Our Word Shop

A Truth Denied

2009-08-11T17:30:00.000-07:00

Life becomes much easier when you realize that what is holding you back is simply a truth denied. The denial often comes because of a loathing of a truth, but when you surrender to belief, though your whole being hates the idea of it being true, there is freedom.

There are many examples of this. A simple, but real one for me is that I am an introvert. My sisters, outgoing and beautiful, amazed me at parties. They could work a room, charging it with energy. I tried for many years to be like them. It never worked. In a room full of people, I felt guilty or silly for wanting to sneak away someplace quiet. I would tell myself, “I should be more social.” Or “I can be more fun.” And so I was stuck in a bad cycle of not believing the truth because I didn’t want something to be true.

Now that I’m older and know myself better, there is an acceptance of who I am. No longer to I have the same drive to change, but can simply know how I was made without feeling bad about it. Believing the truth that I previously denied brought freedom.

End of the Rainbow

2009-07-04T19:31:00.001-07:00

It rained this Fourth of July, deterring us from going to see the fireworks. Disappointed children filled our car as we drove to Blockbuster for a family video night. As we walked out of the double doors, a bright double rainbow greeted us in the sky.

We decided to try to find the end of the band of colors. We almost found the end too. We drove until we found where it looked like it faded into the park near our home. Was it in front of or behind those apartments? Yes, no, well, maybe. The colors paled until you couldn’t tell exactly where it ended. But it looked so close, like you could run out into the field and stand in the fading colors.

It was a once in a lifetime experience; this quiet display of colors standing in stark contrast to the loud, sparkling display of fireworks I’ve seen many a fourth of July. This silent rainbow reminds me of our freedom from fear of destruction by a flood—of a faithful God who will take care of us.

Happy Fourth of July!

Choking the Roses

2009-07-04T18:59:00.000-07:00

The first rose blooms began to open when my mother in law noticed that in the greenery was an enemy camouflaged. The winding weed curled its way from the base of the rosebush around the branches and up to the buds. By the time the bush was ready to bloom, the weed was ready to choke the budding flowers. It was as if someone planned the whole thing.

We tried to unwind the curling vine, pricking ourselves along the way, but it was tedious work. Getting the vine from the roots seemed to be the best strategy, as it killed the nasty weed. Within a few days, the roses bloomed, healthy and strong.

We need to make sure that weeds do not grow up in our lives, wrapping around us, ready to choke at just the moment we’re about to be productive. We need to watch for them, and cut them off at the roots before they become so entwined in our lives that we can’t get untangled.

Going with the Flow

2009-07-03T18:48:00.001-07:00

We do a lot of talking about going with the flow around here. Unmet expectations are met with sad faces and tears, as we try desperately to help our children understand that things won’t always go their way…and that’s ok. Tonight we went to McD to get ice cream and play in the playland. They were cleaning, and the kids weren’t able to play. Small disappointments, but big for them. I hope they learned that we can still have a nice time together even when things don’t turn out like we had hoped.

Tree Climbing

2009-07-02T19:54:00.000-07:00

I had no idea that tree climbing would be the activity of choice this summer. We have now branched out into big kid-ness and it’s disturbing to see my baby hundreds of feet in the air, supported only by the branches of an overgrown bush. I hope the branches are strong, I try not to imagine her falling to the ground, feeling the sensation of the wind being knocked out of you, staring into the sky. I did my share of tree climbing—and falling and am faced with the concrete reality that I am no longer in control of my daughter’s life. I have to trust her; and even more, I need to trust God with her.

Work Apnea

2009-05-26T19:53:00.000-07:00

I’m sitting at the computer working diligently on something and suddenly, I inhale a deep, involuntarily breath and realize that I have been holding my breath. Sometimes it happens on the phone during an intense conversation, sometimes in church when the speaker takes my mind and carries it along a path that is both intriguing and personal. I call this phenomenon “work apnea.”

The sudden breath of oxygen reminds me that no matter how intense life is, I still need the basics to survive. I can put the base needs aside for awhile to concentrate on something intense and important, but eventually I will have to meet those needs. Remember to breathe, take care of the basics. Don’t let work apnea steal away the quality of your life.

Sprouts

2009-05-26T19:45:00.001-07:00

The garden has sprouted. After a couple weeks of humidity and rain, the seeds have germinated (except for the pumpkin) and we have little seedlings. I’m thankful that my garden in in the backyard and in fenced in, even though the fence our gate is attached to rocks back and forth whenever I go in and out of it. The deer and bunnies won’t eat my delicate shoots, like they ate my infant lilac bush and lily in the front yard. Now is the time for protection.

Is there something in your life that is a new shoot that needs protection? Maybe a new habit or attitude you are cultivating? Make sure to keep it safe from the things that may nibble it down to nothing. Be proactive. Pray, ask for prayer, guard it.

Proverbs 4:6 (New International Version)
6 Do not forsake wisdom, and she will protect you; love her, and she will watch over you.

Minimalist or Miniaturist?

2009-05-26T19:31:00.001-07:00

Ok, so this is not a word reclamation, it’s quite simply a popular use of one word and a redefinition of the other.

Minimalist is a word used to describe art, but can also be used to describe a kind of lifestyle where excess is removed from one’s life—excess of stuff or space. This is an attractive concept for many of us who are victims of a culture of excess. We have too much stuff and we spend much of our time maintaining that stuff. More than once a month, I have a mind to pitch most of it, but then I refrain. Aren’t we supposed to Reduce, reuse, and recycle? Throwing stuff out in the trash wouldn’t be responsible greenness. So, I’m stuck with my stuff.

Jon and I have been talking about how we really don’t want to be minimalist…we like our stuff. We would much rather be miniaturist, and by that I don’t mean we would begin painting miniature portraits. Instead, we would rather have all of our stuff be small or take up less space. Have a stereo, but make it a mini i-pod. Have a high-quality tv, but get the 17”. Get smaller furniture, smaller containers of food, smaller everything.

I wish the developers of things kept small in mind, and made a small version of everything. I wish you didn’t have to pay extra to buy the small container of applesauce rather than the large one that will certainly mold before you get to it.

Any other miniaturists out there?

Alice in Wonderland

2009-05-24T20:25:00.000-07:00

I decided to read Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll. I had a copy on my shelf that is so old, it doesn’t even have the copy write page. As I’ve been carefully turning the delicate pages, I’ve been rediscovering the story in a way that Disney or any visual media doesn’t capture. There’s something about reading a book amidst the reality of living; the popping in and out of a story as you live your own. It makes a book part of you in a way the t.v. does not.

Alice is in that wonderful phase of childhood where everything about her world makes sense. She loves to share what she knows and cannot fathom why there would be any confusion on matters of simple understanding. Then she ends up in this dream-like world where nothing makes sense, and that’s sensible to everyone around her.

In many ways, Alice is going through what adolescents go through when their world begins to change. Suddenly, the old rules do not work anymore, and things are not as simple as they once were. Things feel out of control and well, weird.

Teenagers are not the only ones who go through the Alice experience. Whenever our lives change, we may feel like we’re thrown into Wonderland where none of our previous experiences help us on our way to finding normalcy again.

Instead, we may feel like we’ve changed completely. Like when Alice met the Caterpillar on the mushroom:

“Who are you?” said the Caterpillar.

This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, “I—I hardly know, sir, just at present—at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.”

“What do you mean by that?” said the Caterpillar sternly. “Explain yourself!”

"I can’t explain myself, I’m afraid, sir,” said Alice, “because I’m not myself, you see.”

“It isn’t,” said the Caterpillar.

“I’m afraid I can’t put it more clearly, “ Alice replied very politely, “for I can’t understand it myself to begin with; and being so many different sizes in a day is very confusing.” (pg. 48-49 Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.)

It’s good to remember in our Alice moments that it is not just our surroundings that have changed, but we are changing too. Our experiences get inside us and we begin to grow and adapt.

I’m enjoying watching Alice go through her Wonderland experience. Perhaps I will have more to share as she goes along.

Yard Work

2009-05-17T19:12:00.001-07:00

Anyone who has done yard work has probably spent time thinking about how life is full of weeds. They spring up anywhere there is a bare spot and multiply quickly. Unlike the fragile grass that we try to grow, weeds are strong and resilient.

Our lives are full of weeds. Bad habits, patterns and thoughts. It’s easy to grow them and it’s hard to root them out. You have to get to the very bottom of the root to make sure it doesn’t grow back. It’s time consuming and takes great effort to get rid of the weeds.

One mistake we were making with our yard was to assume that getting the weed out was enough. Instead of grass growing there, another weed would quickly take its place because nothing good was put there to grow. Now we know to put some grass seed in wherever we root out a weed so something healthy will take its place.

It’s like that with our lives. We cannot simply stop bad patterns, but need to replace them with good. We need to work hard and fast at them, making sure they don’t multiply by going to seed.

Jesus says in Luke 11, 23"He who is not with me is against me, and he who does not gather with me, scatters.” We need to draw near to Jesus so he can take the place of the weeds in our lives.

In Luke 11, Jesus explains what happens when evil is gotten rid of and nothing takes its place.
24"When an evil[h] spirit comes out of a man, it goes through arid places seeking rest and does not find it. Then it says, 'I will return to the house I left.' 25When it arrives, it finds the house swept clean and put in order. 26Then it goes and takes seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and live there. And the final condition of that man is worse than the first."
Dear Jesus,

Let your truth be the good seed in the yard of my life. Help me to root out the weeds, but don’t leave empty holes to be filled with more weeds. Instead, fill my life with You. I love you. Amen

Spring Storms

2009-04-19T19:46:00.000-07:00

We get most of our winter in the spring. Where it may not snow for weeks November through January, we get amazing coverage in April. But the blankets of snow don’t last long, and are usually preceded and followed by warm temperatures that tempt you to plant too early. Coming from Chicagoland, this does not fit my idea of April. Rain, yes. Snow, no.

Sometimes our lives are like April in Colorado. Change comes on so suddenly that we can hardly believe it’s our life anymore. Then just as suddenly, it settles down into routines and predictability. Most of the time, we don’t expect the storms. The warm, calm weather preceding and following the storms of change may look like a stable job, family, and a good church. The storms may be failing health, a lost job, lost family member or a move.

We may forget to enjoy the mundane life weather while we have it. We long for more, feeling unsatisfied. We want the excitement of change, but when the storms come unannounced, we may not feel happy for the change because it’s out of our control. Spring storms remind us that we are not in control, and that our idea of spring is not what dictates reality.

While it’s not comforting to know that storms will come, it is comforting to realize that storms do not last forever, and they come in seasons. The snow will melt away into May weather and leave us with stability and routine again. We can weather the storms of change and unpredictability because we have a God who cares for us.

Psalm 107:23-32 is a beautiful passage about a storm. http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm%20107:23-32;&version=31;

Psalm 107:29-30 says,
29 He stilled the storm to a whisper;
the waves of the sea were hushed.

30 They were glad when it grew calm,
and he guided them to their desired haven.

Defining "Political Will"

2009-03-31T04:57:00.000-07:00

I just found an excellent definition for "political will." So I blogged about it on my Innovation in Mission Blog. You can check out the entry at: http://innovationinmission.blogspot.com/2009/03/political-will.html

The wind; a musing

2009-02-19T19:39:00.000-08:00

Our house sits in a wind tunnel. A bluff stands to the east of our neighborhood, and rising to the west are the foothills of Pike’s Peak. About a day before any new storm comes in, the wind whips through our street, carrying bags, rugs, and garbage cans along its path. A little boy on our street calls the moaning, “the cows in the trees.”

When the wind begins to moan, I have a fear reaction. I don’t know what I’m actually afraid of: The house blowing away like in the Wizard of Oz? No. Something in the yard blowing into the neighbors yard? Maybe. The fence falling down. Probably. But those things do not justify the amount of fear I feel at the sound of the wind rattling the windows.

It seems so wild, so uncontrollable, so inescapable.

The Bible talks about wind in many different ways.

God sent a wind to recede the waters of the flood.
Genesis 8:1 (NIV), “But God remembered Noah and all the wild animals and the livestock that were with him in the ark, and he sent a wind over the earth, and the waters receded.”

The wind brought the locusts to Egypt.
Exodus 10:13 (NIV) “So Moses stretched out his staff over Egypt, and the LORD made an east wind blow across the land all that day and all that night. By morning the wind had brought the locusts;”

Then it took them away again.
Exodus 10:19 “And the LORD changed the wind to a very strong west wind, which caught up the locusts and carried them into the Red Sea. Not a locust was left anywhere in Egypt.”

The wind described famine…
Genesis 41:27 (NIV) The seven lean, ugly cows that came up afterward are seven years, and so are the seven worthless heads of grain scorched by the east wind: They are seven years of famine.

…and brought food.
Numbers 11:31 (NIV) Now a wind went out from the LORD and drove quail in from the sea. It brought them down all around the camp to about three feet above the ground, as far as a day's walk in any direction.

It brought judgement
Job 1:19 (NIV) “when suddenly a mighty wind swept in from the desert and struck the four corners of the house. It collapsed on them and they are dead, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!"

and insight into God’s character.
1 Kings 19:11-13 (NIV) 11 The LORD said, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by." Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. 12 After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. 13 When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. Then a voice said to him, "What are you doing here, Elijah?"

Wind cannot be caught.
Ecclesiastes 1:14 (NIV) I have seen all the things that are done under the sun; all of them are meaningless, a chasing after the wind.

The wind can destroy.
Matthew 7:25 (NIV) The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock.

The wind truly tests our faith..
Matthew 8:26 (NIV) He replied, "You of little faith, why are you so afraid?" Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm.

Ephesians 4:14 (NIV) Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of men in their deceitful scheming.

James 1:6 (NIV) But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.
It was the wind that made Peter afraid and begin to sink.

Matthew 14:30 (NIV) Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, "Lord, save me!"

It can represent temporality.
Hebrews 1:6-8 (NIV) 6And again, when God brings his firstborn into the world, he says, "Let all God's angels worship him."[a] 7In speaking of the angels he says,"He makes his angels winds, his servants flames of fire."[b] 8But about the Son he says, "Your throne, O God, will last for ever and ever, and righteousness will be the scepter of your kingdom.

Jesus told Nicodemus:
John 3:8 (NIV) The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit."

The wind came at Pentecost
Acts 2:2 (NIV) Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting.

So what can we learn from all these references to wind? Surely it is a powerful force that can be used by God to bring curses or blessing. It can be frightening, but it is always under the control of the Creator. Maybe these thoughts will calm my fears when the cows moo in the trees and my windows bang. If not, at least I know that my Savior can calm the wind outside and in my own soul if I ask Him to.

But along with the comfort, it also brings to me a challenge. Am I willing to let the wind of God's Spirit into my life? Our strong, unpredictable God will not leave me unchanged after he has come through. Am I ready?

A prayer for my household

2009-02-15T19:21:00.000-08:00

Dear Lord,

Thank you so much for all your blessings. We are so thankful for each other and the unique way you put us together individually. We are also amazed at the special blend of personalities that make up our family.

Please draw us close to you. Give us hearts that look to you in the midst of difficult times. Help us to turn our eyes to you when pain, frustration and fear want to stare us in the face. Help us to be honest with you, and to listen to what you are saying to us. Give us hearts to listen and wills to obey.

Lord, give us peace in our home—within ourselves as well as with each other. Let a steadfast peace between us and you be reflected in our relationships together.

Give us a deep and lasting joy that is unshakable.

Protect us God—not only from the affects of the evil in our world, but also from our hearts being captured by what looks good in the world—power, influence, riches, significance, and success.

May our lives bring you glory.

In Jesus name,

Amen

(Mindy Hirst)

To pray for your household go to www.hcjbglobal.org/myprayer

Friendship

2009-02-04T18:59:00.000-08:00

As Valentine's Day approaches, I thought that friendship would be something good to think about, and who better to start our thinking than C.S. Lewis?

"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival." C. S. Lewis

The love of friendship is optional. Nothing forces friendship upon you. It is an investment we make that enhances our lives. It feels good to be a friend and to be befriended. It makes life beautiful to have someone to share life with.

"Eros will have naked bodies; Friendship naked personalities." C. S. Lewis

The love of friendship is intimate. So often, our relationships fall short of friendship. We do not share our naked personalities, but cover them up with the clothes of the soul: friendliness, quips, and smiles make us more bearable to ourselves, and, we think to others. It's scary to show our true selves to others. We're scared we will be rejected. Friendship takes courage to overcome this fear.

"Affection is responsible for nine-tenths of whatever solid and durable happiness there is in our lives." C. S. Lewis

The love of friendship is rewarding. The investment and courage it requires brings indescribable rewards. The happiness we gain from true frienship is a gift. Perhaps friendship is the best Valentine of all--investment, courage and affection from one to another.

The Comfortable Middle

2009-01-17T05:15:00.000-08:00

The Comfortable Middle

My brother and I used to play “hot lava” when we were kids. The furniture was safe, but the floor was hot lava that would surely kill you if you even brushed your toe against its surface. We’d take risks jumping from the couch to the chair and with much trepidation, step over onto the coffee table. It was a great thrill to play, and we certainly developed coordination and imagination in the process. But it was the beginning of the development of something else: the sense that life was like living on a tightrope surrounded by hot lava.

Bringing this sense into my understanding of God, for many years I felt as if I were walking that tightrope, hoping not to lose balance. Balance was only achieved by sticking to the tight middle, staying absolutely to the line.

At first, I stuck to the middle for fear of the lava below. I thought if I messed up, there was no hope. After I began to understand grace and forgiveness, there was then a net of our Savior’s love and forgiveness placed below me in the metaphor. Walking a tightrope causes tremendous anxiety and requires an amazing amount of focus and discipline. It’s an uncomfortable middle you must stay within. You can do it for awhile, but it’s not a sustainable way to live. There’s very little room for creativity or freedom of movement. That’s why we gaze, open-mouthed when we see it performed in the circus and the acrobats make it look as if they were on the floor.

I walked the tightrope for years. Every thought, every decision was balanced on that line. I couldn’t move for fear of losing balance one way or the other. But then I began to understand grace more deeply and the metaphor began to change again. I began to see balance as staying within the safety of our God. This is the comfortable middle.

The world is not a safe place, but we are safe within his protection. It’s more than a safety net under a rope, but a warm, familial safety of home. I think of Psalm 91 and the imagery of being underneath the wings of God in a dangerous world. Yes, there’s sin and danger out there, but we’re not left alone on a high wire with a safety net. We are under the wings of God, safe from what’s “out there.” We are in the “comfortable middle.” Not out of balance, but warm and at peace with our God, in the center of his love and grace.

Psalm 91:1 “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.”

Psalm 91:3-4 “Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge.”

Within this environment, life becomes full of freedom and peace. Creativity is released. Nobody is watching us, waiting for us to fall, but we have a father who is right there, helping us through the process. In this way, staying close is the challenge, not staying balanced. We need to stay under his wings, depending on him for our life—not on ourselves and our own ability.

Walk in the comfortable middle, and experience peace.

Mindy Hirst

Doing Your Best

2009-01-13T12:17:00.001-08:00

Doing Your Best

My mom used to say to me, “All I care about is that you do your best. If that means that you don’t get an A, that’s ok with me.”

Though I took it to heart in some respects, I strove for that A and the affirmation that little letter represented. This was often at the expense of other important things in my life. Only after living a little while, did I realize that there are other important things to strive for: relationships, taking on important responsibilities, gaining experiences.

The school environment is artificial in many ways, for good reason. Outside the classroom, education can get pushed to the background as survival growls in our faces everyday. Parents guard their kids from this monster to equip them with the education that will help them to deal with it in the future.

I’ve always been a sprinter. Fast, efficient, but only in the short run. What I ended up doing was sprinting for the goal I set before me while putting everything else on hold. Essentially I could get the “A” I set out for, but was failing in many other areas of life…usually the ones that had no grading scale. Eventually, I began to see that what I was craving was approval and that though that was an effective motivator for me, it wasn’t the highest goal in life.

My senior year in college, I had a professor who expected much. I was challenged and a not a little intimidated. I took a “no excuses” attitude with myself and vowed to do my absolute best in his classes. But then in my last semester, during work on my final research paper, I got slammed with a terrible illness. No car, I didn’t have the ability to run around to doctors to figure out the problem. I just tried to plod on through the misery. I don’t know how, but I would make it through an entire week of classes just to suffer through hours of violent nausea on the weekends. I’d lay in bed motionless until class on Monday morning, and then drag myself out of bed to face another week.

After six weeks, I knew I had to talk to the professor. The illness was affecting my paper, my attitude, attendance, and I knew I needed help and understanding. I remember meeting with him, literally shaking as I told him the problem. I hated making excuses for my lack of performance. Then he surprised me with his response. I can’t quote him exactly, but this is what I remember, “I wish you would have told me this earlier. I could have worked with you. It’s helpful to know what is going on with someone personally.” That moment, my attitude began to change. I began to allow my life to enter my education and to see them as a united whole. My needs as a person were not to compete with my work, but to be a part of what makes my work mine.

I know it doesn’t work this way in the classroom, but in my life, I see an average of a C in each area as an A overall. I now realize that a grade is no reflection of how valuable a class is to my education. A grade is not a final pronouncement on my worth, but a tool to use to gage progress and effort.

I didn’t graduate with highest honors, but overcoming great obstacles and finishing well made the honors I earned high enough for me. I stood proud of my work, cherishing what I gained from my education. I’ve accessed and added to it everyday since…sometimes getting an A and other times just learning something along the way.

My kids and family became my great equalizer. The constant need for attention and physical care forced me to give up my sprinter’s pace of burst, crash, burst, crash, and adopt a more sustainable model of living. This has forced me to let go of things that I used to strive for. A clean and orderly house when people came to visit, looking like I was put together, helping the people at church when they sent out the guilty vibes and it would help me “gain points.” I had to let them all go. My children’s health and well-being was more important than a perfect house. Getting them to the doctor trumped the junk mail being sorted through.

So now when I wade through the piles of things that need attention to spend energy on the people that need me, I give myself the “A” for life. I’ve earned it by allowing myself to average a “C” in all important areas and take a “Withdraw Fail” out of the electives for now. There will be time for them when the children are bigger.

Buildings

2009-01-12T19:39:00.001-08:00

I talked about plant analogies in my last post, contrasting plants with buildings. Interesting that I just came across this building analogy. I'm going to have to think more about this...

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?book_id=53&chapter=3&version=31

1 Corinthians 3

10By the grace God has given me, I laid a foundation as an expert builder, and someone else is building on it. But each one should be careful how he builds. 11For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ. 12If any man builds on this foundation using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw, 13his work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each man's work. 14If what he has built survives, he will receive his reward. 15If it is burned up, he will suffer loss; he himself will be saved, but only as one escaping through the flames.
16Don't you know that you yourselves are God's temple and that God's Spirit lives in you? 17If anyone destroys God's temple, God will destroy him; for God's temple is sacred, and you are that temple.
18Do not deceive yourselves. If any one of you thinks he is wise by the standards of this age, he should become a "fool" so that he may become wise. 19For the wisdom of this world is foolishness in God's sight. As it is written: "He catches the wise in their craftiness"[a]; 20and again, "The Lord knows that the thoughts of the wise are futile."[b] 21So then, no more boasting about men! All things are yours, 22whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas[c] or the world or life or death or the present or the future—all are yours, 23and you are of Christ, and Christ is of God.

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?book_id=53&chapter=3&version=31

Goal or Gift?

2009-01-12T18:54:00.000-08:00

Goal or Gift?

January always makes us think of new beginnings. The glitter of white snow gives us a sense that the old can be made right again. For me, the fact that it’s my birthday month adds to this sense of beginning.

There are many things we try to start anew. Learning new hobbies or getting back to old ones, reading new books or rereading favorites, investing in people or renewing old friendships. Another new start may be getting to know our Lord better.

So how do we approach these new beginnings? Do we get out our planners, plotting and planning how to rearrange the realities of our lives so we can do the things we feel we must? Do we take control of the situation, trying our best to accomplish more? Do we take the advice of the best minds of our world and begin to be proactive, assertive and focused?

There’s no doubt that the principles of business produce results in many cases. There may be times when these principles are needed, but can this be transferred to our spiritual lives? I think we need to be careful to think it through. Using a worldly principle may not be the best way to grow in our relationship with God.

I find it interesting that Jesus uses so many plant analogies. We don’t know as much about plants and their needs as we used to when people’s lives and the lives of plants were more interconnected. In our world of strip malls and tended landscaping, many of us cannot even keep a houseplant alive.

But I think it’s worth it to try to think about caring for plants and how it’s different from how we approach our goals. For a plant caretaker, a healthy plant is the goal. The fruit comes out of the health.

In our culture, we tend to look for the fruit. The more fruit the better. We want the plant to produce larger, better fruit for longer periods of time. We want to overlook the cycles of plants: times of growth, times of fruit and times of rest.

We like to build things. It’s faster, more to the point and it doesn’t take as much patient care as growing things. Plants on the other hand require patience, and nurturing. It isn’t about forcing a screw into a steel beam, but about providing what something needs to grow. It’s out of our control, and that makes us uncomfortable.

So who is the plant? Jesus talks about being the vine, and us being the branches. We need to bear fruit, but a plant doesn’t bear fruit all year. It’s working at being a healthy branch all year to bear fruit in season. So, just because there’s no visible fruit today, that does not mean it’s a worthless branch.

If we then are the branch, what do we do? The vine draws up the nutrients from the ground, the branches simply abides in the vine. This sort of passive activity disturbs me deep down. I was taught to do something, not to be something. But I am asked to abide, and Jesus says that His Father is the gardener. (John 15:1)

So we are asked to submit, not to plan, to become closer to our God. What a disturbing and freeing realization! I do not have to build my spiritual life like a building, or plan it like a well-executed project. I am called to be a branch that bears fruit, having abided in the vine and been taken care of by the gardener. Our fruitfulness is a gift, not a goal: a gift of health if we allow the gardener to take care of us, and abide in the life-giving vine.

Verses to Ponder

John 15
The Vine and the Branches

1"I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. 2He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes[a] so that it will be even more fruitful. 3You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. 4Remain in me, and I will remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.
5"I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. 6If anyone does not remain in me, he is like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. 7If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be given you. 8This is to my Father's glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.
9"As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. 10If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father's commands and remain in his love. 11I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. 12My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. 13Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.
http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?book_id=50&chapter=15&version=31

A Time to Keep

2008-12-31T13:47:00.000-08:00

Ecclesiastes 3:6b (New International Version)
“…a time to keep and a time to throw away,”

A Time to Keep

I have this urge to purge; to clean out the extra in my life; to make room. What is this inner drive to let go, and why is it emerging just as the old year is coming to a close? This is not a conscious decision. It is not a resolution. It is just an urge that comes at a timely place…the closing of a calendar.

This past year has been so difficult that I am glad to see it go. That is significant because I cannot say that about many years in my life. I tend to mourn the passing of a year…I want to keep the old, resist change, and hold on. But this year is different.

Perhaps it is a natural instinct to make room for the new. Maybe it is my spirit responding to the Holy Spirit’s preparation for me in 2009. I wonder what God has for me next.

But I should be careful not to swing to extremes. I should not simply mourn a year’s passing, or rejoice at the coming of the new, but hold them in both hands, pressing them together, experiencing the process of change. The passing of this year for me is both a time to keep and a time to throw away.

Last year brought such deep change in me—foundational shifts in my thinking, I want to keep the good I have learned, trusting my Lord in a deeper way. Last year also brought much pain, fear and doubt. These I want to throw away.

The new year is uncertain, but it doesn’t have to bring fear. I can hope in God, expecting good, even if it means more pain.

So I throw away:
fear,
condemnation,
bondage,
doubt.

And hold onto:
hope,
forgiveness,
freedom,
certainty

Thank you Lord for 2008. I know you are not bound by our calendars, but I am thankful for the new starts you provide for us. Help me to keep what you’ve taught me this past year, throw away the pain, and look hopefully toward 2009.

I love you,

Mindy

2008 Hirst Christmas Message

2008-12-21T15:29:00.000-08:00

“I want a live animal for Christmas,” Isa said at lunch. Jon answered, “We are not getting any live animals for Christmas this year.” After some discussion about turtles, Isa said, “If God thinks it’s best, when I grow up, my husband is going to work with animals.”

I smiled because it makes me happy to hear that our family’s vocabulary is beginning to be full of phrases like “If God thinks it’s best” and "I hope." (I was sad because I was not-so-secretly hoping for a Christmas puppy!)

We all want control of our lives. We’re told that to be successful, we must become better and better at being in control of our lives. Our language is full of ways to gain control. “If this…then that” “When this…then that.” We think we can understand the cause and effect of things and feel most comfortable when our lives can be explained by simple rules.

But our Christian walk is nothing like our language insists. We are truly out of control. That does not mean that there is no order or control in our lives. It’s a matter of who is in control—our good God.

We can never understand God’s ways. Sometimes he gives us a glimpse of what he is up to, but most of the time, we have to live in a state of uncertain certainty—uncertain as to what will happen, but totally certain of who is in control.

Our lives have been filled with transitions and liminality (see http://ourwordshop.blogspot.com/2008/01/living-in-liminality.html). We live in the in-between…in a process of growth, never arriving, but always traveling. I have been concerned that our kids may grow up with a sense of insecurity. Instead, they are developing a sense of hope. When the kids ask about their school next year we say, “We’re still thinking and praying about it.” When our little girl answers “I hope I can go to my school next year,” We pray she is learning more than a fleeting hope, but a true, strong hope that will help her face this world.

According to the Strong’s Concordance, “Hope expects good" while “Fear expects evil.” (Strong’s Concordance, 1679, 1680) What a wonderful freedom to know that to drive out fear, we can hope by expecting good. How many times do we take uncertainty and respond by assuming the worst? Instead, we can hope in an amazing God that is in control of everything and can make good out of evil.

This year as you face the uncertainty in your life, may God help you to expect good. Many blessings as you experience 2009.

Jon and Mindy Hirst

News:
Jon and Mindy: Working on our new book which is due out early 2009. Taking care of the munchkin-heads. Making fires and talking.

Jon: Meetings, meetings, meetings. Blogging and Twittering. Trips to State Parks on the weekends.

Mindy: A delightful garden. Walking to the bus stop. Hanging out with Emi. Writing Beyond the Call scripts. Seeing old friends that come through Colorado.

Isa: 2nd grade, reading, writing and telling time. Mealworms and homework. Neighborhood friends. “Yeah-huh” and “No clue”

Adin: Kindergarten, alphabet sounds. Songs and recess. Riding the bus. “You know…” "What's tomorrow gonna be?"

Emi: Walking the neighbor’s dog home from the bus stop. Videos. Walks to the park. Helping Mommy with chores and errands. “I do it myself” “I got work-a-do”

Prayer Requests: Wisdom that we make good decisions for our kids’ education and health. The ability to hope moment by moment in our good God.

Generosity--small but important gifts

2008-12-17T12:46:00.000-08:00

Generosity--small but important gifts

Luke 21 The Widow's Offering
1As he looked up, Jesus saw the rich putting their gifts into the temple treasury. 2He also saw a poor widow put in two very small copper coins.[a] 3"I tell you the truth," he said, "this poor widow has put in more than all the others. 4All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on."

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke%2021;&version=31

When I’ve read this story in the past, I’ve had a difficult time identifying with the woman in the story. After all, I am not a widow; I don’t live in the time of Jesus, and like the rich people in the story, I have plenty to take care of my needs. So what am I to learn from this woman’s incredible generosity?

I think what’s held me back from understanding this story personally is that I take the currency of coins too literally. Money is only one way God provides for us. We also have time, energy, health, intellect, enthusiasm and ideas—and these are just a few examples. God provides for us on many levels, but like money, not all of us have the same amount.

That’s ok. Jesus points out that just because the woman’s coins were a small gift, they were everything to her. The generosity of the woman was not based on amount, but on heart.

But though I have much, I am poor—energy-poor that is. I’ve always been a low-energy person, but this last year has been worse than usual. I find myself carefully guarding my energy since I “crashed” this spring. Simple things are difficult: getting to church, making phone calls, just being with people. I budget my energy like a small checking account, carefully monitoring it so I don’t go in the red…because going in the red is painful, and there’s a high price to be paid.

The guarding of my energy is like the hoarding of money that a poor widow might be tempted to do. But here in Scripture, Jesus witnessed a poor widow giving her all. It didn’t look like much…just two little coins. It wouldn’t seem to make much of a difference in the finances of the temple, but she gave to God generously. In the same way, my efforts to live to honor God may look frail and feeble. It may seem like I have little impact at all. But Jesus encouraged her efforts.

One thing I notice is that she didn’t give what she didn’t have…but she gave her all. I don’t need to feel bad that my gift is not as large as other people’s gifts. Maybe I only have one phone call in me today. The question is, will I use that energy for what God wants, or for what I want? Will I give it to the temple or to someone else?

What are you poor in today? How can you be generous with what you have in that area? How can you be sure you are giving to God and not to what you or others want?

Lord, give me a generous heart to give you my all. Give me wisdom to see what I have to give and not give more than belongs to me. Reveal to me how you want me to use my energy today and help me be a good steward of all you graciously provide. I love you.

Get up!

2008-11-02T19:38:00.000-08:00

I was once a part of a small table of strong women; confident, organized and tough. Being the sensitive one of the bunch, if I would ask for advice about what to do when things got hard, they would reply with an “up” phrase. “Buck up” and “Suck it up” being the two that still ring in my head. I never knew what practical steps to take to accomplish this. It seems I was to draw from within myself the strength to make the hard things easy, not allowing them to drive me into the wall.

Even kind-intentioned phrases like “cheer up” or “perk up” echo with the same self-ability and resolve. I’m fed up with “up” phrases. They don’t work and are discouraging. But why? I think it is because they remind us that we are finite. Deep down we all know that our strength may run out, that the resources of our networks can be depleted, and we may be left weak and limp, unable to face the daily challenges before us. We know that life is more than we can handle, but don’t like to admit it. So we continue to believe we can push our way through by sheer force of will.

I think of the paralyzed man at Bethesda, waiting to get into the pool. Jesus asked him, "Do you want to get well?" (John 5:6 NIV) Interestingly, after the man explained his dilemma, Jesus responded with an “up” phrase of his own. "Get up! Pick up your mat and walk." At once the man was cured; he picked up his mat and walked.” (Jon 5:8-9)

Why then does Christ’s “up” phrase not bother me? I believe it’s because there was power and healing in Jesus’ words. The man was not to pick himself up with the strength he had left from 38 years of waiting to be healed. The man received healing first—power from outside himself, and then he obeyed. He knew he needed help, and humbly admitted that need, “Sir," the invalid replied, "I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me." (John 5:7 NIV)

How glad I am that Jesus came to help this man! It reminds me that His power is available to me also. So, now I have an encouraging “up” phrase to remember when things are hard. I can “Get up!” receiving the power from my Savior that will help me face the trials of life.

Living Without Regret

2008-09-29T20:29:00.000-07:00

“See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the basic principles of this world rather than on Christ.” Colossians 2:8 (New International Version)

Choices, choices, choices. They line the grocery store shelves, flash at us in commercials, and gleam on billboard signs along the road. Humans have always had to deal with choices, but they are multiplying at an incredible speed. I imagine a path in the forest. There have always been forks in the road, but we no longer see a single division in the path. More, as my friend described it, we see “a labyrinth of complexity.”

With each choice, there is the danger of regret. The “what if” haunts us down the path and we wonder as the path splits again if we should have taken the other way. Like a child who tries to read the “make your own choices” book in a hundred different ways to see the different endings, we try to keep all our doors open, not living life at all. We try to avoid regret by making all the “right” choices. I wonder if this is an example of falling into “hollow and deceptive philosophy” (Col 2:8). It makes sense, it sounds right, but to the Christian something doesn’t “feel” right.

I’m done with regret. Life is not a fork in the path, nor is it a labyrinth of complexity—all that is a mirage. It is a grand lie that our minds create when we think we are in charge. When we let the false lens fall away from our eyes, we see that there really is only one way to go. True regret only results when we don’t follow the One who can show us where to go. He may not use a path at all, but take us through the brush and over creeks to teach us what He wants us to learn.

To a Christian, this rings true. One path, one way. We know Who is the way, but we have not learned to follow Him. When we do learn, making a choice will be just another step following our Lord. The haunting questions of “what if” will not linger down the road because the road not taken is not the road for us.

Dear Lord, help me learn to follow you one step at a time. Make joy the spring in my step, faith the strength in my legs, and love the determination in my devotion to You. I love you.

Watchfulness and thankfulness

2008-09-29T19:52:00.000-07:00

“Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful.” Colossians 4:2

Has something ever happened that you immediately know is from God? It seems out of the blue…like He just knew what you needed without you even telling Him. On the other hand, sometimes a thing will happen in my life, and I will shrug my shoulders and pocket the blessing without thinking about Who was behind it. When I swerve to avoid a car accident, I breathe a sigh of relief, thinking of the inevitability of statistics, being glad it wasn’t my turn to fill the insurance tables.

My prayers are as careless as my inventory of blessings. I pray, meaning it at the moment, and forgetting it the next. The answer comes, but I have not been watchful, and I think to myself, “Why wasn’t I just more patient? If I had known this was going to happen a week ago, I could have just waited without worrying.”

What I don’t take into account is that my prayers and the prayers of others are having an impact on those blessings. If I hadn’t prayed, would God have moved?

I wonder, how much glory has God received for those forgotten answers? My heart is sad for the multitude of loving gestures from my Father that have gone unthanked. How many thank you’s have been stolen away by my unrealized fatalism? Still more have been swiped by a subtle sense of entitlement to all that is good.

But regret is not where God wants us to live. Little children do not always thank their parents for a trip to McDonald’s, a Buzz Lightyear blanket or a “one more kiss” good-night. They expect it. Only with maturity do they grow to appreciate the many sleepless nights or ER runs endured by their parents with seemingly endless patience.

Up until now in my life, I have not been watchful, and as a result, not been as thankful to my God as I want to be in the future. I was at a point where I did not even see that I needed to be aware of the answers to prayer all around me. I am in a process. I am growing up. I will try again tomorrow, and reflect on my life in a new light.

God, thank you for your eternal provision. Thank you that you remember my prayers, even when I do not remember I mumbled them in the busyness of my life. Teach me to be watchful. Please know how grateful I am for the blessings that I see and especially for the ones I cannot.

Amen.

Ladybug

2008-06-12T19:21:00.000-07:00

Ladybug

Little ladybug,
content to creep along the grass
growing tall with springtime seed.
The cool sprinkler rain
beading on your spotted wings.

The curve of your back
stark red against the green;
like an apple
swinging in the wind
its surface broken only by perfect black spots.

I wonder at your slow journey;
quiet, deliberate,
exploring each blade,
content to feel the gentle rocking.

Aspen leaves dance in a flicker of yellow and green
Their rushing like water falling over stones.
Still you creep on
without wonder at the chaos around you;
unaffected by my internal pressure.

A puff of lawn mower smoke,
the ticking of a garden hose,
the smell of an approaching storm,
cannot dampen your peace.

Look up!
A pair of large grey eyes
carefully watches your journey
from a patch of Colorado blue.

My heart grows still and wild at once.
Will the quiet end?
Will you fly away this moment
or the next?

I capture joy,
snapping pictures like a frantic mother
trying to catch a fleeting birthday smile
flashing across a smudged face,
hoping to save it in her heart forever.

Our intersecting journeys
will diverge.
Our fragile connection
limited by a clock
you cannot feel.

Fly away ladybug, fly
and leave me with this timeful joy,
stolen from a frantic life.
Or rather, have you just delivered
a gift from our Creator?

Mindy Hirst
June 12, 2008

"Because I love you..."

2008-05-15T16:31:00.000-07:00

“Because I love you…”

I am learning not to spend so much of my time asking the “why” questions of life. Since many of my questions are posed as a mask to my distrust of God, the answers are not likely the most important ones to ask. So many times, I put the question up as a guard to my heart, making an ultimatum that feels impossible to fulfill. But God can do the impossible.

As I spend more of my life getting to know the “who” of God, the One who knows the answers to all my “why’s,” I begin to believe that He will tell me what I need to know in due time. My mask of questions fall away to reveal the true nature of my heart, and I am free to accept His healing of my pride, fear, and self-righteousness.

In this journey of relationship, new questions spring out from my bond with Him through our many experiences together. He knows my true and intimate story. As He and I write the story of my life day by day, I learn more and more of Him. No longer is my relationship based on the satisfactory answers to my questions, but on His love. Trust is not natural for me, but I can feel it growing.

For so long I have asked these “why” questions, and resigned myself to “putting them on a shelf,” as my mom always described it. I never understood why God, who knows all things, would not just give me the answers and settle my heart. But recently there is an answer that keeps ringing in my heart, quiet and steady. It is, “Because I love you.” My mind asks, “but why—“ and I hear “because I love you.”

It may not be the answer for which I am looking. At times, I may feel anger at this seemingly unfair answer. But the answer remains “because I love you.”

A parent does not always answer a child in the way that she wants. His love for her is not in question, nor is His ability to know. God loves me. God knows the reasons for all things. He also knows what and when I should learn. So as He and I write our story together, I will accept the answers He gives to the questions He chooses.

Jesus, help me not to base my relationship with you on the answers to my questions. Instead, let my questions spring out from my bond with You as my Savior.

Living in Liminality

2008-01-31T15:41:00.000-08:00

Our worldview is shaped in part by our language, which is shaped by the worldview of its speakers. We are trained from early on to see things in the positive, the foreground, and the defined. But then, the world is not as clear-cut in practice as it is in our language. There is this time of liminality permeating our lives, filling in the cracks between the moments we strive for.

We are so focused away from these moments between things, that the word we have to describe it is not commonly used.

Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1)
lim•i•nal•i•ty
noun Anthropology.
the transitional period or phase of a rite of passage, during which the participant lacks social status or rank, remains anonymous, shows obedience and humility, and follows prescribed forms of conduct, dress, etc.
________________________________________
[Origin: < L līmin- (s. of līmen) threshold + -AL1 + -ITY ]

Wikipedia uses the example of graduation to describe liminality. “A period during which one is ‘betwixt and between’, ‘neither here nor there’. When the ceremony is in progress, the participants are no longer students but neither are they yet graduates. This is the distinctive character of liminality."

Children live in a perpetual state of liminality. Constantly changing, they barely finish one stage when they transition into the next. We all have witnessed how quickly those awkward toddler steps blend into the junior high years and suddenly it feels as if that small child is in that liminal moment of graduation. As joyful as it is, this process is deeply disturbing to us. It goes against our need to be somewhere.

Most children I know are most uncomfortable between 4-6pm...the time between day and night. Even as infants they fuss as the sun begins to set. Whether they are responding to the discomfort of the adults in the house, or are already forming a worldview that is uncomfortable with liminality (or both), I don't know. In any case, I have many times wished for the time to pass more quickly.

We are taught in art classes to not only look to the foreground, but to purposefully look for the negative space. By training our eye to see the space around something, we actually see the object better. I find it humorous that we call it “negative” space. It shows how deep down it disturbs us. Once we train our eyes to see it, we begin to see the space around everything. In the same way, once we begin to think about liminality, we begin to see it as a constant presence in our lives.

A good family friend always had a framed picture of spots on her wall. She insisted that it was a picture of Jesus, but no matter how much I tried, all I saw was spots. Then, suddenly one day, there He was! Like the picture of spots that suddenly changes into the face of Christ, we can never see the picture of our world the same again.

Liminality is everywhere. Once we are trained to see it, we see it in every moment of our lives. Watching the second hand on a clock, there is a moment when we almost hold our breath, waiting for the hand to tick once again. It is in that moment that we experience liminality. If we're not careful, we might miss it. Focusing on the moment the hand ticks gives us a sense of accomplishment. In a flash, that moment in between vanishes, and we live our lives missing the beauty of the liminal...rushing from one tick in life to the next.

Growth and change are processes, and bring us through countless liminal moments. Work is full of liminality. And it makes us uncomfortable. We crave those moments of being in the middle of something defined. We complain about all the "wasted time" in our lives. Grocery store lines, the time between jobs, that moment when the call is being connected, even the moment when the cookies aren’t quite done or the laundry not quite dry are all moments between defined categories.

The power of learning to live with liminality is that it brings a deeper sense of process to what we do. Our minds are more comfortable with something that has a name, and we can label the in between as liminal. We begin to see it not as the enemy to progress, but as a necessary ingredient to what we’re trying to accomplish. Just as a painting is more beautiful when the negative space is well-thought; living times of liminality well helps us begin to see a depth and beauty in our lives we might not have before. God works in the whole picture of our lives, not just the foreground. What a gift to find that we can allow God to work in the liminal parts of our lives too.

Sources:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liminality
http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/liminality

A Gift of 35 Years

2008-01-24T13:00:00.000-08:00

Late bloomer describes my development—not just in how I grew in stature, but in how I’ve developed on all levels. Many people may be further down life’s road this many birthday’s into the journey, but God put me together to meander, not to sprint. So, at the risk of revealing just how long its taken me to grow up, I want to describe what God’s birthday gift of 35 years means to me.

Freedom. God has given me a deep sense of belonging. My identity is no longer in making others happy. I can love other people, not to fulfill my need to be loved and accepted, but because I genuinely love and care for them. This freedom is helping me become more and more honest with myself and others, and it feels good!

Beauty. God has made me unique and lovely. I am more beautiful than ever. Though I may leave youth behind, I have learned to give myself more space and be more forgiving of my weaknesses. I don’t try to measure up to what other people think is beautiful, but have learned to appreciate the unique way God put me together. This is helping me be more confident, which is an attractive quality I didn’t have when I was younger.

Trust. I have experienced God’s character. I have seen God work in my life, and am confident He will continue in the future. He has loved me, and I trust He will continue to love me always.

Contentment. God has always provided my outward and inward needs. When I allow him to take care of me, he always does, and this gives me a deep sense of contentment. I do not have to grasp or strive for things, because I know his provision is deep and wide and ever-expansive.

Peace. God has always covered me with his wings (Psalm 91). There have been difficult things outside his strong and downy protection, but he was always sufficient. For me, this is the gift of peace in the sun and storms.

Joy. When emotions cast their shadow, the light of joy still shines beneath. I have joy in the freedom of belonging; joy in the beauty of creation; joy in the trustworthiness of our Creator; joy and contentment in provision; joy to have peace in any weather; joy in the longing and hope for what is to come.

Thankfulness. All of this makes me deeply thankful. I think this is why I have the wonderful joy of looking forward to my birthday each January. No matter what happens, or what I do on my special day, God gives me a deep sense of thankfulness and love. He made me and chose to put me on this earth at this exact time in history. I can’t help but smile thinking about it.

Longing. Looking back makes me look forward, and I long for what is to come. It’s not only the anticipation for more time on this great earth, but for what comes after. If the fallen state of this planet still holds so much beauty and good, what must the perfection of heaven be like?

Hope. Walking through this life, and the challenges, with God’s provision, gives me hope for the next phase of life, and the next and the next. The familiar fear that used to paralyze me at each life change and challenge is fading, and is being replaced by hope in God’s character.

I still have a long way to go, but looking back and seeing how much I’ve grown is encouraging. Like a child standing tall with his back to the wall, marking his height with a pencil, I feel proud to see the graphite mark this year, tracking my growth. And with the blowing out of the candles, I open these gifts from God: freedom, beauty, trust, contentment, peace, joy, thankfulness, longing, and hope.

Is Marketing Manipulation or Good Communication?

2008-01-21T19:11:00.000-08:00

It's easy to package things together and not be able to separate them. In my house, Fridays go with pizza, but it doesn’t have to be this way. Pizza can exist without Friday and the reverse, but it's hard to imagine.

This is the danger with stereotypes. Not all characteristics fit all the people. The same dilemma exists with values and behaviors. If we hold a certain value, we tend to lump behaviors, style and all sorts of things when we think about following that value. But things change over time, and every once in awhile, we need to do a little reorganizing. Something that was useful at one time, may no longer serve a purpose. Realizing this can free us to separate motive with style.

This principle can be applied to communication. Many may disagree, but there is no neutral communication. Communication comes out of the hearts of people. It is the world interpreted through people and re-sent out, then assimilated through another individual. Emotions, thought, experience all go into the sending and receiving. So it is important for Christians to constantly be aware of their heart when communicating. I think we see this message in Proverbs 10:19.

"When words are many, sin is not absent,
but he who holds his tongue is wise." (NIV)

To stop and think is wise. But at the same time, there are places in the scripture that call us to speak. So, the goal isn’t to be quiet always, just to speak what and when we should.

Psalm 37:30 says, "The mouth of the righteous man utters wisdom, and his tongue speaks what is just." (NIV)

In Christian work, we tend to lump the need to “market” in missions and churches with guilt over materialism and other values we try to avoid. Marketing communications has so changed our way of giving and receiving information, that the two should no longer be tied together. People have a hard time receiving a message if it is not packaged in a way they have been trained to receive it.

While it is good for a church or mission to commit to the principles of non-manipulation and trusting God, it is not accurate to assume that any communication that smells of marketing would taint that commitment. To do so is a decision to not communicate effectively—especially to those who do not know a time where messages were not packaged. We need to think through ways that we can connect with people to communicate our needs while still trusting God.

It isn’t easy to communicate with a pure heart when the world has trained us all to receive messages in the style of sales and marketing, but it isn’t wise to stop communicating because we do not like how our culture and language have changed.

Precipice

2007-11-19T12:30:00.000-08:00

Standing on the Precipice
I teeter
My head floating up
I catch my footing
As red pebbles slip
Sailing down, down
Like a dream
To the bottom
From which I climbed

I feel drawn into the canyon
My body dizzy and weak
I want to relax and fall
With the pebbles
It’s easier than pulling away
Fighting the cold zing of wind
Drying the sweat on my spine
And calling me below

Hair whipping my face
I look up to see streams of light
Piercing clouds heavy with liquid
Grey and blue against an orange sky
It’s been a long day climbing since dawn

I breathe cold air into my lungs
Muscles aching, I could not have climbed anymore
Could not fight the rocky canyon
I look horrified at the depths from which I came

Suddenly, a steady wind blows up
A warm breath washing over me
Sustaining wind
I know I will not fall.

Mommy Marketing

2007-11-01T07:09:00.001-07:00

Mommy Marketing

We are strong proponents of Mommy Marketing in our home. My kids need a “master of the obvious” to state the wonderful truths of mom’s virtues on a regular basis. When they ask for juice and I give it to them, I like to say every once in a while, “There you go, here’s your juice. Don’t you have the most wonderful Mommy in the world? She must really love you to give you that juice!” This probably fits within the need for parents to help kids draw the categories of their world.

As an adult, we feel like only unsolicited compliments matter; that if we fish for them, we have somehow nullified their validity. But my kids, and I suspect many kids, weren’t born knowing how to share their love verbally with others. In fact, sometimes I think that developmental stage where babies do not distinguish between themselves and their mother lingers on long into childhood. Mom has always been there and it is impossible to imagine life without her. She always gets my juice, reminds me to pick up my toys, gives me a bath, etc. So, expecting gratitude without pointing out the fact that mom exists is unrealistic.

So, we market mommy around here, hoping to teach our kids how to feel and show gratitude, love and appreciation, not to mention boosting Mom’s mood which seems to help the rest of the family tremendously!

Sustainable

2007-10-30T16:59:00.000-07:00

Sustainable, a word reclamation

The word reclamation here is “Sustainable.” Like many popular words, you can hear this word sprinkled around the meeting table, rolling off silk ties swung around starched shirts. The project needs to be sustainable. Is it sustainable? How do we make it sustainable?

Buzz words generate excitement, but users of them don’t always have a crisp understanding of what they mean. Take the word sustainable. It may sound wise to talk about sustainability. It may be convenient to label a new idea unsustainable if we don’t like it. But let’s think through this idea of sustainability and what it means.

The American Heritage Dictionary defines sustain as:

sus·tain
tr.v. sus·tained, sus·tain·ing, sus·tains
1. To keep in existence; maintain.
2. To supply with necessities or nourishment; provide for.
3. To support from below; keep from falling or sinking; prop.
4. To support the spirits, vitality, or resolution of; encourage.
5. To bear up under; withstand: can't sustain the blistering heat.
6. To experience or suffer: sustained a fatal injury.
7. To affirm the validity of: The judge has sustained the prosecutor's objection.
8. To prove or corroborate; confirm.
9. To keep up (a joke or assumed role, for example) competently. [Middle English sustenen, from Old French sustenir, from Latin sustinēre : sub-, from below; see sub- + tenēre, to hold; see ten- in Indo-European roots.] sus·tain'a·bil'i·ty n., sus·tain'a·ble adj., sus·tain'er n., sus·tain'ment n.

Most of the time when we use the word sustainable, we actually mean self-sustainable, our goal being to make sure there is a plan for X Project to continue on long term without the support or intervention of the creator. We use it to answer in the affirmative the question, “When I am gone, will this continue on?” But the word in itself means to maintain, nourish, and support something. Wanting something to be self-sustainable is wanting it to maintain, nourish and support itself. I wonder, how many things in our world can nourish themselves? We live in families and communities because we need each other. Sustaining something is part of our nature. So why is independence the measure of success? I wonder if it would be better to think in terms of healthy interdependence rather than independence.

But there is wisdom in planning for the future. The desire to have something go on beyond our direct influence is good and healthy when it is within Gods will and direction. But if we determine our success solely by how long something survives, it may be echoing our desire for legacy and the ability to live on despite our finiteness. These desires cannot be met in our work, but only through the infinite God who supplies our legacy through our obedience to Him. When we find these personal needs met, we are freed to see clearly enough to let go of projects that may have outlived their usefulness.

The common sentiment when we talk about sustainability is to ask, “Can man sustain whatever project we are talking about?” And “Can we train, organize, and manage the endeavor in order to turn over responsibility to someone who can sustain it after we are no longer working on it?” The reality is, nothing is sustainable outside of God. Man is finite and anything that begins and ends with man is temporal. It may be helpful to talk in terms of degrees of sustainability asking, “How finite is my project?” or “How long of an existence would be considered success in this endeavor?”

To look to sustainability as the ultimate measure of success for something is probably not wisdom. If we did, we may forgo efforts that God would have us try. To feed a hungry person is not sustainable, but it does show God’s love. Jesus encouraged us to help the poor, and to build our legacy in Heaven (Luke 12:33). Helping the widow and the fatherless does not restore their family, but it does bring our Lord glory when it’s in obedience to Him. We need to be careful not to put aside projects God would have us do because we don’t see them as sustainable.

Many times a buzzword pops up to answer a void that exists. Perhaps we didn’t think enough about sustainability in the past and now in the excitement of a new and helpful concept, we have swung to use it too heavily when measuring success and judging effectiveness. We need to find a balance between sustainable and self-sustainable, and evaluate the motives behind our value for sustainability by looking to God for His direction in all our endeavors.

Verses to Ponder
Isaiah 44:6 (New International Version)
6 "This is what the LORD says— Israel's King and Redeemer, the LORD Almighty: I am the first and I am the last; apart from me there is no God.

Psalm 55:22 (New International Version)
22 Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous fall.

Psalm 146:9 (New International Version)
9 The LORD watches over the alien and sustains the fatherless and the widow, but he frustrates the ways of the wicked.

John 12:8 (New International Version)
8You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me."

James 1:27 (New International Version)
27Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.

Nehemiah 13:14
14 Remember me for this, O my God, and do not blot out what I have so faithfully done for the house of my God and its services.

Psalm 103:14 (New International Version)
14 for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust.

Psalm 112:6 (New International Version)
6 Surely he will never be shaken; a righteous man will be remembered forever.

Ecclesiastes 1:11 (New International Version)
11 There is no remembrance of men of old, and even those who are yet to come will not be remembered by those who follow.

Mark 14:7 (New International Version)
7The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me.

Luke 12:33 (New International Version)
33Sell your possessions and give to the poor. Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will not be exhausted, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys.

Sources
Biblegateway.com
Dictionary.com
Etymonline.com

American Heritage Dictionary - Cite This Source - Share This
sus·tain (sə-stān') Pronunciation Key tr.v. sus·tained, sus·tain·ing, sus·tains
10. To keep in existence; maintain.
11. To supply with necessities or nourishment; provide for.
12. To support from below; keep from falling or sinking; prop.
13. To support the spirits, vitality, or resolution of; encourage.
14. To bear up under; withstand: can't sustain the blistering heat.
15. To experience or suffer: sustained a fatal injury.
16. To affirm the validity of: The judge has sustained the prosecutor's objection.
17. To prove or corroborate; confirm.
18. To keep up (a joke or assumed role, for example) competently. [Middle English sustenen, from Old French sustenir, from Latin sustinēre : sub-, from below; see sub- + tenēre, to hold; see ten- in Indo-European roots.] sus·tain'a·bil'i·ty n., sus·tain'a·ble adj., sus·tain'er n., sus·tain'ment n.
(Download Now or Buy the Book)
The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth EditionCopyright © 2006 by Houghton Mifflin Company.Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.

Etymology, http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?term=sustain
sustain
c.1290, from O.Fr. sustenir "hold up, endure," from L. sustinere "hold up, support, endure," from sub "up from below" + tenere "to hold" (see tenet). Sustainable growth is recorded from 1965.

Refracted Messages

2007-10-30T13:34:00.000-07:00

Refracted Messages

When I was a kid, I was fascinated with prisms. I’d look for prisms in everyday life; a beveled glass window, a drinking glass, a shard from a lamp shade, or a raindrop on a flower petal. I loved to create a circular rainbow while watering the tomato plants with the garden hose. My prized possession was a prism I bought at the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago with my allowance.

Sixth grade science tells us that white light is made up of many colors that can be broken apart using any sort of prism. When the light is bent, our eye receives only part of the truth within the light. What comes to our eye is, in fact, truth, but it’s only a part of the whole.

In communication, a refracted beam of light can represent a message that has been bent. This can be through sarcasm, humor, sending it through another person, phrasing a command in the form of a question, and the list goes on and on. Humans are experts at refracting their messages because they’re smart and clever and extremely adept at reducing pain. Why pain? Because truth hurts. It’s more pleasant to look at a rainbow than to look straight into the intense white light of an unbroken message. It is painful to hear what someone really thinks about you. But refracting a message also makes it difficult on the receiver whose interpretation of the message can be way off. In addition, it is difficult to respond to a refracted message. This means that progress on a difficult issue is nearly impossible.

Suppose my young daughter comes down the stairs Sunday morning wearing 5 clashing colors. I want to teach her how to coordinate colors and save her from certain teasing, but I don't want to hurt her feelings. So, I exclaim, “You look like a rainbow jello!” My daughter likes rainbow jello and so feels like this may be a compliment. However, she picks up on the tone of the comment and wonders at the incongruity, “Does this mean I look pretty like the rainbow jello or does it mean I look silly and should change my clothes?” In the end, the result of the wrong interpretation of the refracted message can be more painful than the "straight truth" that says, "Your clothes don't match," as the child has no way of responding or confirming whether what they interpreted is even close to the intended message.

We learn to refract our messages so early on that we do it almost without thinking. We even call it “tact.” To counter the effects, then, it takes a lot love and extra effort to keep communication clear and open. The child needs to learn how to say, “Mommy, does that mean you like my clothes?” instead of assuming she understands and either becomes concerned about picking out her own clothes or thinks that clashing colors are part of an acceptable wardrobe. When the messages come as sarcasm or humor, strategies at responding to them become a little trickier. But having tools to respond is an important life-skill to learn.

NOTE: I personally think the rainbow jello look is cute!

Yuck, Yuck, Yuck

2007-10-15T19:01:00.000-07:00

Yuck Yuck Yuck

A couple weeks ago, I went in to get the little one out of the crib after naptime, and instead of her usual smile and squeal of excitement at my arrival, I got an outstretched hand, a crinkled nose and a clear, “Yuck!” From the smell in the room, I knew she had a problem during naptime, and even though we cleaned it up with surprisingly little effort, she was still horrified. The entire rest of the afternoon, everything was “Yuck!” From truly disgusting things like poop in the yard, to a benign scrap of paper on the floor, she exclaimed with the same intonation, “Yuck!”

I began to have visions of her growing up to be obsessed with clean, everything in rows and perfectly organized, not being able to tolerate the everyday imperfections of our world. I decided, “We need to draw this ‘Yuck’ category very tightly.” However, in spite of my concerted efforts to downplay her exclamations, explaining that, no, that wasn’t yuck, it was just this or that, she would have none of it. She had decided what yuck was, enjoyed the drama of it, and continued her word-play with disgusted pleasure.

I think redrawing this category is going to take quite a bit of time, effort and patience.

For more on drawing categories for kids, see http://ourwordshop.blogspot.com/2007/10/line-drawings-drawing-categories-for.html

Line Drawings

2007-10-12T18:40:00.000-07:00

Line Drawings; Drawing Categories for Kids

One of the most important things we provide for the kids in our lives are line drawings superimposed on the paintings of their lives. We accentuate the picture of their world with dark ink, pointing out the important things to us personally, and to the culture the child has been born into.

When they are born, a child’s little brain receives stimuli and messages that they are just beginning to learn to process. Through trial and error, they learn to make sense of the world by interacting with their environment and with the people around them.

It’s amazing to watch and participate in. The child in the stroller watches the world go by and observes with wide open eyes and ears. She sees a neighbor wave at Mom. Mom waves back. Then she sees a great palm tree hand waving in the wind. She lifts her little hand and waves. But Mom doesn’t wave. “That’s a tree,” she says. “The tree branch looks like it’s waving at us in the wind.”

The child learns that we wave at people, but we don’t wave at trees. Mom is accentuating the world her child sees with values and customs. The child is learning what is important. As good realists, we believe the world itself hasn’t changed, but how the child interacts with it and sees it has changed.

When my first was born, I had no idea how her personality was going to change my world. A shy person by nature, I prefer to blend into the walls, but when my little one got around people, she began to shine. Heads turned, the barametric pressure of the room actually changed, and there was no hiding at a party.

At first I used to shush and hush her…bring extra toys to try to keep her quiet and settled. Over time it was a useless exercise. She was who she was, and I began to think to myself, “Why do I think it’s better to be quiet and unobtrusive in public? There is absolutely nothing wrong with letting her be the little extrovert that she is!” I began to separate my idea of politeness from the personality traits of quietness and shyness. My hope is that I have been teaching her politeness without squelching her personality.

Most of the line drawings we create for our kids are just an outpouring of our internal values and culture. They are almost invisible to us. But it’s worth thinking about and evaluating the categories (line drawings) we draw for them as we notice them because it could be an opportunity for personal growth. It also may help us identify the values we really want to teach and make us more proactive in the process of showing and teaching kids about what is really important to us.

Mourning the Morning

2007-10-12T14:47:00.001-07:00

Mourning the Morning

What joy the dawn brings. A new day is born in hues of pink that remind us of a newborn’s cheeks. But with each celebration of morning, there is the mourning of a death. It is so core to our experience that most people don’t even notice this loss, but today’s morning mist marks the death of yesterday. We are surrounded by the casualties of time. Day after day dies at the hand of the invisible marching clock, our memories reminding us of our losses. Many of us do not realize how we grieve these losses, but the fact that most of us struggle with change indicates that we do feel the effects of time.

Each new phase in life means that the old phase has to die. We have parties, give gifts, and have ceremonies as ways of celebrating the new and letting go of the old. We work hard at remembering the lost yesterdays. Photos, bits of paper printed with dates and places line our scrapbooks. Our past is our present and our future. Yesterdays make us who we are today and affect who we become tomorrow.

But then what if yesterday was not gone forever? What if we never lost it at all? What would God’s scrapbook be like? Perfectly preserved, could we pull it down and read it again and again, experiencing our lives in crystal clear memory? We could study it, gaining understanding into the why’s and how’s we could never see while knee deep in living. We could smile at our memories, and remember the hard times, but now instead of “through a glass darkly,” we could finally see the purpose behind the trial or loss.

Just a wondering that makes me long for heaven.

Dancing in the Garden

2007-10-12T08:42:00.000-07:00

Dancing in the Garden

Grandmother put down the Bible, took off her glasses and rubbed her deep blue eyes. “What a tragic day that must have been for them, having to move out of the garden.” She sighed and hugged the little girl in her lap. “But I guess none of us could have done any better in the same situation, could we?”

The little girl looked up, “If I were in the garden, I wouldn’t have eaten that apple Grandma, I promise.”

Grandma said, “Yeah, maybe so, but you would have done some fence-dancing, believe me.”

“What’s fence dancing?” The girl asked, getting down from the lap and sitting on the floor looking up. Grandmother grinned and settled into her chair. The girl smiled knowing she was going to get another story before bed.

“Let me tell you a story,” she began. “A long time ago, almost before there was time,” She winked, “a little girl very much like you said exactly the same thing. Only instead of hearing a story from her crazy old grandmother, a wonderful and frightening thing happened.”

The girl’s eyes did not blink. You could see the whites of her eyes in the night.

“Now I’ve got you!” Grandma thought, and continued.

“This girl lived in a small town. There wasn’t much to do really; compared to the towns we live in today. No movies, no McDonald’s. Parks consisted of trees, and streams and fields of grass. Kids had to make up their own things to do. And this little girl was particularly good at making up things to do. Mostly, she made up stories in her head and acted them out. She could be so many people and go so many places in her mind that she would live in her imaginary worlds for hours. She imagined she was a princess picking roses for a banquet she was giving. Sometimes she was a great scientist trying to discover a cure for a terrible disease that threatened the lives of the entire town. Her favorite was when she was an animal doctor, fixing the broken legs of horses and watching baby kittens be born.

Outside the town was a gardener living in a lovely singing cottage. The girl called it the singing cottage because so many birds perched there that it seemed as if the cottage itself was chirping and peeping, and singing. Around his home was a beautiful garden with flowers, vegetables and fruit trees.

When the girl first discovered the garden, she sneaked in to play her games because the closer she was to the garden, the more real her stories became. She came back day after day until one day she met the gardener face to face. She was playing with a stick, sword fighting with an imaginary enemy when he walked up and smiled at her with the most peculiar grin.

“Not trying to hurt my friend there, I trust,” he said.

The girl smiled at his laughing eyes. He turned toward the imaginary swordsman, took off his muddy hat and bowed. She liked him immediately. His eyes were a potpourri of green—the colors of the leaves, grass and flower petals mixing together and reflecting back at her.

“I’m sorry to trespass," the girl said. "But your garden seems to make things alive. I like playing here.”

The Gardener turned away and walked a few steps, twirling his cap in his hands as if in thought. “You may play in my garden. It is a wonderful place to pretend and to grow,” He said decisively. “But there is one very important rule you must follow. If it is broken, you cannot play in the garden any more.”

“What is it?” the girl asked. And he told her the story of the Great Garden of long ago.

"I've heard that story before," the girl said, "I would never do that."

The Gardener took her hand, and together they walked over to a single tree in the center of a perfectly circular fence. “What is the fence for?” she asked, “You have a fence around the whole garden. Why do you need another one around this tree? Certainly it is safe from anything that would harm it.”

The Gardener said, “It is not to protect the tree, but to protect you and me. Tradition says that the Great Garden was at or near this spot, and that seeds from the Original Tree fell here and planted themselves in the ground. All the other trees of this kind have died, but this tree remains alive. It’s too dangerous to even go near the tree because the temptation is too great. You can play in the whole garden, but you may not go inside the fence.”

The little girl agreed to stay away from the tree, even as she noticed that it was the most beautiful tree in the garden. Every tree wore springtime flowers, but the colors of the fenced tree splashed the brightest shades of pink and yellow and purple against the blue of the sky.

At first she played as far from the tree as she could, but the colors drew her closer to the fence each day. She longed to feel a petal against her face. Was it as soft as velvet? Which sweet smell in the wind was coming from those flowers? As the air warmed day after day, the flowers turned to fruit and the branches weighed heavy toward the fence. She thought, “Oh, how I wish there wasn’t that rule!”

Every day, she played her games closer and closer to the tree. Then, the tree became the main character in her imaginative dramas. One day, she was the princess performing a dance for the kingdom. The first time she performed the dance, all the subjects loved the dance, but not everyone could see her. So, she decided to dance on the fence that stood around the tree. The dance was beautiful; the music soared; she jumped, turned and ended the dance with a beautiful pose. The whole kingdom cheered, and she bowed, but when she did, she lost her balance and began to wobble. She leaned forward, pulled back, then sideways. She was about to fall when she reached out and grabbed one of the heavy branches to steady her from falling.

As several pieces of fruit fell to the ground and the girl’s body made a sick thud on the ground, the Gardener walked up, His shoulders lowered and his head drooped. “I thought this might happen.”

He came over to the fence and leaned on it. He patted it several times “Fences. Rules. When they’re around, we feel trapped. But it is when we have them that we are actually free."

She got up slowly and walked over to the Gardener and looked into his sad green eyes. She ducked under the fence and stood next to him looking down. She felt the wood of the fence on her fingertips.

“It’s like this for everyone. We start out being afraid of what we can’t do, but as we get used to it, it becomes less scary. Our hearts stop pounding and it doesn’t seem so bad anymore. Then we get closer, until one day, we either give in, like I did; or we trip up like you and fall into the trap. It’s always better to play away from the fence because one day, we’ll want to dance on it.”

“You see, sometimes we figure out how to obey a rule, but we inch as close as possible to the deed. We find a loophole. We stretch the rule as far as we can without breaking it, but we break God’s heart in the process. What God wants is our heart obedience. He wants us to obey Him because we love Him.”

Tears dripped silently off the end of the girl’s nose. “I guess I have to say goodbye to you and the Garden,” she cried, trying not to sound like a baby. “I am so sorry.”

“You will have to say goodbye to the Garden,” he said gently, “But you will not have to say goodbye to me,” He tucked her under his arm, “You come to the garden fence whenever you want, and I will come out to meet you. I love you, little one.”

“Did the little girl ever get to go back into the Garden?” the girl said through a yawn.

“Well, that’s a story for another time, but I will tell you this. She came back every day to meet the Gardener at the fence, and they remained great friends. I could tell you about all the mysteries he told her or about the imaginary stories she shared with him, but I think that’s enough for tonight,” Grandma hugged the girl who had already fallen asleep.

Letting Go

2007-10-04T18:45:00.001-07:00

I wrote this last year when my first went to Kindergarten. It's been a year of adjustment, and though painful, there has been a lot of growth--and joy. I thought I'd put it up since I didn't have a blog at the time.

Letting Go

As I watch the waves crash in and swish out across the sand, I notice how the things I’m learning seem to do the same in my life. A theme will come in to the front of my life and then ebb out only to come back again.

Recently that theme has been letting go. I feel like permission to hold onto anything has been stripped away and I am left trying to hold my hand open, relaxing the muscles, wishing I could close it tight.

Two ice blue eyes bounced up and down near my waist, excited to start this new adventure of school. To me it was our last walk together as my baby. We had been walking together for nearly six years…I as the mom and she as the baby. It was hard for me to let her go grow up.

It’s hard to write about, trite as it is. I expected some tears, but the gush that came after I was out of eyeshot of the school was as surprising as the tsunami. The wave just came up and swallowed me.

There are probably many reasons. For one, the deafening quiet my firstborn left in her wake constantly reminded me of the change. There is hardly any way I could fill up the silence and lack of constant conversation.

The other is that it was a change in our team. It had been me and her together for so long. During good and hard times, she was my constant companion. When my husband would leave on long trips, she joined me in the night. “I’ll always be with you when you have hard times,” she would say. Her presence was a comfort.

Sharing. How hard I had worked on that concept with her, but had failed to see I was reluctant to share her with others. Always her passion was to be out there, finding new friends. The world is full of opportunities.

Also, I enjoyed our relationship where we could understand each other. Our experiences were so much the same, that we understood each other completely. She was convinced that I could read her mind, and many times she did the same for me. It was a common vocabulary with parallel connotations. I knew that was going to begin to change.

Change. I’ve never been good with it. It ties my stomach all in knots. I get headaches. I cry. It hurts to change. It’s a grieving process, even when the change is a good one, a happy one. I wish I could see it differently, but life is a series of births and deaths. Not just people, but phases in life. Constant death is in my life. The intense, painful, constant change of life.

An old oak

2007-09-28T10:15:00.000-07:00

An old oak

An old oak stands in the forest.
He can see above the trees,
Looking out over the world
Through a hundred years
Of wind and clouds and birds.

A young flower kneels at his root.
She sees the sky through a canopy of knitted branches.
Her translucent petals flutter
as green light filters through the leaves.
Her life is short, fleeting;
Like a smile crossing a face at a distant memory.

The two make a natural pair.
Strength and beauty living in the harmony
of a thousand rustling leaves;
The sound rushing like a running brook.

The oak doesn’t need the flower, but he enjoys her delicate beauty.
He likes to think that some of the joy she brings comes from the protection and nourishment his roots and canopy supply.
He knows her life is fleeting.
He has supported many flowers in his long life in the forest.
Seeing many friends come and pass,
He knows the joy of life is worth the pain of loss.

The flower needs the oak.
His dark, tall strength lending her the protection she needs to bloom.
But there is no shame in her need.
Her delicate beauty enriches the life of the old, knobby oak
And in the blending
They find joy.

By Mindy Hirst

Baby Critical Realist

2007-09-26T21:18:00.002-07:00

in process...

Baby Relativist

2007-09-26T21:18:00.001-07:00

in process...

Baby Idealist

2007-09-25T18:52:00.002-07:00

The baby idealist says, "The duck is wet. I feel the duck is wet. My mind tells me it is wet; I feel it, and what I feel is real."

Pondering: How does the baby begin to think that the duck is wet? Is it because there is a physical sensation associated with the word “wet” that her mother keeps uttering at the side of the tub?

See…
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Idealist

…epistemological idealism (also known as the "way of ideas"), asserts that minds are aware of or perceive only their own ideas, and not external objects.

http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?search=idealist&searchmode=none
ideal

Baby Pragmatist

2007-09-25T18:52:00.001-07:00

The baby pragmatist says, “The duck is wet. I pick it up and drop it back down into the water and it splashes. Mom says, ‘Did you get wet?’ I look at mom and hold it up to her. She says ‘The ducky is wet.’ I hold up another toy and say, ‘wet.’ She nods her head. My testing says that it’s wet.”

Baby Realist

2007-09-25T18:51:00.000-07:00

In process...

Rubber Duck Philosophy

2007-09-25T18:44:00.002-07:00

As we walk through the process of writing this book on epistemology (the study of knowledge and the nature of truth), I've been trying to apply the principles and concepts of philosophy to the very basics of life.

I found myself at the side of the tub with a very wet child and a rubber duck bobbing in the water. It made me wonder how the different philosophers would think about the statement, "The duck is wet."

The duck knew this was coming, as my youngest last week dropped it in the toilet and he escaped, being flushed away to sea (at least we hope he makes it eventually).

Permissive

2007-09-25T18:42:00.000-07:00

Word Reclamation: Permissive

Permission Parenting

The current word reclamation, and then subsequent renaming will be “permissive parenting” to “permission parenting.”

In the extreme of the popular meaning of the word “permissive,” the parent allows their child to have whatever they want, whenever they want it. This may be for a myriad of reasons. Maybe the parent is afraid, indifferent, or indecisive. It may be that the parent thinks that giving the child everything they want will make them happy. The parent may care too much about what other people think, and therefore makes decisions based on that.

Sometimes the description is used to describe discipline tools used by the parent. Time outs or natural consequences being used by more “permissive” parents, while more painful methods used by parents who use more “strict” methods.

But when you put aside the popular concept of the word permissive and consider the definition, it would be difficult to imagine a loving parent not wanting to fit into this definition. Let’s take a look.

The American Heritage Dictionary of the English language defines permissive as:

per·mis·sive
play_w("P0201500")
(p r-m s v)
adj.
1. Granting or inclined to grant permission; tolerant or lenient.
2. Permitting discretion; optional.
3. Archaic Not forbidden; permitted.
The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition copyright ©2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Updated in 2003. Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.

Who of us doesn’t want to give our children good things? Who of us wants to say “no” for the sake of saying it? But with the negativity surrounding the word, parents are afraid to be viewed as permissive because it is seen as spoiling or taking the easy way out.

Part of the reaction to permissiveness is the idea that there is no authority. But when you look at the act of granting permission, authority is the foundational concept. You cannot grant permission without authority.

per·mis·sion
play_w("P0201400")
(p r-m sh n)
n.
1. The act of permitting.
2. Consent, especially formal consent; authorization.

The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition copyright ©2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Updated in 2003. Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.

On the outside, some of the decisions and style of a permission parent may look permissive in the popular sense, but under the surface there is a different structure guiding the decisions.

The reaction to the popular idea of permissive parenting is to go to the extreme in other direction. The popular word for this is “strict,” though I believe this word, too, needs reclamation.

American Heritage Dictionary - Cite This Source
Strict (strĭkt) Pronunciation Key adj. strict·er, strict·est
1. Precise; exact: a strict definition.
2. Complete; absolute: strict loyalty.
3. Kept within narrowly specific limits: a strict application of a law.
4. Rigorous in the imposition of discipline: a strict parent.
5. Exacting in enforcement, observance, or requirement: strict standards. See Synonyms at severe.
6. Conforming completely to established rule, principle, or condition: a strict vegetarian.
7. Botany Stiff, narrow, and upright.[Middle English stricte, narrow, small, from Latin strictus, tight, strict, past participle of stringere, to draw tight; see streig- in Indo-European roots.] strict'ly adv., strict'ness n.
The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition copyright ©2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Updated in 2003. Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.

Though they appear to be antonyms, these two words are not mutually exclusive. A loving parent can be inclined to grant permission, while also being rigorous in the imposition of discipline. When the goal is to impart values, respect and experiences over compliance, the two can coexist in a complementary relationship.

Values are at the base of the difference. If control is the highest value, then strictness without permissiveness would be the goal. If happiness is the highest value, then permissiveness would be the goal. But when a process of learning is the goal, then a dance using both concepts will be the constant cadence of our lives.

I suggest a new term to describe this dance; “permission parenting.” With this concept, I have many wishes for my kids. I want them to learn to be patient, kind and generous through a healthy balance of yes’s and no’s coupled with teaching and explanations.

I want my kids to wake up each morning to a world full of opportunity. I want them to see that with every no there is a yes. When my little girl was small, she used to go all around the house touching things. I would say, “that’s a no. Go find your yeses” She responded so well to that small explanation. I want to help my kids to look for the yeses in life.

I also want my kids to learn to trust me to answer their questions, and hopefully with that trust, to learn patience.

I want them to know that I value them. I want them to believe that I want to help them learn. Sometimes the answer is simply, “Because I love you, and I’m trying to make the best decision in this.” It’s ok for them to know I have to pray for answers. It’s ok for them to see me change my mind sometimes.

Saying yes to the good with good timing is a wonderful and loving thing to do. The trick is figuring out which things are good and which things are not good. Sometimes it’s not that clear on the surface, and it takes a bit of falling in the mud to figure it out.

Questions I ask:
Is it good for them?
What value will it teach them if I give them permission?
Will it help them learn something?
Will waiting help them develop patience?
Is this a timely request that needs to be accepted now?
Will it make a good and lasting memory of love?
Is it a mistake?
Is it a mistake that they are willing to make and learn from?

One of the synonyms to permissive is tolerant, which also gets a bad wrap. At first glance, we think of tolerating something bad without saying anything, but there is more to the word than that. In a certain context, it doesn’t have to mean tolerating bad behavior. It could mean tolerating and forbearing difficult circumstances.

tol·er·ant
play_w("T0253200")
(t l r- nt)
adj.
1. Inclined to tolerate the beliefs, practices, or traits of others; forbearing. See Synonyms at broad-minded.
2. Able to withstand or endure an adverse environmental condition: plants tolerant of extreme heat.

God doesn’t give us little blank people to mold. They have their own makeup that we work with. Being tolerant of those parts of our kids that we don’t understand and are different from us is a wonderful goal to aspire to. And what parent hasn’t endured adverse environmental conditions?

But this approach takes a strong parent who understands their values and their approach. It illicits criticism. Finally, it takes a lot of work because it is hard not to discourage a question while at the same time address the attitude behind it. It takes constant thinking and dependence on God for wisdom, which means that we will surely fail daily in our humanity.

God is the great parent. Our Father, who art in Heaven… What a wonderful comfort to know that the task of parenting has not been given to us without our being given the most competent example. Sometimes it’s easy to look at this person or that person’s strategy and wonder how their kids “will turn out” in time. It’s like we all want that magic mirror to look into for wisdom. We forget that God has been parenting generations of fallen humans just like our kids, and He has given us glimpses into his strategy through His Word.

There are a couple places in the Gospels that talk about this subject of permission. Jesus talks about God giving us good things when we ask.

Matthew 7:9-11 (New International Version)
9"Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? 10Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? 11If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!
Luke 11:10-12 (New International Version)
10For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened.
11"Which of you fathers, if your son asks for[a] a fish, will give him a snake instead? 12Or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion?

In this mindset of permission parenting, life becomes a practice of questioning attitudes and underlying motivations. It becomes looking into the future that the consequences of choices (yours or your kids) will bring. There becomes a larger and larger need for wisdom. And isn’t that where God wants our search for meaning to go…to His provision? And if we ask God for wisdom, what good thing will He give to us, but just that?

www.biblegateway.com

1 Kings 3:7-14 (NIV)
7 "Now, O LORD my God, you have made your servant king in place of my father David. But I am only a little child and do not know how to carry out my duties. 8 Your servant is here among the people you have chosen, a great people, too numerous to count or number. 9 So give your servant a discerning heart to govern your people and to distinguish between right and wrong. For who is able to govern this great people of yours?"
10 The Lord was pleased that Solomon had asked for this. 11 So God said to him, "Since you have asked for this and not for long life or wealth for yourself, nor have asked for the death of your enemies but for discernment in administering justice, 12 I will do what you have asked. I will give you a wise and discerning heart, so that there will never have been anyone like you, nor will there ever be. 13 Moreover, I will give you what you have not asked for—both riches and honor—so that in your lifetime you will have no equal among kings. 14 And if you walk in my ways and obey my statutes and commands as David your father did, I will give you a long life."
Luke 15:11-32 (New International Version)
New International Version (NIV)
Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society

In permission parenting, my highest value cannot be protection from harm. Sometimes I have to stand back and not swoop in to rescue…and that is hard. It’s easier just to say no and keep a child protected. I think of the story of the Prodigal son.

The Parable of the Lost Son
11Jesus continued: "There was a man who had two sons. 12The younger one said to his father, 'Father, give me my share of the estate.' So he divided his property between them.
13"Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. 14After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. 15So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. 16He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.
17"When he came to his senses, he said, 'How many of my father's hired men have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! 18I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. 19I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired men.' 20So he got up and went to his father. "But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.
21"The son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.[a]'
22"But the father said to his servants, 'Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let's have a feast and celebrate. 24For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' So they began to celebrate.
25"Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. 26So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. 27'Your brother has come,' he replied, 'and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.'
28"The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. 29But he answered his father, 'Look! All these years I've been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. 30But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!'
31" 'My son,' the father said, 'you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. 32But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' "

I made of list of things for which I try to give my kids permission. Some of them are hard, and I’m still in process of relinquishing control of their lives to God, but aren’t we all in a process of growth?

I give you permission to:

Ask me questions
Feel emotions
Talk to me
Disagree with me
Hurt my feelings
Accept my forgiveness
Have the will God gave you
Learn to give that will to God or me willingly
Learn the hard way
Learn the easy way
Stand up straight
Have an opinion
Wear clothes that don’t match to school
Have your own style
Say no
Say yes
Try something you’re not good at
Ask me why
Grow up at your own pace
Love me willingly
Or not
Learn to live without me

Related words to ponder:

com·men·da·tion
play_w("C0507900")

(k m n-d sh n)
n.
1. The act of commending.
2. Something, especially an official award or citation, that commends.
hm();Sources=Sources 2;
The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition copyright ©2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Updated in 2003. Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.

ap·prov·al
play_w("A0384400")

( -pr v l)
n.
1. The act or an instance of approving.
2. An official approbation; a sanction.
3. Favorable regard; commendation.
Idiom:
on approval
For examination or trial by a customer without the obligation to buy: took the dress on approval.
hm();Sources=Sources 2;
The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition copyright ©2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Updated in 2003. Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.

tol·er·ant
play_w("T0253200")

(t l r- nt)
adj.
1. Inclined to tolerate the beliefs, practices, or traits of others; forbearing. See Synonyms at broad-minded.
2. Able to withstand or endure an adverse environmental condition: plants tolerant of extreme heat.
[French tolérant, from Latin toler ns, present participle of toler re, to bear; see tolerate.]
tol er·ant·ly adv.
hm();Sources=Sources 2;
The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition copyright ©2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Updated in 2003. Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.

Word Reclamation

2007-09-25T18:40:00.000-07:00

Sometimes a word is so over-used in the negative sense, it loses its usefulness to describe something good. Especially if it is used to describe a stereotype, it becomes cultural taboo to be associated with it, and people are then almost permanently cut off from a word tool. It’s fun to go through the mental process of word reclamation by analyzing its meaning, and putting it in a new light. It may not take away the connotations that an over-use could create, but it may regain some of its richness and usefulness over time. One side of me would want to begin using it in its new, positive sense, but a more practical solution is to come up with a similar, but new word to describe the new idea. The intent of this section is to walk through words in a process of “word reclamation” in order to spark thought about a subject and possibly enrich the meaning of a word tool.

Jello on the Wall...Honest Reactions

2007-09-13T19:39:00.000-07:00

Jello on the Wall

My new motto is forming: Honest flaws for honest growth. I’ve been learning a lot about honesty, and how many places in my life are coated with its antithesis. I’m not talking about outright lies, but a subtle, acceptable, an even likable tendency to read a situation and react in the most acceptable way possible in the culture I am in. It stems from a need to be liked, accepted, even an illusion of perfection or politeness. Sometimes I call it self-control; sometimes consideration. When I make decisions, it’s hard to think through the muck of intentions. But I’m learning that if I can strip away the coating of likableness in my heart, then I am given the clarity that enables growth. I can face the fear or anger in the pit of my stomach and instead of covering it up, I can look intently into its face and choose what to do, rather than react out of fear or insecurity. Honest selfishness is a better starting point for growth than white-washed cultural fluency. Like a radio that hones into the right frequency, honesty brings clarity to the Holy Spirit’s voice. The message hasn’t changed, but I can hear it, and it sounds more and more beautiful the closer my dial comes to the source.

My life is full of opportunities to react with cultural nicety, or with honest reaction. Once we reach a place of honesty, hopefully we will stop reacting and begin responding with the Holy Spirit’s prodding to show true and honest love when we are wronged, irritated or insulted.

This week has been particularly full of memories and current moments of what God is teaching me about honesty. In my daily routine of taking care of small children, my mind often wanders to my mother. Memories flash across my mind when I smell the baby lotion or hear a certain inflection in my own voice. It’s like she’s talking through the years through my very own voice. Most recently, my reverie brought me back to a moment when I was three years old, wanting so desperately to be a big helper on grocery shopping day. My mom allowed me for the first time to take the plastic gallon jug of milk from the car, up the stairs, through the living room, and then, with my cold hands slipping on the condensation and my little arms aching from the load, less than 2 feet from the lanolium kitchen floor, I dropped it. The plastic cracked and I saw a gallon of white liquid squirt out. Glug, glug, glug, I saw 8 pounds of milk seep into the carpet and saturate its way into the padding and down to the floorboard beneath. I cried. Not out of fear, but of failure. I looked up and there she was, the most beautiful woman in the world, (of course), blond curls framing a tender look. It was ok.

I wonder if I could be that calm. I think of the moment when I looked out at my 16 month old in the yard. We made eye contact, and she pulled the sausage of dried dog poop out of her mouth and offered it to me. I wasn’t that calm. I scooped her up and ran her upstairs to the sink as fast as I could, rinsing her mouth out and sanitizing her hands.

I think of the moment when I spent precious time finding and printing a picture out of the computer to use for a party game and brought it into the room. Proudly, I leaned down to show the younger two kids the picture and they grabbed it and crumpled it in delight. When I finally pried it out of the baby’s hand, seeing it was useless, I crumpled it in frustration and threw it in the garbage.

There are times when I’ve made conscious choices to act a certain way regardless of my feelings. Wet beds at night are one of those. As a chronic bed wetter, I had the benefit of a wonderful example in my mom. When I awoke in the night to cold, clingy sheets and a sharp smell, I never felt shame or fear. She quietly and lovingly replaced the sheets and tucked me in. I try to respond that way, remembering how much that experience convinced me of her love.

But how do I know my mother’s extreme patience in those moments was not a carefully planned stoicism…a detachment from the reality of little children? I know because of her honest reactions, and willingness to allow us to see her weaknesses. I remember one time, mom was on the phone and something upset her so badly that she took the bowl of Jello she was working on, and threw it against the wall. I walked into the room to see the remains of the sweet gelatin creeping down the wall leaving a red stain behind, and saw a mother who had just had an honest release. She always thought we teased her about the Jello on the wall because we liked to torture her. I know it was because that one, rare moment of human frailty solidified the honesty of all the moments of patient love she gave to us.

When we don’t live honestly, we begin to die inside. We look around for how we should act to be accepted. We crave approval. Without honesty, we begin to lose sight of what is real. We don’t have our identity in Christ, and we begin to not even know who we are anymore. We get hurt when our efforts don’t gain for us the fulfillment we are looking for, and we carry grudges of hurt and pain.

When I live in this mindset, I feel dead inside. All this trying to make people around me happy saps my energy, and leaves nothing left to grow in Christ. I can’t hear God’s voice because I’m listening to all these other voices around me…voices of expectation, service, and duty. I can’t hear what God is asking me to do today.

I wonder if this was the problem with the Pharisees and the teachers of the law. Jesus called them white-washed tombs, full of dead men’s bones and everything unclean.

Matthew 23:27 (New International Version)
27"Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men's bones and everything unclean.

The problem with honesty is that it opens you up to judgement from other people, and that can be painful. No wonder Jesus talks so strongly about judgement.
Matthew 7:1-3 (New International Version)

Judging Others
1"Do not judge, or you too will be judged. 2For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.
3"Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?

That’s also why it is so important to have our identity in Christ. If who we are is not dependent on what anyone else thinks of us, then we are not vulnerable. We are protected by a perfect love that casts out all fear.

1 John 4:18 (New International Version)
18There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.

It’s fun to take a truth and look into a world where it is played out as the rule rather than the exception. What if we taught our children to be honest with themselves and others? What if we praised them for honest growth rather than what looks good on the outside? Would our relationships be healthier? Could we move forward in love without fear? It would be ok to say, “That hurts” or “I don’t want to.” Would we be hurt less often and heal more quickly?

Speaking the truth in love is difficult. Today my daughter looked out the window and announced that the neighbor children were smashing mushrooms in the front yard. I felt the anger well up, and I took a deep breath. I wanted to do the right thing, so I prayed. Then I opened the front door to see smashed and broken mushrooms and a flattened flowerbed. The huge mushrooms that fascinated me the morning before littered the front steps. The old me would have reacted very differently. I would have gone outside, and quietly cleaned up the mess without saying a word, knowing that if I said anything, I would feel guilty later. Instead, I called over to the children and asked them if they had plans to clean up the mess. I didn’t yell, I simply asked them to take responsibility, and they rose to the calling. I did not get an apology, but they knew I was not happy, and there was no yelling necessary. Hopefully, future mushrooms will be saved from certain demise.

Ephesians 4:14-16 (New International Version)
14Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of men in their deceitful scheming. 15Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into him who is the Head, that is, Christ. 16From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.

It is neat to see how what you learn as a parent changes what you teach your kids. I used to believe a good goal was to teach kids how to act to be acceptable. The “pleases,” “thank-you’s” and “I’m sorry’s” were to keep the peace, not to teach a moral and relational lesson. Teaching them a polite tone was to avoid having them in time-out at school, not about respect. Now I see that it’s more important to teach them the reason behind the “I forgive you” than to get them to say it through clenched teeth. I would much rather see an honest grudge in my child, than one suppressed, because honesty is easier to work with than a cover-up. I still believe we should teach kids politeness, but always on a foundation of honesty with the goal of bringing them along a path of understanding about respecting others, repentance, and forgiveness.

Teaching kids to be honest with themselves and others equips them to form honest and healthy relationships with genuine affection, without a need to hint to get their needs across. Built on a foundation of honesty, their relationships can be secure.

On my daughter’s birthday, her little brother could not be convinced that it was not his special day. He kept insisting all day that it was his “Dirtday.” All day, my daughter reinforced that it was her birthday and his would come another day, but he could not be convinced. When it came to present time, there was a gift for him too. None of us knew how she would react, since transparency is a strong trait in her. When the gifts were open, she leaned over to her brother and said, “I’m glad you got those trains.” Nobody was watching, she just had an honest moment of generosity. The next day, he sat alone at the kitchen table with a leftover piece of cake on a pony plate and happily sang, “Happy Dirtday, Dear Sister, Happy Dirtday to You.” Honest love in relationship.

After the kids finished cleaning up the big pieces of mushroom, I swept up the remnants. Looking down, I saw what was left of another set of neighbor children’s chalk drawing. A set of arrows went down the stairs, across the sidewalk and up to their home where there was a birthday wish for my daughter written on the driveway; an honest chalk path of friendship.

Life is not a finished article, it’s a work in process, with spelling errors, fragments, and jumbled thoughts, moving along the page as the thoughts pour out. If we stand back, watching from afar, we may gain head-knowledge of what works and doesn’t work, but we don’t increase our skill at living. We have to get out there and make the hard mistakes. We have to wade our way through the muck of this world in order to make any progress. And we have to be honest to grow.

Golden Moment

2007-09-02T19:46:00.000-07:00

In the light of this coming autumn, here is a wish that everyone has a golden moment of their own...

Golden Moment

a moment shimmers
gold and clear
in this yellow place

warm light flickers
as golden crowns wave
on top of great trunks
white and straight

a yellow blanket
crunches beneath my weight
earth and sky meet
in a canopy of light

my nostrils tingle
with the first hint of winter
air expanding my lungs
the autumn mountain
smells of burning leaves

i dare not move
and disrupt the magic
in this yellow light
yesterday, tomorrow and today
blend
in this golden moment

memories and dreams
mix into one
like warm light
and cool air marry into joy

how long will this moment last?
i wonder
if the watch ticking out the seconds
has stopped
i dare not look
and see the moment vanish

By Mindy Hirst

A Sense of Duty

2007-08-20T21:10:00.000-07:00

“David also said to Solomon his son,
‘Be strong and courageous, and do the work.’”
1 Chronicles 28:20

By Jon Hirst

There is a sense of duty that drives people to do the many things that fill their lives. We feel duty to our country, duty to our family, duty to our alma mater, and the list goes on. These forces in our lives cause us to invest time, resources and ourselves on many levels. And we do it happily because when we do this, we feel that we are completing a circle that no one can quite explain but everyone knows must be finished in order for life to go on.

The word duty floods my mind with ideas of responsibility, tradition, value, and good character. It also carries with it a feeling of obligation – a heavy feeling that sticks to you like plastic on sweaty skin. This heaviness paints negative strokes on the canvas that is the word duty. It reminds us that sometimes duty is an obligation that is shunned or at least disdained.

So what is the place of duty in the Christian life? The first question to ask is, “Duty to whom?” Many people say that they feel a duty to their church or to their parent’s religious background. But I have heard few talk about duty to their Creator.

It seems rather obvious that the creation should feel duty towards the Creator of the universe and Savior of the world. It would make sense that if humanity were to feel duty towards anything it would be towards their God. So when I realized that this wasn’t the case, I had to ask myself why.

It comes down to the way that God revealed Himself to us. He chose to reveal Himself through grace, and He gave us a choice. He decided not to impose duty upon us but to give us the ability to come to Him or reject Him. And that ability is what makes the difference.

No one I know chooses duty. Duty is thrust upon someone and they either struggle under the load or thrive with the challenge. Duty is either a loathsome obligation or a special privilege. Once God extended to His creation a choice, we realized that the decision was up to us. Humanity then began to view its decision to follow God as something that could be controlled by them and held up as an accomplishment of humanity instead of the duty of a creature.

In the rush of free will we have left duty far behind. We preach choice from our pulpits. We focus our eyes on the important role that each individual plays in the redemptive plan. We view that moment that an individual steps from the shadows of darkness into the aisles of pure light as the pinnacle of what makes our faith so incredible. And truly it is an incredible moment. That moment encompasses everything that is amazing about grace.

Unfortunately, in our humanity we focus on the human choice that exists and forget about the reality of eternal duty. We don’t understand that it is our duty as the creation to serve the Creator. We truly have no choice about the matter. The only reason that there is choice involved is because God has postponed the day when “every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that He is Lord.” That example of duty makes my loyalty to a university or to a company feel very insignificant.

Eternal duty makes my head swim. I struggle to imagine an obligation so strong that time cannot erode it. This type of duty desired to command the attention of my grandfather and his grandfather. It will exist when my great grandchildren grow up. And the most amazing thing is that this duty doesn’t change.

When God asked Solomon, through his father David, to fulfill his duty by building the temple, it was the same call that God makes to Christians today. Solomon understood clearly what God wanted Him to accomplish and he knew that eternal duty demanded it. With that understanding, Solomon built one of the most amazing structures in the world and watched as the Creator of the world descended into it and inhabited it.

In our day, the existence of eternal duty is just as real. But the question that remains is, “Are God’s creation aware of their duty and willing to fulfill it?”

I look at individuals like John Wycliffe, Martin Luther, D.L. Moody, and Billy Graham and I can say that some do see their eternal duty and take it up as their commitment. But so many more are happy with other duties that pale in comparison.

What is loyalty to a job, or faithfulness to a cause in the face of eternal duty? Now I am not saying that these things could not be part of our eternal duty to God. God uses people and their specific skills and responsibilities and these people are driven by this sense of eternal duty. But too many times we settle for these inferior duties as ends in themselves instead of a part of the eternal picture.

I imagine with sadness the look on the face of an activist that spent their life fighting for their cause only to realize as they kneel before the throne of God that their cause was just a puddle compared to the ocean of God’s eternal purpose.

So how can this eternal duty be explained? What are it’s guiding points. Jesus laid them out to the young man who came to him searching for a cause. Jesus said “love God then love others (get exact verse).” Everything we do should be judged based how we represent these principles to the Creator and His creation – after all it is our duty.

Boxes

2007-08-20T19:21:00.000-07:00

Boxes

My house is full of boxes, because to me, a box holds mystery, joy and magic. The lifting of a lid is a moment to cherish. Sometimes it’s the small delight of a Frango Mint at Christmastime. Other times it’s accompanied by cake and open-mouthed smiles singing “Happy Birthday.” Some boxes play music. Others boast hand-painted designs.

A box can protect a family history, like the wooden box full of grandma’s treasures.

Sometimes a box holds a yesterday; like the glittering box that cradles my daughter’s baby teeth.

A box can hold tomorrow; like the small velvet box that my love gave to me the night he proposed.

A box can hold forever; like the simple box that wraps a child’s first Bible.

Our life is full of boxes. We need places to hold the precious things in our lives. Places to keep them, protect them, and frame the images that flood in when we dust them off in the quiet moments of life and remember, cherish, and hope.

Quiet the moment, and open a box.

By Mindy Hirst

A heart cry

2007-08-19T20:43:00.000-07:00

A heart cry

Sometimes when I’m tired or sick or afraid
I hear my heart cry, “I want my mom!”

It is an intense longing; a cry from deep inside.
Like an infant in her crib crying out,
She knows that she is not enough in and of herself.

What is this my heart is longing for?
To lay my head on the softness of her shoulder;
To awaken to the smell of coffee and
her warm skin wrapped in cotton pajamas.

It is to run in the dark with your heart in your ears
Knowing that if you could just get to the side of the bed
You would be safe and the pounding would stop.

It is waking her up in the middle of the night,
To talk through some anxious pain,
And she, listening over a bowl of ice cream.

It is feeling her there at every proud moment,
Watching you with wet eyes;
Knowing you are filling her heart with joy.

It is her hand gently stroking your hairline
As you cry out in the night;
Rocking back and forth in pain;
As you bring forth your own child;
Your heart is not crying…

Mom is there.

Sweet Baby

2007-08-19T20:12:00.000-07:00

I wrote this several years ago to our youngest child before we knew her. I thought I would share this for those who are waiting...

Sweet baby, I miss you.

We’ve never met, so how can I miss you so much? Why does my chest ache with an emptiness I can’t understand? Why do my arms feel empty? Why do I count the heads at the table and feel like someone is missing?

I love you. But how can I love someone who was never created? Is it that you are out there waiting for me to accept you? Will your chubby hand never grasp a Cheerio while marble eyes beam above two mounds of white cheek? Or will you go to someone else if I wait too long?

I close my eyes and I can see your eyes, feel the soft skin on the curve of your cheek, smell the wispy hair above your ears and it’s hard to let you go. It’s hard to know that you may never be mine to hold, to love, to raise and then finally to let go.

Instead, I have to let you go now. Even before you exist. You are not mine…not that you ever would be. You are God’s—to give or not to give. It is not in my power to make you come to be. It is only in God’s power that your life is created. And that is fitting, for only through his power can your life be redeemed.

But I can’t help hoping that you might still come to me. My heart races at the thought that the gift of your life might be placed in mine. That my life might be given to yours to help you come into the world. And then it would be my honor to watch you grow. To pour my life into yours. To see you become the wonderful vision God had of you when he sat down to create you.

If one day you’re given to me, it will be the greatest gift. But even the thought of you…the hope and longing for you is a wonderful joy. And so I love you baby, and always will.

Mindy Hirst

The Look

2007-08-19T19:56:00.000-07:00

The Look

My mind has stored many memories from those first fuzzy, dreamlike days following the triumphant drive home from the hospital with our newest baby. One of those is my five-year-old looking closely into her new sister’s squirmy face as her eyes fluttered open for a brief second. She turned to me and announced in disbelief, “Mom, she has blue eyes just like me!”

But her eyes, though similar, were not exactly the same. Still in the cool family, her eyes were her own shade of blue, and we have watched over the months as they have taken a yellowish turn, making us think they may become green over time.

It is incredible that each member of our family, though similar in many ways, has his and her own hue. We’ve gotten a strange pleasure from naming our particular shades. Like the labels on a pile of crayons, we’ve named each other; ice blue, denim blue, Chicago River blue, Lake Michigan blue, and Arizona Desert Sand. There is something about being a family that ties us together. A similar sense of humor, the way our bodies are made up, a tendency to like or dislike the same things. But, though we may all be of the same genetic makeup, our shading is all our own, and it affects the way we do things and even our style of parenting.

One characteristic in my family that was not passed down universally is “The Look.” We can only trace this trait as far back as my grandfather with his steel eyes and intense expression. My mom inherited those eyes almost without variance, which is how she got The Look. Her eyes are sweet and caring most of the time, but step over the line and you’ll get it. The Look can stop you mid-sentence, mid-reach or mid-jump (in my brother’s case). It makes you think again about whatever it is you are doing. You can even feel The Look if it is given from behind.

I, being an overly compliant child, rarely needed more than The Look in the form of discipline. I knew that what followed was never good, and I had observed this life-principle many times in the lives of my older brother and sister. I knew better. It was a wonderful tool, and I am thankful in retrospect for it. It was a warning, like the tide rolling out before a tsunami.

When I became a parent, I realized pretty early on that I was not my mother. Strong, decisive, organized. I had always idealized the amazing woman who had poured her life into me. Initially, I figured I could follow in her steps and do what I always did…learn from watching. But my memory, good as it was at storing childhood memories, was not enough. I found quickly that I was a different person with different strengths and that my mom’s strategies would not work across the board for me.

“You need to get ‘The Look,’” she said to me one day as my precious little two-year-old tested me at her house, embarrassing me with her iron-willed determination to touch whatever it was she wasn’t supposed to touch.

“I know,” I said discouraged. What she didn’t know was that I had tried the look, given the look, and even practiced the look with no results. What was the problem? It worked for my sister, why not me?

Then one day I realized why. Since I was a small child, my mom always told me that I looked like my dad. She attributed most of it to the wavy hair and likable smile I got from him. What she didn’t realize was that although the color of my eyes came from her, the set of my brow was that of my father’s. It was one of the things that drew her to him, those sweetly set, wet hazel eyes. But it was also the thing that made it impossible for him to relate to us the way she did.

Without The Look, Dad’s authority had to come from elsewhere. Not immediately imposing, we had to learn over time that he may not look serious, but he would always follow through on the important things. His disappointment was not something to be feared, but his approval was attainable and was to be treasured.

Eventually, we all get our own style and confidence in parenting. Over time, I’ve learned to find my own strengths and use them to my advantage, compensating for the lack of other tools. Being childlike, I have a way of understanding a child’s world and connecting on a different level. When I talk with children, they understand me. This has been tremendously useful in my relationships with my kids. What strengths do you have that help you work with your kids? Are you funny, patient, consistent, organized? Ask God how you can use those gifts to pour into the lives of your kids.

We are each created unique, and God has an intimate knowledge of our makeup. He knew exactly what he was doing when he planted your children into your family. And he knew exactly what they needed when he gave you to them. He has given you the tools you need to teach them what they need to learn in their young years. Just ask him for wisdom to see what they are.

I just dumped out our tub of crayon nubs and found 49 blues. I would never want to be stuck with only one shade when I undertook a major work of art. God made each of us as individual as the colors in a box of crayons. Though sometimes similar, we are all unique. He uses each of us for a different purpose in the work of art He is creating in our families and communities. Be proud of your hue, and be willing to let God use you in his masterpiece.

Psalm 139:13-14 (NIV)
For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

Kindergarten Teacher

2007-08-18T19:49:00.000-07:00

Kindergarten Teacher

Her face is alight in the playground sun
She is standing at the bottom of the slide
a chain of children curling down every inch
She laughs, reaching out
making sure each child survives
the twenty slipping, wriggling legs

Her eyes are serious
She is directing a line of children
some shuffle along looking at their feet
one marches head high, shoulders back
another studies the shape of the cloud overhead
They hurry and dawdle in a pattern of chaotic order

Her back is strong
She is bending over a short table
crayons scattered in red, and blue
and yellow—her favorite color
A small hand colors
wild hair blowing in the wind
It is my teacher,
my Kindergarten teacher

Her smile is young
She is immersed each day
In the imagination of five-year-olds
Their in-the-moment
Love of life infusing her
With the joy and energy of a child

Her heart is loving
She is standing at the gate
Carefully watching each child go home for the day
They look to her in awe and adoration
Her face forever etched in their mind
The thought of her smile always bringing pride and comfort

By Mindy Hirst
September 11, 2006

The Mountain Has a Soul

2007-08-18T19:44:00.000-07:00

The Mountain Has a Soul

The mountain has a soul
on its side a battle rages

The winds crest against its sides
and clouds swirl and build

As shadows invade the gentle slopes
and creep toward its valiant heart

The mountain has a soul
and it finds most joy in the light

But the winds still howl
And the shadows creep

The battle descends on every valley
Defying light and casting dim dismay

It makes us ask of the journey,
Why the winds?
Why the shadows?
Why the battles?
Why the struggles?

But that is not the question of this mountain
This struggle created its shape and majesty
Instead it asks with hopeful certainty
For strength in the journey

Jon Hirst

The Rock and the Rainbow

2007-08-18T19:31:00.000-07:00

2 Samuel 22:47 “The LORD lives! Praise be to my Rock! Exalted be God, the Rock, my Savior!”

I watched a rainbow pierce the side of a rock cliff this afternoon. Rain drops fell around me and the dark clouds lumbered by, giving the sun moments to glaze the rocks with light.

I watched a rainbow pierce the side of a rock cliff this afternoon. Part of me wished the rock was not there and the rainbow was allowed to stream down to the ground. The rock’s solid mass broke up the rainbow into a million pieces of light and I mourned its passing.

I watched a rainbow pierce the side of a rock cliff this afternoon. Another part of me admired the rock. In the face of such beauty and mesmerizing power, it held steadfast and did not waver. It faced the rainbow, the rain, the sun and every other element with a strength I do not have.

I watched a rainbow pierce the side of a rock cliff this afternoon. Strength and beauty met together at that divine intersection, and I saw the point of the soul where God pierces his people with his light and steadfastness, transforming them into holy works.

We pause today at the rock and the rainbow and thank God for one of His own, remembering the great power and beauty created in a life dedicated to Him.

By Jon Hirst

God's Workbench

2007-08-18T19:25:00.000-07:00

God's Workbench

When I was a kid, my dad had a huge workbench in the garage. It was black with use, but orderly with a light oily smell. He had a corkboard above with hooks suspending endless tools; clean and well worn. I remember a fine-toothed saw and another with jagged crocodile teeth. On the desktop lay more tools; an adjustable wrench, pliers, a notched-handled screwdriver, and a set of silver wrenches that gleamed like jewelry.

Above the bench was a piece of plywood between rafters that held a pile of lumber just waiting for an imagination to lift some down for a go-cart or lean-to. With that bench, a big yard and an engaged imagination, there were endless possibilities. Standing behind those tools, there was a sense of excitement and power.

We are all tools on God’s workbench. Hopefully we are willing tools in the hand of the Creator, who uses each of us to accomplish the projects He is working on in building His kingdom. Some of us are used on many projects; others are committed to one project for a lifetime.

Sometimes we kids would swipe a tool from Dad to build a fort or fix a toy, and leave it in the yard to get wet and rusty. Sometimes I feel like that when I leave the workbench of God to work on my own projects. I may accomplish something, but outside the safety of the bench, I am left uncared for. And then the wonderful day when I am found again, dried off and set again on the honorable workbench until he has a job for me.

There have been other times in my life when I have felt like the obscure tool in the drawer, forgotten and unused—my strange shape making people wonder what I could possibly be used for. And then a snag comes up in a project and I am the perfect solution to get to the next step.

My dad always said, “Use the right tool for the right job.” But sometimes when you can’t find the right tool, you have to make due. There are times when I felt like a hammer pounding in a screw…or better yet, the screw getting pounded by a hammer, because there was not the appropriate tool willing for the job. I wonder if our lives would become a little easier if all God’s tools were willing to do the jobs He intended for us.

Not too long ago, God had us working on something, and then switched us to another project in the middle of the job. My initial response was frustration and resistance. How could God stop work on MY project? And then I realized; it was never ours to begin with…and who is to say that work has stopped just because we’ve been moved to another kingdom project? He is the Creator. In that realization, I have much peace. Now He has us settled again in another project. We feel fulfilled, using our skills to complete kingdom tasks. We can see results and that is a tremendous blessing.

Since we’ve been married, we’ve been trying to follow God’s leading, step by step, working on the projects He lays out for us, and sometimes switching projects when He needs us somewhere else. Without that understanding, our decisions may look erratic and confusing; changing projects every few years and having a baby in each state we have lived in! But from the Creator’s perspective, our life is secure and stable as a part of His toolset. It gives us joy to know that we fit perfectly within his plan no matter where it takes us.

Jon and Mindy Hirst

Sewer Flower

2007-08-18T18:54:00.000-07:00

Sewer Flower

I spent a week in a crowded, Asian city where the sidewalks cracked. The sewer stench leaked out into the hot, muggy air. Out of a crack, grew a simple stalk, with one delicate flower. I touched it. It was as if that bright pink flower was the inspiration for all the luscious silks that come from that part of the world.

By the end of the week, the flower bloomed into a group of seven. It was thriving in a dirty, smelly world. It pulled nutrition from the defecation, and created from it a lovely fragrance. It didn't grow to be placed on the president's table, but for the pleasure of the person walking along the street.

There's something to learn from that small sewer flower. God chooses each of us to emit His fragrance to the people around us. It's easy to get disillusioned and bitter about the sin and corruption around us, but it's not the flower's job to point out the scum in the sewer; nor is it the flower's job to clean it up. It's the flower's job to take what little good there is from the sewer and be beautiful.

Freely give of the beauty He gave you until He transplants you to another street. And be careful not to suck up any of the bitterness from the sewer.

by Mindy Hirst (Spring 1999, edited Fall 2007)

Talks with Jesus

2007-08-18T18:27:00.000-07:00

Talks with Jesus

It’s beautiful to see her sitting, cool in her flowered dress. Still more beautiful to hear the soft murmur of her voice as she talks with Jesus. A comforting sound. The rhythm soothing. The love comforting. Strength flowing out of every word into lives. Lives so busy with living that a prayer seems a difficult task.

Her mirror’s edge crammed with snapshots—their names the essence of the simple poetry of her prayers. No one quite knows the effect of her constant dialogue in the lives of those faces. I’ve often wondered why on a particular day, in a certain situation, a prayer I never uttered was answered. Perhaps my name was mentioned in her daily talks with Jesus.

It’s beautiful to think of her now, face alight at Jesus’ side. So happy to see her, you can tell they’ve been talking for years. Now where were we? Oh yes. I can do that. And, yes. I will do that too. It’s so good to see you here. I love talking with you.

By Mindy Hirst

Our Word Shop Dream

2007-08-18T17:27:00.000-07:00

It was the first time away after our little treasure was born. After several hundred nights of bad sleep and the adjustment of not working together was mostly over, we walked alone in a small Midwestern rivertown. Here, we dreamed of a life away from the suburbs where somehow clear thoughts could form.

We built in our minds a little shop off a quaint street where we would work together again, helping authors with their own thoughts by creating a place where imagination and joy of communication could share a cup of coffee and a muffin. We called it our Word Shop.

Now, almost five years later, we still don't live in a rivertown, but clear thoughts are beginning to take shape. It seems to be the right time to begin to build a place online that echos the dream of that trip together. Maybe someday we'll build it with brick and tile...today we lay the foundation with words.