The Spark (must read for every mom)
The storm had come suddenly, sometime between sandwiches and schooltime, and the branches banged against the house, and the lightweight lawn-chairs did flips across the lawn. The storm was just severe enough to be fun.
“May we please go play in the wind before math?!”
It was respectfully asked, and there it was in his eyes, the spark.
I bent down and smiled straight into that spark: “Ten minutes. Ready? GO!”
A blur of boots (no time for a coat!) ran out the door, and I watched from the kitchen window as they ran across the yard, flapping arms and laughing, feeling the powerful gusts push them along.
I glanced back at the book there on the counter, ready to be returned to the library, and gratitude welled up in me again for Kristine Barnett’s message to all moms: {Read the rest over here … THANK YOU!}
The blessing of a good enemy
Sometimes a good enemy is our greatest asset.
We seldom think so though, right? I know if someone comes “against” me so to speak, whatever the situation, my first inclination is not to rejoice. We bristle under criticism and balk at those who don’t agree with us, brilliantly crafting arguments for why we are SO right (and awesome).
This weekend Jeff taught that we tend to be blind to our own faults, but hyper-aware of others. If someone else lies, “They’re a liar!” If we lie, “Well … it’s complicated.” Ha! Last year I read the phenomenal book I Told Me So, a brilliant look at our own tendency for self-deception. It’s a fabulous read–worth your time!
What does this have to do with our enemies?
Well, our enemies are actually our greatest asset in our venture to live free(r) or self-deception, to live a life of authenticity and integrity, actually being who we want to be. How so?
I recently was in an interpersonal challenge, and was struggling to love. For nearly a week, I was in default mode, i.e. coming up with a hundred arguments why I was right (and awesome) and another person was wrong (and not awesome). Somewhere along the line, however, God was so gracious and suggested to my heart that I go ahead and see myself the way this other person sees me. That is, the way my enemy sees me. He invited me to imagine, just for a moment, what that person would say if he or she was allowed to tear me apart limb for limb.
*Cringe face here*
Now some of you are shaking your head right now: Not a good idea, you are saying. I’m not advocating that we always see ourselves through the eyes of enemies, or that we doubt for a moment that we are loved and precious and accepted by God. That’s not what’s going on here. What I’m suggesting is that our enemies are actually helpful because they help us see our blind spots, the area of obvious sin or weakness, that we might be hiding from ourselves.
So I did this. It was so good.
Notice I didn’t say it was fun. But it was good. It helped me see some areas of pride and hypocrisy that, deep down, I knew my “enemy” (using that word loosely!), would spot in a split-second.
The benefit of this exercise was 2-fold. It highlighted some areas where my character really needs work. Really. But secondly, it helped me see the entire situation through the perspective of this other person and realized, “Wow, no wonder this person feels like that.” Not only that, this led me to consistently pray for this person out of a heart of love, genuinely asking for blessing, and the next thing I knew the “interpersonal challenge” began resolving!
Interpersonal insight AND increased empathy AND relational reconciliation. Wow, that’s a great deal!
And it all started with just listening a little closer to an enemy.
Of course I’m sure I’ll still bristle and balk and brilliantly craft self-promoting arguments the next time I face an enemy, but I pray God helps us be just a little quicker to see our own short-comings through the eyes of those who may not be a big fan of us.
And I pray we ask God to help us live in such a way that even our enemies have nothing against us, that our lives lead those around us to glorify God (1 Peter 2:12).
God give us the humility and grace to live this way. For your glory. Amen.
{Thanks for reading.}
Jeff and the Turkey-Hat Girl (Because we each run our own race)
Hello!
It’s so good to be back here. You probably didn’t notice, but I’ve been gone for 2 weeks, on a 3,000 mile road trip to visit family for Thanksgiving. I’ve had a guest post and reposts and what not, but I’ve been mostly unplugged for two weeks straight.
It feels good to sit down here, now, and say, Hello!
One of my favorite parts about family trips is that I get to read. I always take with me the really delicious books like fiction, memoirs, or just highly recommended reads that I know I’ll want to crawl right into and lose myself in the pages. I can’t let myself read these during “normal” life or no one would get fed. So I wait for trips, and then … devour.
My two favorite reads from this trip were The Spark and The Homeschool Experiment. I’ll review each of these later, but one small reflection I made, as I finished the final pages, was that both of the moms represented in these books were similar to me, but oh so different too. Often I felt like I was reading about myself. But then there were other parts where we differ vastly. In some ways, their lives made mine look SO EASY. Oh my. My life looks like a walk in the park compared! In other ways, I have some life circumstances that make a lot more challenging, or at least different, for me.
So what struck me about these two great books written by two great moms, was just this: We’re each running our own race. I don’t have to run their race and they don’t have to run mine.
On Thanksgiving morning, Jeff ran a Turkey Trot race.The race has a 5k option and 10k option and both run at the same time, together. More than 4,000 people ran this race, so the place was swamped.
Now, Jeff is fast. He ran the 10k race, and he began 10 minutes after everyone because it was so crowded. Because of that, and because of running the farther distance, he came across the finish line at the same time as … well, people who are running a whole different kind of race altogether, let’s just say that. So my hard-core husband comes sprinting across the finish line next to … look to the left. Do you see her?
That’s a tutu. And a turkey hat. Yes, dear Turkey Hat Girl is directly to his right, finishing her own little merry race, grinning ear to ear, as Jeff is striding it out for his Personal Record.
And there they are … crossing the finish line together.
Because isn’t that it? She doesn’t have to win Jeff’s race. She’s winning her own. Jeff’s 10k PR is completely irrelevant to her own happy adventure.
And there they are, side-by-side at the finish line. Sure, he ran farther, faster, but there they are, both champions because they both got out there and ran their own race the best they could.
I’m not Kristine Barnett or Charity Hawkins or you. You are not me. But what a joy it is to run together, amen?
I’ll do my race, you do yours, and we might just cross the finish line together.
{Happy race-running! Thanks for reading.}
The hardest thing in the world
You know if something’s valuable by whether you’re willing to move everything around to make space for it.
The day Julie moved in we hauled furniture up and down the stairs. We rearranged and rearranged and rearranged the tiny bedroom she now calls home.
She’s worth it, of course!
But it was also worth moving furniture around for this tiny new item weighing less than a pound.
It was a Christmas gift, a long cylindrical package, and it had the kids crouched around in curiosity. What is it?!
Jeff and I smiled at each other, knowing.
We pulled off the wrapping and slowly unrolled, and there it was …
The world.
The kids were thrilled. We are all map-lovers and quickly began scheming furniture rearrangements in order to make wall space for this new view of the world.
The really big map already hung downstairs, in the hall (SEE HERE). This new one found a home up in the learning loft, at a height easily accessible to little eyes and tiny pointing fingers finding new frontiers. It took a lot of rearranging and we had to get rid of some less important items, but it was worth it.
Why?
Because of the world outside these walls.
Because the hardest thing in the world is to make myself care about just that–the world outside these walls.
Because I know myself and every human heart and our bent toward all things Me. And life in my middle-class American bubble can lull me to spiritual sleep and I need a daily reminder: There’s a whole world out there that God loves. And surely loving others is not so easy to hanging a map on the wall, but we do not naturally think of other cultures, other countries, other places a world away from us that need the same good news, the same love, the same hope, the same truth.
The same Jesus.
And so the same way that I love having Julie live here because she daily reminds us of a way different world than the one we’ve ever known, I love living with maps on the walls because it daily reminds me that there is so much life outside those walls and I can chill out about the insignificant irritations and petty things that plague me and I get the daily view I need so desperately:
Life outside myself.
The hardest thing in the world is to live outside ourselves. Beyond ourselves. But what about protecting our children? Yes, absolutely! Let’s protect our children from the greatest dangers–the familiars: Sin and selfishness and our heart’s natural tendency to curve in on itself a thousand ways each day.
So, do maps on the wall cure selfishness? Of course not. But our children (and us!) are shaped most by what we continually put in front of their eyes, so perhaps we can pick the marginalized instead of the movie stars, the downcast instead of the Disney channel, the poor instead of the popular. Not in a guilt-mongering, finger-wagging way, in a joyful upside-down kingdom way. Because joy comes from living outside ourselves.
And I want that joy.
{And so, in step with this, I will be returning to regular posts (1x/week) about the beautiful lives of those impacted by Gospel for Asia and World Vision. For the sake of turning our hearts continually outward, to the world God loves. I pray you’re having a blessed week. Thanks for reading.}
Setting the course for your family this year
Yes, this post is late.
My apologies. As life is a bit full at the moment, interruptions come and stuff happens and this beautiful mess of life is teeming with abundant chaotic joy. And these precious kids I have, time is so short with them! And this weather we’re having is too glorious to pass up so instead of writing this morning we took a long hike to the produce stand for a backpack full of zucchini and then munched homemade chocolate chip cookies perched in the sunshine on the sidewalk curb. There you have it. My honest confession.
Oh there is so much I want to write to you! SO much, people! The strange thing about LIFE is that when it’s full it speaks the most and when we’re up to our eyeballs in God’s glorious adventure we rarely have time to write it all down! So my apologies at the lateness and the lack and I will write more later, but for now I had promised a few people I would re-share this information on Creating a Family Mission Statement.
It’s a fun process, and when life comes hard and fast and dozens of choices present themselves each day, our mission statement centers back on the vision of what God wants for your family. So, if you haven’t yet created a Family Mission Statement (even if you a family of one!), now’s a great time. We used a fun online tool that helps you craft your own statement.
Although I never dreamed in a million years we would be living the sort of life-adventure that we are, when I look at our family mission statement … it fits. It’s a full, fun, frustrating, faith-filled adventure, and at times I wonder what on earth we’re doing, but it fits with the vision God has given us for our family.
So, what are you doing tonight? Take some time to pray, dream, draft, and use this fun online tool to draft up a Family Mission Statement. And just for fun, here is ours…
Patterson Mission Statement:
As a family we seek to glorify God by daily embodying the gospel in intentional ways: Through generosity, simplicity, faithfulness, joy, humility, grace, care, and thoughtful expressions of love.
- We will nurture our spiritual growth and love relationship with Jesus by making personal worship, prayer, and Bible times of primary importance.
- We will be careful and intentional about time commitments, guarding family evenings and date nights while inviting others freely into our lives.
- We will grow in sacrificial giving by increasing the money given away to international causes and missions while spending less on ourselves each year.
- We will take care of our bodies, souls, and spirits by staying physically fit, nourishing our bodies with real food, and carving out regular time for rest, renewal, relaxation, and recreation.
- We will seek to make every moment an opportunity to teach, shape, nurture, and inspire our children to be Christ-followers. We will seek to make the gospel attractive by living in grace, joy, and freedom. We will seek to instruct and shape their hearts rather than merely modify their behavior. We will seek to motivate them by love and grace rather than pride and fear. We will praise their obedience, humility, generosity, godly ambition and courage.
- We will measure “success” by whether our and our children’s hearts are being increasingly conformed to the image of Christ.
{Have a beautiful day. Thanks for reading.}
Join us for Colossians: Fully Pleasing God {Free Online Bible Study}
Of all our aims and goals and New Year’s resolutions, our ultimate purpose encompasses them all: Pleasing God.
Paul exhorts his readers in Ephesians 5: Find out what pleases the Lord. As beloved children of God, this is our loftiest life calling. The whole book of Colossians flows out of Paul’s prayerful heart for these faithful believers:
“And so, from the day we heard, we have not ceased to pray for you, asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of His will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to Him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God.” Col. 1:9-10
And now … I’m so excited for this! Although I hope and pray that you have access to some fabulous in-person Bible study resources through your local church, if you do not I am thrilled to invite you to journey with us through Colossians, via an online Bible study.
The study runs from January 22nd-March 12th (8 weeks) and includes audio teaching (roughly 35 minutes) and Walk it Out assignments that include things to think about, things to read, and things to do. Each Wednesday, the audio teaching and Walk it Out will be posted on the Sacred Mundane Facebook page. You can listen, download the assignment, and work through the study each week. We can also interact, discuss, share prayer requests and thoughts about the study there on the Facebook page. You would also gather a few friends and do the study together, if you wish.
As we journey through this letter, we will set our hearts on this one goal: Fully pleasing God. We’d be so honored if you’d join us. No need to pay or submit a sign-up, as long as you have “liked” the Sacred Mundane page, you’ll have access to the materials each week.
Ready? So excited for this opportunity to dig into God’s Word together, no matter where you are or what your schedule or what challenges you have getting out of the house. 😉 More than anything else, God’s Word changes us. It never returns void, but always accomplishes God’s work in our lives.
May you commit this year to learning it and loving it.
{Thanks so much for reading.}
{Join us in person? If you do live in the Portland area we welcome you to join us in person, Tuesdays Jan 21st-March 11th. More information here.}
I Will Look Up: The one resolution you need this year
My voice shall you hear in the morning, O LORD;
in the morning will I direct my prayer to you, and will look up.
Psalm 5:3
I will look up with a little sigh when she shuffles early into my room, as she does every morning. I will close the laptop and pull back the covers so she can crawl in. I will pull the covers up far enough to shade her eyes from the lamplight. She will rub her eyes sleepily and ask to snuggle, or for a snack, or cry a little and say she’s cold. Whether she’s happy or grumpy, whatever mood or day it is, one thing remains the same: My workday begins now. And though my flesh may long for more sleep, more me-time, more margin, I will trust Him with each moment, and I will look up.
I will look up from my computer in frustration, wanting to beat my head against the wall. My narrow window of free time is closing fast, and the health insurance site isn’t working and I still need to get groceries before picking up the kids from a birthday party. I will feel my blood pressure rising as I fight to breathe, pray, trust. I will fight the feeling of failure and defeat as I reflect back on a day where nothing went as planned. With a deep breath and a whispered prayer, I will look up.
I will look up sharply when she says the words. They’re wounding, and I reel a bit as I stumble through keeping the conversation going. What did she mean by that? I had felt such peace and calm a few minutes ago; why will I allow this person to throw me for a loop? Slowly, like cold water seeping in, I will feel the insecurity and fears creep around me. But as I drive away I will remind myself of all the gospel truth I read that very morning, and even though I’m feeling shaken, I will look up.
I will look up at the amount as she rings up my groceries. That much? Things are tight and I can feel that tightening in my chest and trust is the only thing that loosens everything and makes me free. I will turn my attention to the truth tucked into my heart, and I will look up.
I will look up at the calendar and wonder where on earth those dozen days went. The weeks go by faster and faster and is it really a new year again? Is it really two-thousand-fourteen? And suddenly my parents are aging so fast and my kids aren’t so little anymore and did I spend enough time rocking, cuddling, caring? What sorrows will the coming years bring? But instead of dwelling back there or up ahead, I will step into this moment, anchored to eternity, and I will look up.
I will look up at the woman in the mirror. Why does she look so tired? So old? I will look at her shoulders, drooping from the weight of responsibility, of letting many lean hard into her daily. I will be tempted to despair, tired and overwhelmed. But I will receive His new mercies, call to mind His faithfulness, and I will look up.
As I look back on my childhood, I can see myself standing on a metal folding chair in church, listening to and watching the adults around me sing this simple chorus, with eyes closed and palms upturned:
Oh Lord in the morning, will I direct my prayer,
unto Thee and will look up.
It is really that simple. The first and most important order of business, for life, is to look up. Consistently, persistently, continually.
I have read through the Bible, cover to cover, fifteen times. For fifteen years I have made the one small, simple, humble habit of looking up every morning. It is nothing spectacular or thrilling. It is just a long string a little obediences. It is a simple decision to rise and seek Him first. Before little ones. Before the phone begins to chime. Before the onslaught of life comes, unrelenting, my way. Before my conflicting desires pull me different directions. Above all and before all, I humbly commit to look up. This one small habit has changed my life more powerfully than anything else.
When I seek Him first each morning He hands me the lens through which I see the rest of my day. He orders my steps. He calms my fears. He quiets the cacophony of voices in my head. He blankets me with His peace. He directs through His Word. He convicts me, lovingly, through His Spirit. He woos me with His love.
I will make my aim clear: I plead with you, this year, to make a daily looking up habit each day. Read through God’s Word. Pray. Without this one resolution, all others will be off kilter. Without True North, all other goals and aspirations will be off course. As Jeff always says:
Sin isn’t just doing bad things. Sin is making good things into ultimate things.
Without looking up to Him first, we will look up to other things and make them ultimate things. We will look up to fear. We will look up to money. We will look up to other people’s opinions. We will look up to fitness and our body image. We will look up to our to-do list. We will look up to our children’s performance. We will look up to the tragedies and sorrows which threaten to crush us daily. We will look up to temporal happiness and fleeting flirtations with success as a source of our daily hope and joy.
Friends, please–look up first. Seek Him first.
And, if you’d let me, I’d love to help. I’m so, so, so, so, so (get that?) excited to share with you a new e-book. I Will Look Up: 31 mornings seeking Him first. It is a simple devotional to help you kick off the first 31 days of 2014 right. It is the very best blog posts of 2013 turned into devotionals with verses and action steps to help you seek Him first. And on January 1st, Lord willing, it’s FREE. So please consider a Looking Up resolution for 2014 and I’d be honored if you’d let me walk with you the next few weeks. Please share, spread the word, and let’s start a trend of seeking Him first.
{Excited to journey with you into 2014. Thanks for reading.}
Merry Quiet Christmas
We’ve had a full year. Very full. So full I just about lost my mind. And so this Christmas we, as a family, have opted to slow. Stop. Enjoy. Worship. I skipped the Christmas cards this year (though I love receiving them–thank you!). I haven’t baked a single Christmas cookie. I have just a few simple gifts for a few special people. The rest, I just trust and know that they will give us grace (smile) and allow us to love on them and gift them at another time. I humbly hope my loved ones know my love throughout the year.
And so, beginning now, we are taking a week of rest. As I type out these few words, Dutch is quietly engrossed in Lego creations, humming to himself, while Heidi sings her own made up Christmas song: “Hark the Harold the Lord has Come! Praise the Lord! The King of our salvation! Holy says the Lord! Worship in the temple!” Jeff is folding laundry. We’re all wearing sweatpants.
I know we’re all in different places. We all have different capacities for busyness. We all have different temperaments. So whether you are social or quiet, introverted or extraverted, a homebody or a social butterfly, I simply invite you this week to live worshipful. Perhaps that means quiet. Perhaps that means singing, reading, loving, serving.
Ask Jesus how He would most love for you to spend His birthday. Perhaps, like the shepherds, we will just be so drawn by the beauty of His glory, that we leave everything behind and just kneel before Him in quiet celebration. Whatever you do this week, live worshipful.
For us, this means a week of quiet–so I will not posting here this week. Friday I’ll be over at Simple Homeschool sharing some thoughts for how to handle dark days. Until then, I am heading offline for some sacred silence, heading into a week of rest and rejoicing, worshipping the newborn King.
And so, until Friday, I wish you all a Merry Quiet Christmas.
{With all my heart, thank you for reading.}
Why isn't anything happening?!
{Remembering this fun trip from last year and re-reminding myself again. I always need to remember this, especially in the areas of our lives where we’re called to obey God and persevere, but we just don’t see any change, any results, any movement. Or perhaps you’re praying for someone else and don’t see anything happening. I pray this story encourages you on the journey…}
~
I hadn’t been on a Ferry since I was a kid. I had memories of standing on an open-deck, leaning over a rail, sea-breeze blowing my hair, looking out at some beautiful Canadian vista. So I was excited for the Ferry over to Whidbey Island.
We thought we’d catch the 4:30pm Ferry, just in time to catch the sunset as we crossed over.
We caught the 6pm Ferry just in time to see nothing. It was pitch dark.
We walked up to the upper-deck, which was all enclosed and resembled the DMV–people looking depressed, sitting around waiting. I sat down and opened my book and waited for the Ferry to move.
But we just sat there. And sat there. When will we take off from shore? I wondered. I could hear the motor whirring, but we never moved. I squinted my eyes to look out the window, but everything was pitch black. We just sat there, never moved.
Then, just when I thought I’d go crazy sitting there, not moving, a voice came over the intercom: “We have arrived at Whidbey Island. Please return to your cars and disembark.”
Huh? We were moving that whole time and I didn’t even know it? How could I not feel it?
Apparently, the Ferry is so big that you can’t even feel it move. Unless you can see out the window, it’s impossible to tell whether or not it’s moving. And since it was dark, I just couldn’t tell.
I thought we were just sitting still, but next thing I knew we were there.
It’s sounds cheesy, but isn’t that true with God too? Lately everywhere I turn I hear stories of how God does more than we can ever imagine, but it takes longer than we expect. As I read The Circle Maker and Rees Howells, Intercessor and watch men like Richard Stearns (who didn’t step into his “calling” until age 47) and realize that so often we feel like nothing is happening. Years go by and we wait and pray and wonder where on earth God is. We pray and wait and look around and wonder, Why aren’t we moving??
But then, just when you lease expect it, a voice alerts you:
You’re there.
It’s done.
All the time we thought we were standing still, God was really moving us right along, without us even knowing it. And if a Ferry is so big that we can’t feel the movement, imagine what it’s like to be traveling “on” God!
He’s so big we sometimes can’t even feel His movement until the whole journey is over.
For me, this just speaks encouragement. When we feel like nothing’s happening, keep trusting, praying, and relying on the God of the unseen.
It might be dark outside, but God is big, and He’s faithfully moving us along.
Trusting Him, with you. Thanks for reading.
My Psalm
I’m completely overwhelmed.
Cough, sniff, sneeze. Cough, Sniff, sneeze.
I could easily sleep for a week straight.
They never stop needing.
Mommy, where are you? Mommy, I need you! Mommy, my nose is stuffy. Mommy, can I have a snack?
I see the people around me needing. Needing love. Needing attention. Needing affection.
Not now.
I can’t. I’m utterly depleted, exhausted.
Empty.
And when I look to the things on my plate, Lord, they all seem from You.
I pray, You lead, we do this Life Thing. It’s awesome, most of the time.
But I’m just done.
I’m waving the white flag.
I don’t care if that means admitting defeat, as long as it means I can sleep.
But then, after my spew of frustration, after my hands are thrown in the air, I look up …
And You are there.
Unchanging, never ending, ever-steady, always there.
Your love never fails.
And even this morning, Lord, in the darkness of my room, the day ahead threatens to overtake me.
My failures, weaknesses, shortcomings are ever before me.
Little one is by my side. She needs stuff. My man is gone. My boy is sick, will soon be awake. Today includes many, many, many things.
But You are with me.
Your love never fails.
And I will hope in your unfailing love.
You are gracious. Gentle. Wise. Kind. You slip your hand down in mine and lead me…
One step at a time.
And so You fill my cup. And I sit here, in the darkness …
Smiling.
Actually smiling! Smiling like a goon! Smiling at the future, the day, with tears brim full in my eyes and a song in my heart and hope in my spirit and How do You do that?
You are amazing.
I love You, but that’s not what’s amazing.
It’s amazing that You love me.
Thank you.
But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. (Psalm 13:5)
(In case you feel a little Psalm-13ish today. 😉 Thanks for reading.)
Psalm 13
How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
2 How long must I take counsel in my soul
and have sorrow in my heart all the day?
How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?
3 Consider and answer me, O Lord my God;
light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death,
4 lest my enemy say, “I have prevailed over him,”
lest my foes rejoice because I am shaken.
5 But I have trusted in your steadfast love;
my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.
6 I will sing to the Lord,
because he has dealt bountifully with me.