  More than an education, it’s been a place of refuge, growth, challenge, safety. A place where I can risk, fail, hurt, be vulnerable, ask questions, doubt, challenge, and love.  It’s been a place where I feel valued, invested in, and cared for.  I could never ask for anything more than what Multnomah has been for me. So tonight I just say thanks, thanks to the professors, counselors, janitors, president, and people who have made Multnomah home for me.  On my last first day of school I’m thankful.

I will not lie–I’m loving having a home.  Sometimes it feels a little funny, when I pull in the driveway I still feel like I’m visiting my brother.  But filled with our things, and with Jeff and Dutch, it has quickly become home to me.  I have however, noticed a very subtle change during this unpack (as mentioned before, I’ve done this 8 times in our married life).  I’ve noticed that stuff has become markedly more exterior than ever before.  Let me explain.

I love beauty.  I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that it is natural and normal to relish and enjoy the beauty in things. God does.   So naturally, my goal as a wife and mother is not only to create a place of utility, with functional furniture and easily accessible dishes, but to also create a place of beauty, tranquility, and peace.  I firmly believe that that is a right and worthy goal.  It has actually been really fun getting this house ready because our very goal is to have the house showcase-ready for potential buyers and weekend open-houses.  So it’s actually my responsibility to have the house beautiful, and is a perfect excuse to exercise my creativity in home decor. But, as I’ve unpacked and cleaned, arranged, hung pictures, fluffed pillows, folded towels, I’ve noticed that though there is certainly a joy, a very deep and profound joy, in creating this beautiful haven we now call home, it’s strangely exterior to my heart.  Before, keeping and beautifying our home was very much part of me, and of course it still is to an extent, but it no longer has any bearing on who I am as a person.  My house does not define me.  And in that, I’m surprised by the fact that I no longer love my stuff.  I don’t!  I don’t love my clothes, I don’t love my furniture, and I don’t love my house!  They are wonderful, beautiful, functional, useful, and I thank God each day for all of the stuff that I have that carries me through my day.  I am thankful for the car that runs, the beautiful dining room table that was purchased 8 months ago for a song at a furniture sale, that Oneida dishes I found at Goodwill yesterday for 99cents.  I am thankful for these things, but I don’t love them.  I use them and enjoy them. I love people, and worship God.

I’d like to think that I’m just way behind the curve and the rest of the world has already mastered this concept.  But sadly, I think we’re all still learning.  Right now I’m studying for the upcoming retreat, exploring the final session topic: Enjoying Fulfillment: How to enjoy God’s blessing without worshipping them.  Sadly, in our culture we do worship stuff.  We love stuff and use people.  We get married and use our spouse to provide us happiness, then when the spouse no longer fills that use and fails to make us happy, we move onto another spouse who we then use to make us happy again.  We use our friends, family, co-workers.  We engage in relationships and friendships so long as that person contributes to our well-being. As soon as they deplete our emotional resources or do not contribute to our happiness, we move on.  We use people.

And sadly, we love things.  We are notorious for the delusional belief that more stuff will make us happy.  Now that we’ve moved, we were planning on taking a trip to Ikea to get inexpensive things we need for the house.  Our city’s Ikea has been open for over a year, but we’ve never gone because I didn’t want to create discontentment in my heart about not having a home (like going shopping when you have no money).  So we figured now we’d go and find stuff we need.  But strangely, as I’ve thought this week about taking a trip there, I cannot think of any stuff that we need.  (Well, we need a plastic shower curtain liner, which will run me about $1.50, and we need a little curtain rod for Dutch’s room, which is $3.99.)  Besides that, I can’t for the life of me think of anything that we need.  Blessed state!  The mistake I (and all Americans) usually make is that we love stuff, so we love to go to stores to see what we need, because we love to see all the stuff that we supposedly need.

So, I have not arrived, but I am beginning to see a tiny hair of progress by the grace of God.  The clothing fast (I’m almost at 5 months without buying clothes!), the year of living with mom and dad, the jobless state that has been our life :-), I’m beginning to see how God was slowly extracting poisonous roots of materialism from my heart. I know there are probably still some pretty stubborn ones in there, but I’ll trust God to continue to root those out.

So, where am I going with all this?  I suppose I’m just challenging myself, and you if you wish, to make a conscious effort this week to simply use stuff and enjoy people.  Don’t use the people in your life–love them unconditionally.  Don’t love the stuff you own, use it.  Enjoy the things that you have, but gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and worship Him, the one who made all things.  How can we do this practically?  For me this means being content with the state of our home, without looking for more things that we “need”.  It means pouring my time and effort into being with people, ministering, working on my notes for the retreat, playing with Dutch, talking with Jeff.  It means spending less time thinking about how much weight I’ve gained (6 lbs. since my last prenatal appointment–good grief! Ok, done thinking about it.), or how all of Dutch’s pants are too short and he looks kind of dorky.

Use and enjoy the things that you have.  Love the people in your life (even the difficult ones!), and worship the God who gives us all things freely to enjoy.  Worship Him alone.

I almost don’t know where to start because the cup of my heart is overflowing and it won’t just pour out in a neat little spout, it’s just running out all over the place.  My heart is full.  I do have a migraine right now (I think we’re going to name this baby Migraina or Migraino depending upon the gender), but I’m so blessed it kind of doesn’t matter.  On the one hand I will say this, moving with a toddler, while pregnant, is not advisable. 🙂  I asked Jeff last night, “Why is it that this move seems 100 times harder than any other we’ve done?” (we’ve moved 8 times in a little over 5 years).  I knew it wasn’t pregnancy because we moved while I was pregnant last time.  Ah! Then the light went on.  Dutch!  It is my 20-month old wild man who is causing the challenge!  It is a blessed, hilarious, sweet, wouldn’t-trade-it-for-a-moment challenge but it is a challenge nonetheless. Last time we moved Dutch was immobile. Ah but now.  Now!  It is an adventure!  Then little Migraina/Migraino decides to make his/her presence known, and alas, the boxes are taunting me with their still-full state.

But, I am blessed!  I feel like I’ve gone to the relational chiropractor and had them aligned.  Let me explain.  First, my parents.  If you only know me through this blog, which has only existed for a year, perhaps you don’t understand the amazing depth of love and relationship I have with my parents…because I whined so much about living there.  But while it was hard to not have my own home, and hard at times to feel like I was in high school all over again, I adore, admire, and cherish my parents above all over relationships, except Jeff.  They sacrifice to no end. Last week my dad fell off a ladder and badly bruised his chest.  Insisting he was fine, he and Jeff moved our entire household, without any help. They carried everything–beds, couch, dressers.  Then, yesterday afternoon, upon my mom’s prodding he finally went to the doctor because the pain in his ribs was still so severe.  He had two broken ribs!  With two broken ribs he moved our entire household!  He made four trips in with his truck so that we wouldn’t have to rent a van, he drove us to our cousin’s house so we could pick up the free couch she gave us (answer to prayer–free couch!).  He fixed the dresser drawer that flew off the truck and was driven over (!), and glued together Dutch’s airplane toy that was broken.  His love and service to us is unending.

Then there’s my mom.  My relationship with my mom is that of friendship.  One of the things that was hardest for me living there was that I felt like I’d lost my friendship with my mom.  Whereas before I would call her, ask advice, email her, etc. when I lived there that was strangely lost.  It was the same as when two friends move in and become roommates and then realize they are no longer friends, they’re just roommates.  I grieved over that when we lived there, but a wise woman assured me we’d be friends again, and even better because of the year we’d gone through sharing a kitchen (!).  And it’s true. I just hung up the phone with my mom, and it’s as if our friendship has been re-aligned.  Now we have the freedom to be friends again.  I’m so thankful to have her back, as strange as that might sound.

And perhaps the relationship that’s most sweetly re-aligned is that of my sweet husband.  (ok now the tears are coming)  This might sound like an exaggeration, but I feel like we’re newlyweds again (except now with a toddler and a growing belly!).  There is a sacredness about sharing every detail of life together, about forging ahead, just the two of you, sharing challenges, hopes, sorrows.  It was no one’s fault, but that was missing this past year, and I was afraid we’d never get it back.  This morning as he left for work, I just held him in my arms, speechless with how proud I am of him, how much I admire and love him, how thankful I am for his constancy, support, and wisdom.  Last night I was struggling with something, and it was so sweet to be able to curl up next to him on the couch and just ask for his advice, to hear his wisdom, the way he can see through the drama details and see to the heart of the issue.  I know this past year was soooo good for us, but I have to say I’m thankful to have our relationship re-aligned.

I do miss seeing Dutch playing outside with my dad. I miss the river, the horses, the smell of the country, the sight of Dutch curled up with my mom reading a book.  But we’re headed out there this weekend, and I’ll savor those sights and smells then.  Right now I’m just humbled, thankful, and blessed by my relationships re-aligned.

Today it’s supposed to reach 104 degrees, so of all days this is not the time to try to convince you that Oregon is a cold state.  But it is.  Relationally that is.  Now I love Oregon.  I bleed green, I love the trees, the rolling hills, the lack of sales tax, the fact that we have mountains and oceans just a few hours apart.  I love everything about Oregon, even the rain.  Our little stint in California only made me realize that much more that nothing save a voice from heaven could get me to leave my beloved Pacific Northwest. I love it here.

Since I’ve lived here my whole life, I’ve become pretty familiar with the climate–I know that summer doesn’t start until the 4th of July and isn’t over until the end of September. I know that it’s always sunny over Finals week of Winter term, then rains again all of April.  But it wasn’t until recently that I became more aware of the relational climate here.  One of my professors moved here from Texas (since that’s where DTS is, pretty much all professors move here from Texas), and remarked how it took almost a year of adjustment to get used to the cool unfriendliness of Oregonians. What?  I think of myself as a friendly person, so this caught me off guard.  Are we really unfriendly?  My travels have included London, Paris, and the California Bay Area, and Oregon is really friendly compared to those areas!

But then I took a trip and visited my brother and his family in Utah.  I’d heard their stories–they moved there and after their first visit to church they’d had 3-4 invites over to dinner at different couple’s houses.  They had neighbors bring treats over, offers to help them move in, and even had a neighbor bring over little girl hand-me-down clothes for their daughter.  I thought of our church in our previous town (which was wonderful, this isn’t again that church), and realized that we were there almost two years before we were ever invited over to dinner anywhere (and that was from the pastor himself!).   Then, we moved here, and Jeff and I were just marveling that we’ve been going here for almost 14 months and only once have we been invited over for dinner by someone from church, and that was from a high school friend after we’d had them over for dinner.  We’ve had tons of people over to our house, so it’s not as if we’re sitting around waiting for people to befriend us… it’s just made us think.

Now perhaps you’re thinking, “Uh, if nobody invites you over there’s probably something wrong with you!”  Perhaps you’re right.  We’ve made plenty of connections with people, but what I’m addressing here is the fact that perhaps there is a cooler relational culture in the NW.  But regardless of where you live, the fact of the matter is that the church must permeate the culture.  Must.  The church is not peripheral to the world, the world is peripheral to the church.  No matter what the culture is like in which we live, our job, as Christians, is to rise above any cultural weaknesses and be the hands and feet of Christ to those around us.

Thinking about this, I also read a post about the Hawaiian concept of ‘Ohana (it’s a really great post), and thought more about how Hawaiians seem to understand the concept of hospitality.  And we all know that the Southerners got it down.  But again, it seems to me that regardless of where we live, love, service, and hospitality should mark our lives as Christians.  This is to truly LiveDifferent.

So our challenge this week is to look around.  Do you see someone new? Invite them over for dinner. You don’t have a nice house for entertaining? Who cares? They won’t!  People are so blessed to be welcomed, no one is evaluating your house decor.  Hear about someone having a baby? Take them meals.  Someone moving?  Help them load boxes (you can help us!) :-).  Someone new move in down your street? Take them a welcome basket and let them know you’re happy they’re there.  It takes so little to really bless people.  I remember so clearly the little acts of love that have blessed me.  When our neighbor, Tony, brings us fresh fish from his Mexico trips.  When our friends from McMinnville brought us the hot meal after Dutch was born and we devoured it like wolves.  When a guy from Jeff’s work, whom he hardly knew, drove an hour to come help us move.  When I walk down the driveway and the neighbors wave and smile.

It might be hot right now, but I suggest that we turn up the relational heat a little and thaw out the coolness that can characterize our culture. In a country of independence, reach out and help those who need it, and receive from those who offer to help you. Invite, bless, give, help.  Choose to warm up your little sphere of influence for the glory of God.

This morning I read this, one of my favorite lines of Scripture:

Bless the LORD, O my soul; and all that is within me, bless His holy name!

Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits.  (Ps. 103:1-2)

Now this is obvious, but why would God tell us to “forget not” all His benefits?  Because we forget!  We’re called to remember, recount, retell, and rejoice in all that God has done for us!  You might be thinking, well it’s easy for you to do right now because you just got good news that you’re moving.  But it was last weekend, before I knew anything of any move, that God really showed me the importance of thankfulness (read Repenting…again).  So, on the eve of our move, as we transition to this new season, I wanted to reflect and review these past 13+ months, and forget not all His benefits during this time.  The list could go on forever. He’s 20…

1. We saved over $20,000 in mortgage and bills by living here (I guess technically we didn’t save it because we don’t have it, but we didn’t spend that much!).
2. Dutch has the most amazing relationship with Oma and Papa that will never be taken away.
3. Jeff and I have weathered significant storms and our roots are deeper.
4. “I had heard of [God] by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees [Him].” Job 42:5
5. We’ve met sweet and precious people out here in this small town.
6. I learned that I am not defined by what I do.
7. Jeff learned he is not defined by what he does.
8. We pared down our belongings significantly and got organized!
9. Jeff has established a wonderful relationship with our dear Pastor Dale, friend and mentor.
10. I had help with Dutch and the house through my horrid first-trimester sickness.
11. We were able to share daily joys and sorrows with my parents.
12. We learned priceless life lessons from them about selflessness, humility, and godliness.This blog was birthed!!!!
13. We’ve had the glorious rushing river right outside our bedroom window.
14. We’ve had countless hours throwing rocks in the river, feeding hay to the horsies, walking hundreds of miles up and down the driveway.
15. We’ve picked berries, planted a garden, harvested loads of basil for fresh pesto, patronized the library (!).
16. Jeff has racked up hundreds of miles on his bike riding too and from work.
17. I’ve enjoyed my share of lazy hours lounging in the pool reading novels.
18. I learned that the world will not fall apart if the refrigerator is not clean.
19. We have a million memories we will look back on and laugh about for years and years to come.

I wish there were words to somehow convey how incredibly indebted I am to God and to my parents for their grace.  God, gentle, loving, tender, forgiving, but firm, refusing to just give me my own way, but loving me enough to take me through the fire, letting the dross rise to the surface, revealing the ugliness I’d rather cover up.  My parents, endlessly patient, never taking offense no matter how cross a mood I was in, never demanding their own way, always ready to serve, help, love, give.  Ever living to bless us.  I pray that Jeff and I can be 1/2 the godly parents and grandparents that Bill and Karen Zyp are.  I am humbled beyond words by their lives (and I’ve seen them up close!)

So, this season is closing…we head to the beach tomorrow morning with other family, and be sure to check out tomorrow’s LiveDifferent Post on Permeating Culture, but I’ll be unplugged Saturday and Sunday, and from then on I’ll be writing from a new spot.  New adventures ahead, new challenges, joys, struggles, lessons.  Stay tuned.  Thanks for reading, and consider today His benefits and forget them not.

Ok, so I’m really no good at keeping secrets (my own secrets–I am good at keeping other people’s secrets) because I get so excited about things God shows me I have to share them.  John Piper once said that if you find yourself, when you are studying and reading God’s Word, constantly thinking of ways to communicate those truths to others, then you can pretty much bet that you’re a teacher at heart.  That hit me like a ton of bricks. Ok, guilty as charged. I’m a teacher.

So I mentioned before I’m teaching at this women’s retreat (Kelli please just act surprised when I share this stuff with the ladies there!), and for the past few weeks I have been absolutely spinning my wheels at studying. NOTHING is happening. I’m praying, reading, studying, and it’s like I have this bag over my head and I can see nothing.  So frustrating.  So I kept waiting and praying and today I’m studying and the light is finally turning on! Thank you, God.  God always reminds me that it is His Spirit that does the work because I literally am nothing and have nothing to say until His Spirit illuminates His Word for me.

So anyway, we are talking at the retreat about Expectancy without Expectation, and the first session is on Disappointments.  Who of us hasn’t keenly felt disappointments?  I’ve mentioned before I feel like this entire year has been one long disappointment.  But I’ve never found a book entitled “The God of Disappointment”…but right now I’m tempted to write one!  Because check this out, if you look at Scripture, God is all about disappointing people!  I looked up the word disappointment in my dictionary and it said, (tada!) “Thwarted Expectation”.  God is in the business of thwarting our expectations so that He can do greater and more glorious works than we ever imagined.  Hooray!  Not convinced yet? Check out these examples:

1. Abraham: God promises he will be the father of many nations right? Then what?  He can’t have kids. He’s disappointed. Expectations thwarted. He then gets so frustrated he takes matters into his own hands and has Ishmael, the child of the flesh, through his servant Hagar. Bickering and grief ensue.
2. Joseph: God shows him in a dream that his brothers will bow down to him as ruler.  He winds up dumped in a pit then sold to the Egyptians, then spends 14 years in a prison, wrongly accused of harassing Potipher’s wife, then forgotten by the cupbearer, forsaken.  Disappointed.  Thwarted Expectations.
3. Moses: God will make him the deliverer of Israel.  Then what? He kills an Egyptian and there’s a warrant out for his head, basically.  He winds up spending 40 long years living with his father-in-law in the desert (hey, that sounds familiar!).  Disappointed.  Expectations thwarted.
4. The children of Israel: God is going to deliver them from the Egyptians and the hand of Pharaoh, so after the exhilarating plagues and parting of the Red Sea, then what?  Left to wander in the wilderness for forty years while the entire complaining generation is slowly killed off.  Disappointed.  Thwarted Expectations.
5. David: God will make him king, anoints him through the prophet Samuel.  Then what? Saul tries to have him killed, and he spends 10-14 years living in caves in the desert, trying to escape from the hand of Saul.  Disappointed. Expectations thwarted.
6. The Disciples: God will send a Messiah who will come and save the world.  Then Jesus comes, who neither fights nor takes over anything, doesn’t even resist the Romans, but is a lowly servant and calls them to a lowly servant life.  Then he does the unthinkable and goes and gets Himself killed-what a tragic end!  Disappointment.  Expectations thwarted.

There is obviously more to these stories … and that is where we will go later on in the weekend.  But consider just stepping in at halftime.  What would they think?  What emotions would they feel? I suggest that they would feel keen and miserable disappointment. I suggest that we love and serve an awesome, majestic, glorious, beautiful, worthy, and infinitely valuable God of Disappointment.  And I love Him for it. 🙂