Dishes

Dishes are not my favorite.  However, we have four kids, and I enjoy cooking but hate a messy kitchen, so I do a lot of them.  Grudgingly.

In attempts to change my attitude, I have reminded myself of Brother Lawrence who worshipped God even in menial tasks.  And the whole bit about “whatever you do… do it as unto the Lord.”   A clip from the movie “Return to Me” will even run through my mind—the part when Grace’s grandfather tells her he is “blessed with work.”

I still loathe doing the dishes.   They just seem so overwhelming.  And infinite.

They didn’t bother me today.

You see, the back of my mind is haunted with these words, “Someone walked into a school and shot six-year-old babies.” 

I’m sorry if it seemed as though my last post was my way of wrapping it all up and moving on.  I promise I will write about other things another day, but for now I’m still stuck here.  So I write.

I have cried.  And cried some more.  And my heart is grieved.  And part of me feels like I don’t have the right to cry like that because my children are okay.

But I do not feel okay.

I taught those loveable, squirmy, sweet, enthusiastic, wide-eyed six and seven-year-olds.  Twice a week I now tutor them.  And two of my own are  first graders.  This all just hits so close to home.

The past two days I heard sirens drive past my house, and both days I wondered if they were going to my children’s school just down the road.  I sat next to my six-year-old in her school cafeteria today and felt like I couldn’t love her enough or drink in her first-grade ramblings deep enough for that half hour we shared.  When my third-grader jumped up to run out of the cafeteria to retrieve his forgotten jacket, I fought the feeling that he might not be safe going out that door.

I realize that school shootings do not happen every day.  But it did happen.  And sometimes in one way or another life is ripped away most prematurely and unexpectedly.

Today when I did the dishes, I felt so very grateful for the dishes of these children that I love so much.  One day these littles will no longer live in my house with their laughter and craziness and cuddles and mess, and that day may come sooner than I wish.

Peace?

Caught up in the busyness of the morning, I had forgotten about last Friday.  That is, until the radio jarred my memory on our drive to school.  Arriving home the awful tragedy was there again all over the internet.  Funerals for six-year-olds. Grieving parents.  Questions as to why.

And I wept and prayed.  For the children.  And their families.  And the brokenness of it all.  But to be honest, I also cried because it could have been one of my friends who teach, or my students, or even me or my children.

Christmas is just over a week away.  This season of the year supposedly marked by “peace on Earth and goodwill toward men,” seems so horribly marred by bloodshed and violence.  Our world is terribly broken, and that by our own doing.

And as a mother, I want to do everything possible to protect and shield my children from an unsafe world.  And at the same time, I know how utterly impossible that is.

Yet these words echo in my mind…

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. John 14:27

Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. Romans 12:21

Even as violence rocks our world and hope seems far from us, we must not allow evil to warp our hearts nor cause us to live in fear.  Let us instead shine as lights in the darkness.  Jesus went about doing good and healing all.  Jesus gives us His peace which does not fade in spite of the turmoil around us.  In the face of darkness, we must love as He loved, preach as He preached, heal as he healed, and pray as He prayed for God’s kingdom to come here on Earth.  We must be the hands and feet of Jesus to the people of a hurting and broken world.  Let us not only proclaim to be Christians by our words, but let our everyday lives impart the story of who Christ is by our actions.

Please do not interpret my words as a promise for safety or as a trite promise to bring world peace.  Quite the contrary, Jesus was betrayed by one of his own and crucified.  Many of the early followers of Christ were martyred and still more are martyred today.  We live in the tension between a fallen world where God’s redemption breaks through--yet not in its fullness. 

When I dropped my children off at school this morning, I prayed for them as I do every morning, even as my heart aches in sending them out into this world.  That they would learn more about God and the world that He made.  That they would know in their hearts how much He loves them.  And that their friends would see the love of Jesus in their words and in their actions.  

He is the only peace and hope that we can cling to.

The not-so-planned edition

On the off chance you haven’t noticed already, I am a planner—except for certain areas of my life in which the pendulum swings in the complete opposite direction, and I kind of slap something together last minute the best I can.

Children’s birthday parties fall into the aforementioned not-a-planner category.

Immediately after my oversight, I think about how I would like to be more on top of things next year, but the outcome is always the same:

One month before individuals birthday: Oh, so-and-so’s birthday is coming up.

Two-to-three weeks before said birthday: Ask child what they want to do for their birthday.

One week before birthday: Crap! So-and-so’s birthday is in a week!  I haven’t (called the location, sent invitations, planned or bought anything, let alone make any cutesy things from Pinterest).

This year one of my girls wanted to invite friends from school.  Read: mothers I don’t know attending the party.  And yes, I still went through above steps like I do year after year, inwardly cringing and trying not to worry about what they might think about our scaled down version of children’s birthday parties.  

To be completely honest with you, I have never been one to focus on presentation.  No one has ever accused me of emulating Martha Stewart.  If you come over, my house will be fairly clean and neat, and I will serve you delicious food.  However, I cannot promise that you will be served on cutesy plates or that my cakes, though delicious, will not be lopsided.  My girls’ hair will be brushed, but most likely not be braided, in a ponytail, or in any other stylish fashion.  And they may or may not be wearing perfectly matching clothes, because I’m okay with letting them dress themselves.

Our choices don't bother me until other people's eyes are watching. What will they think because we don't..?  I fear they are judging my mothering skills or my love for my children because we do life differently than they do.  And this little voice in the back of my head wants me to worry about everything not being "perfect."

Christmas is almost here.  More than any other time of year, the pressure is on to have the house just-so.  You absolutely must have a Christmas activity planned for each day, Elf-on-the-Shelf cleverly posed, a Jesse tree, Advent readings, homemade gifts for teachers and neighbors, 12 days of Christmas for your hubby, and the perfect gifts and crafts for your children.

“Too much of a good thing” is a very real possibility.  It's enough to make a sane person go mad.  I want you to stop.  Take a breath.  Step back.  What really makes your heart happy?  What adds value to your family?  Make these decisions based on your family, not mine or anyone else’s.  Let the rest go.  I promise you the world will not come crashing down around you.

The kids helped decorate the Christmas tree tonight.  This is one of my favorite Christmas traditions.  I love how the ornaments on the tree—popsicle sticks, glitter, and photos mixed with the more delicate items—tell the story of our family.  It may not look perfect, but it’s our masterpiece.  And there are only a few short years before this tradition is only a memory.

As far as the birthday party?  When asked, the birthday girl said it was “the best birthday party ever.”  I guess that puts it all in perspective.

The Journey

52 miles. 54 bridges. Most of them one-lane. Over 600 hairpin turns.  "It's about the journey not the destination," is the advice given by locals before starting the road to Hana.  Rounding one of the blind curves, plunging drop-off edging one side of the road and  brick wall the other, I thought we would surely die as an oncoming car raced by, narrowly missing us.

It's about that journey?

The one where I feel completely out of control?

The one where I wonder what will become of our children should we plummet to our death?

Yes, that one.

The one with hike-in waterfalls

gorgeous ocean views

My husband in front of one of the breathtaking views.

fresh pineapple juice with real sugar cane

tropical gardens

Seven Sacred Pools

and secluded drive back into the sunset.

But if you don't slow down and enjoy the journey you'll miss it.

Fresh in my mind is a September day three years ago. 

It was a day. Spilt milk. Dropped banana bread. Temper tantrum. Train. Late to work.  Students not following directions. Worked through lunch. Meeting at conference period. My own tired kids. Grocery store. Walgreens. Busy day. all. day. long. 

But something happened that night at the grocery store that helped, even if just a little.  The kids were cranky and fighting. Again. The bagger asked if I wanted help to the car--YES.  

But he didn't just push the car-cart out to the car. He pretended it was a real car and swerved and added sound effects and spun my kids around.  He left my kids begging, "Can we do that again next time?" and wanting to know his name.  I was tired and so done, and he made my kids' day.  And in doing so he made mine as well.

Sometimes we're so focused on the difficult road in front of us that we miss the views, the waterfalls, and all the other good along the way.  We forget about the joy in the journey.

The children's letter verse this week calls out to me from behind its magnet on the refrigerator  "Do everything without complaining or arguing so that you may become pure and blameless, children of God..." (Philippians 2:14-15)

You see, my tendency is to complain.  When the kids are here, it's too busy and chaotic.  When they're gone, it's too quiet and dull.  When my husband tells me he has to work late, my first reaction is one of discontent instead of thankfulness for God's provision.  Instead of living in the present moment, I look for something more or different.

When Paul told us to do everything without complaining or arguing, I don't think he said it with the intent of binding us to a religious rule.  I think he said it because he knew the bitter pill we swallow when we chose to wallow in discontentment.

Philippians 4:13 is often quoted, but we hear less frequently the verse before it, "I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.  I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty.  I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through Him who gives me  strength." (11-13)

God gives us strength for the journey.  Strength to find our contentment in Him and not our circumstances.  To thank Him for the good gifts He gives instead of complaining about the struggles.  So that we may become blameless and pure, His very own children.

The most political post I will ever write

I don't really want to write this post.  But these thoughts have been stirring in my head, and my heart is at unrest, and last night's conversation with friends seemed like confirmation that I should.

Here's the deal: I don't know that I really consider myself a Republican anymore.  Before my conservative friends get too bent out of shape, I don't consider myself a Democrat either.  I feel I cannot agree with either party straight down the line on each and every issue.

Additionally, I'm tired of both parties using God as a campaign strategy.  And I'm tired of Christians on either side of the fence blaming those on the other side and looking for a president to solve the moral issues with our country and right the social wrongs.

A donkey and an elephant make poor representations of the true Savior of the world.

When Jesus walked this earth, the Jewish people were looking for Him to overthrow the Romans and establish justice through an earthly kingdom.  But Jesus had something bigger in mind.  He knew that true change can't be enforced from the outside, regulated by man.  How many times did the Israelites botch that one?  

Change has to come from the heart.

Am I saying that Christians shouldn't vote or shouldn't vote according to what they believe?  Am I saying there is not right and wrong?  Absolutely not.  By all means, do the research, pray for God to give you wisdom, and vote.

What I am saying is this: maybe we focus too much on looking to a political candidate to solve the problems of this nation, when it is more important for us as individuals to live out the Gospel in our daily lives.  It is easier to point the finger at others or expect them to do the work for us than it is to take an honest look at how we ourselves are living.

Jesus said all of the law and prophets depend on this: to love the Lord our God with all our heart and to love our neighbor as ourselves.  That is the true hope for our world.

It's over, but not really

Funny how 7 weeks of challenges can stretch over an entire summer.  This was my second read of 7: an experimental mutiny against excess.  This past May I had just written a blog post about wrestling through some questions from the first chapter when I happened upon the blog hop for “Summer of 7.”  It seemed too convenient to be a mere coincidence, so I took the hint and jumped in, and just three months later, here I am at my final post.

This experience has been life-changing for me.   It came at a time when my heart was crying out, “I want to live more like Jesus.”  Which led me to the question, “How did Jesus actually live?” and motivated me to read through the gospels again.

If you want to have your heart wrenched out of your chest, I challenge you to do the same.  Start at Matthew.  Read a chapter a day.  Slowly, not like they’re the same words you’ve heard since you were a child.  Meditate on the words of Jesus.  Start letting Him guide you to actually live them.

I’m not saying that I have this all figured out or have the exclusive bead on what it means to live like Jesus.  But I am foolish enough to believe that I can change the world. And to try to accomplish just that.  I am fortunate to be a part of a church whose members already have the poor and hurting on their hearts, and who already reach out in so many different ways.  So I recruited the help of some of my dear friends, and here are some of the exciting things we’ve started:

Community Lunch- This month our small group teamed up with the Young Adults Small Group and the woman who does our Adopt-A-Block outreach to provide a meal for members of our body who are unemployed and underemployed.  We invited and brought people living in the run-down motels close to our church to come eat with us and worked on building relationships with them. 

We have as our example Jesus, who ate with the marginalized and the sinners.  He said to invite those who don’t have the means to repay you when you host a dinner.  (Luke 14:12-14) When you eat with someone, you share more than just a food.  You invite them to be a part of getting to know you and you them.  We loved it so much we’re going to keep doing it once a month.

Swap Meet- In just a couple of weeks our Women’s Council is hosting our very first Swap Meet to encourage people to purge their excess and share with others.  We are going beyond the traditional swap with friends and inviting all to participate whether or not they have stuff to share, using the early church as our example who shared with each other so that there was no one in need among them. (Acts 2:45)  Not only is this event reducing excess in the areas of possessions, spending, and waste, but is also another opportunity to show the tangible love of Christ to others.

I suggested the book to my friend who has hosted the Summer Book Clubs at our church, who in turn read it and forced encouraged others to read it.  She happens to make little girl’s dresses which are oh-so-adorable and an opportunity to serve others using her gifts fell into her lap.  (You can read more of her amazing 7 God story here.) Suffice to say that when I want to buy my girls new dresses, I will be calling her because that’s exactly the kind of person I want to support with my dollars.

Personally, I have made changes or am working through changes in all of the areas that Jen Hatmaker addresses in her book.  Not exactly the same way she did, but the way God is pulling and tugging at my heart to change.  I could probably make this post twice as long as it is right now, but let me sum up the rest for you.  Reading 7, reading the words of Jesus, and making a decision to actually do something about it has changed and is changing my life and the lives of my friends.  Because you know what, Jesus actually knew what He was talking about.

The Quiet

As of noon yesterday all of our children have left to go to their other parent’s. The quiet resounds. Time alone once anticipated now intrudes and bothers. Two whole hours and I can barely stand it. Sharing children is part of the unnatural aftermath of divorce, life oscillating between a roar and a whisper. 

I hide from the whisper. 

I long to fill the silence, to ignore its very existence, yet in the quiet is when the resolution comes. It’s when the Maker speaks His truth. 

What is there to be gained by filling it with meaninglessness? I know what He has for me, yet I push away instead of drawing closer. 

Do I fear what He might say? Do I not believe what He says? 

Or do I fear being alone and attempt to fill the silence to mask its existence? 

Trading the voice of Truth for a lie, I cling to the fear that I am abandoned. Unloved. Alone. In the quiet, I must face my own weakness. 

But the Father is asks me to let go. Release the hurt, fears, pain, lies, and shortcomings and accept His identity—to trade my ashes for beauty, my fear for His strength. 

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. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. 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?” (I Kings 19:11-13) 

It’s in the quiet that he calls to us. 

Soccer practice, church meetings, work, club meetings, committee meetings, classes, social events—we pack every single minute of every single day full of noise and busyness. Filling the quiet is our specialty. Lulls in conversation create such discomfort, we grasp at straws to avoid the silence with questions as to the weather or one’s health. 

Maybe it’s because we’re afraid. We’re afraid to answer the question, “What are you doing here?” Maybe if we just keep filling up our emptiness with more and more busyness we can avoid having to answer that question. 

Yet it is our Creator who holds the answer to that question, “What are you doing here?” He is the one who tells us our story. And He urges us to rest, to pause from the busy schedule and all of our labors and the noise and stress that goes along with it. 

To listen. 

And to hear His voice. 

To pray and to worship. 

So we can be renewed.

Spending

A few years ago I read about something called The Compact.  Participants pledge to not buy anything new for a year except for food, underwear, and health and safety items.  While I haven't jumped on that bandwagon, it did make me start to think about how many items we buy new when a perfectly good (and sometimes even better quality) used item is available.

Fast forward to not too long ago, I came across an article about children being forced to work as slaves to harvest cocoa beans.  And later I discovered issues of human exploitation related to many products we buy including bananas, coffee, sugar, and cotton--not to mention child sweat shops we've heard about over and over again.

Such knowledge necessitates change lest the haunting reality of our own enjoyment on the backs of others' suffering begins to eat away at our souls.  

Or maybe it just turns to numb indifference.

I am not even going to begin to debate world economics.  I realize that standards of living our different in other countries.  I also understand that what is a fair wage here needs to be translated into what is a fair wage in other countries.  Yes, I've also heard the every country must go through it's own Industrial Revolution.  My concern with that argument is that one is assuming that all things (trade, funneling of profits, etc.) in these other countries is the same or similar to that of the U.S. during it's Industrial Revolution.  I don't know that to be the case.

This is what I know.  I can't go shopping just for fun anymore.  I don't wander the aisles of Target to find something I might "need" that I didn't even know existed before I walked in the store.  I want to know where my purchases came from.  And I don't want to support human slavery with my dollars.

I am definitely not saying this is an easy pill to swallow.  It has taken some working out what we believe and how to actually implement our beliefs, and sometimes there isn't a really good option.  

These are some practical ways our family tries to be conscientious consumers that may help you as well:

1. Reduce purchases overall.  Do we really need it? Can we borrow it?  Do we have something else we can use instead?

2. Look for it used.  (There are certain items like underwear and tennis shoes that I will not buy used. I also look for things that are in good condition or can be easily fixed.)

3. Look for it from an ethical source or local vendor.  My husband and I debated on the preference of used over responsible or known merchant.  Practically speaking, a lot of the more socially responsible companies are more expensive.  That being the case buying used in combination with buying from an ethical source for the items we either can't find or don't want to buy used works out better for our pocket book. (betterworldshopper.org is a good resource for finding out how companies rate on social and environmental practices.)

4. Do what you can.  If we've gone through the previous options and haven't found what we need then we buy from a less desirable source.

Maybe it seems odd to refer to "beliefs" in light of spending.  God calls us to serve Him and love Him in everything we do.  And our life choices--all of them--should be a reflection of His love in us.  

What is God calling you to do?

It's really his anyway

Blatantly ripping off the style in which Jen Hatmaker starts Month 6, here is my financial story in a nutshell:

Once upon a time there was a girl who thrived on thriftiness.  Then she got married and never was on the same page with her husband about finances.  Later they divorced.  And she was a single mom who survived on thriftiness.  One day she met a man who was on the same page with her regarding finances, and they got married and had two incomes.  And he took over the books (Thank the Lord!), and she never worried and obsessed about the budget for two years.  Which wasn’t a problem because they both overall had a conservative mindset toward buying things.

Until one day she saw how much they spent on food in a month.  And she just about choked.

Ahem.

So my plan for spending week is to make a budget for the after-bills money.  I said I was going to do it three weeks ago.  And the week after.  And in the car on the way to my cousin’s out-of-state wedding. 

And I didn’t.

It’s not that I don’t know how to make a budget.  Believe me, I could make several variations of a budget based on whichever financial guru’s method you want.  And it’s not that I don’t know how to scrimp and save to stretch a dollar to make the food budget work.

But I don’t want to go back to that dark place of agonizing over every penny spent and freaking out over spending a few bucks (or cents) without going through mental acrobatics in order to justify the expenditure.

On the flip side, I do not want to be the girl who “eats” her money.  (That’s expensive poop.)   Or the girl who is so selfish in her spending priorities that she neglects those in need.

Throw into the mix that this month I get my last teacher’s paycheck and we are no longer a two-income family—so now we’ve decreased income and increased time.  I don’t consider myself an extravagant spender, but I could still do some serious damage without boundaries.

Which is another way of saying I need to make a budget.

But unlike the budgets I’ve made before, I want this one to have the end in mind of taking care of my family well and caring for others well—setting reasonable limits to our self-spending for the sake of living out what Christ called us to do.   And when you approach it from that perspective, a budget brings life, not death.

I started writing this last night, and let me tell you that every inch of me was kicking and screaming like a spoiled child resistant to actual work and change.

And then in Bible study my friend talks about God reaping out of what is His to begin with anyway.

And the word God gives me is overflow.

And I think that God is trying to tell me to be at peace that He provides more than enough.  God is asking me to use the overflow for His glory, not my own selfish end.  Which is still admittedly uncomfortable and different from a culture which says, “store it all up for yourself, you worked for it, you deserve it”—neglecting to give glory and respect to the God who gave us the ability to even earn it in the first place.

Moreover, when God gives any man wealth and possessions, and enables him to enjoy them, to accept his lot and be happy in his work—this is a gift of God.  Ecclesiastes 5:19

I'm going to go write that budget.

Plugging the Dam

Sometimes the fight against wastefulness feels like it just isn't enough.  In gathering my thoughts to write this post I was thinking of the little dutch boy with his finger in the dam.  Not actually knowing the story in full, I decided to Google it and this is the link I found. 


And this is the quote that jumped out of the page at me: "This story is told to children to teach them that if they act quickly and in time, even they with their limited strength and resources can avert disasters."

And so it is.


I previously shared some of my back story and the why of living "green."  Today I want to share some of the how.  I am a huge fan of taking baby steps and not beating myself up if I don't do it all "perfectly," whatever that means.  Any positive change is, well, positive change.


Six years ago, I decided to use cloth diapers. (Yes, there was research conducted that "proved" cloth isn't any better than cloth diapers.  The study was paid for by Pampers.)  I used them most of the time and had disposables as back up.  When I went back to work due to a family crisis, I put my daughter back in disposables because cloth diapering was way at the bottom of my list of priorities.


Six years ago, I also made a list of paper products that we could replace with cloth or reusable items.  (Paper towels, napkins, Kleenex, etc.)  The paper towel switch to rags was really easy (just grab a cloth towel instead), but I only finalized this transition in the last couple of years.


A couple of years ago we started gardening and hence began a compost pile.


We love to cook, and making food from scratch cuts way down on packaging waste.


Last summer I bought the kids and myself insulated stainless steel water bottles--so worth the money, that water stays COLD.


Last school year we switched from plastic baggies to sandwich wraps and snack bags that I bought from a local woman I found on Etsy. We are going to buy little stainless steel containers for wet items like cut-up fruit for this next school year.

The beginning of this year we decided to become a little more focused on cutting down waste and focused on fixing one item each month which led to:


Getting a system in place for remembering grocery bags
Reusable mesh produce bags
Reusable cloth bags for bulk items
Reusing spaghetti jars, etc for bulk peanut butter and for storing food (This one I am the most proud of because I spent weeks trying to figure out what to buy to store peanut butter in and then it suddenly occurred to me that I had this FREE option.)
Replacing freezer bags with towels and a pillow case for baked bread and reusable containers for other items
Being careful of how much waste we spent moving and spend working on our new house
Making our own cleaning products

We are still a work in progress.  Each month we continue to focus on one thing that we can change to reduce the amount of waste generate in our household.


I am that little dutch boy.  As are you.


Here are some websites that you may find helpful in your journey:


lifewithoutplastic.com
zerowastehome.blogspot.com
www.nurturedfamily.com
house cleaning recipes from mothering.com
www.bluelotusgoods.com

This Waster of Time

I'm backing up the train a bit.


You see, I sat down to write a blog post today about waste and decided to check Facebook "real quick" before writing.  Nearly two hours later--no blog post, and my kids' quiet time was over.


I have a problem.


My lack of self control in this area is so completely inconsistent with the way I handle many other areas in my life, including other outlets of media.  I enjoyed taking a break from it all a couple of weeks ago during media week.  After media week I had decided to make Sundays Facebook-free.  


And I did.  


And then I gorged myself on it the very next day.


I'm thinking I've missed the point.


Yesterday, my friend spoke at church.  During her message she mentioned Brené Brown's statement that "We are the most in debt, obese, addicted and medicated adult cohort in U.S. history."  She also discussed how much advertising effects us, selling us something beyond the actual product offered.


In the back of my mind I thought (and even said to my husband), "I'm so glad we don't have TV in our house."  (We have a TV, just no channels which means no commercials.)  I sometimes think to myself how great it is that I'm not addicted to Soaps or other Daytime TV.  Isn't it great that I'm not like those other Americans?


And then there's the internet.


Ahem.  Yes, I remember the parable about the Pharisee praying "God thank you I do all these great things and that I'm not like him (the tax collector)." Meanwhile the tax collector is praying, "God be merciful to me."  (Luke 18:9-14)  And I remember the so often quoted plank-in-your-own-eye bit. (Matthew 7:1-5)


My friend read the passage from when a lawyer asked Jesus what the greatest commandment was and Jesus responded, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the great and foremost commandment. The second is like it, ‘ You shall love your neighbor as yourself." (Matthew 22:35-40)  


Everything I do, feel, and think should be reflective of loving God. And I must love my neighbor as myself.  


When I waste time on things that don't really matter, I'm not really loving God, my neighbor, or myself.


I'm extending waste into this week to work on a few things I didn't finish last week and to include "time" by putting a boundary on those things that I allow to steal it.


I'm linking this one up under Media and Waste on our Summer of 7.  You're welcome to join in or just read what's going on at other blogs.  Just don't stay too long... ;).

Who cares about the earth anyway?

When Jen Hatmaker mentions in 7 the Christian shirt she wore growing up in the Bible belt of America, it brought back memories of my own experiences growing up.  I am embarrassed to admit that I bought and proudly wore a T-shirt which read “Save Forget the Whales, Save the People.”  Believe it or not, somewhere I had gotten the distinct impression that environmentalism and Christianity were two irreconcilable and opposing forces.  (On a side note, that T-shirt got some remarks from non-Christians at my school.  Surprise of all surprises, they weren’t asking to go to church with me on Sunday.)

My journey in becoming “more green” started a several years ago while reading The Tightwad Gazette.  Amy Dacyczyn that environmental efforts and frugalness often go hand in hand—that being resourceful and reusing is actually quite helpful to the environment, (maybe even more so than running out and purchasing all the “green” products now advertised…)

Reading this book started the wheels turning in my mind and led me to think about replacing paper products in our home to save money and cut down on our wastefulness.   (I’ll share specifics in a later post.)  I started researching alternatives to paper towels, napkins, etc, and came across a blog written by a Christian lady who, from what I could tell by reading, really loves Jesus and is also environmentally conscious.  Shocking.  This discovery caused me to start to think about whether or not Christianity and environmentalism in and of themselves really were at odds with each other.

And here is where I landed:

God created this Earth and all of its living creatures.  God put man in charge of the earth and its living creatures.  And while I do not believe putting the earth or its creatures in a place of worship (above God or people), I also feel that many Christians have missed the mark when it comes to being good stewards of what God has created.  To be perfectly blunt, wastefulness, squandering, and inhumane living conditions for animals are not Biblical values.  However, being faithful with what one’s been given, responsibility, servant leadership, and compassion are valued in scripture.  Proverbs 12:10 even tells us that a righteous man takes care of his animals.

Which leaves me with the following questions:

Why is it that we would be outraged if a house guest wasted our food and money, trashed and dirtied our home and broke our possessions, yet we feel as if we have no responsibility whatsoever to properly care for and manage the home God made for us?  Why would anyone else want to follow a God whose followers squander the world that they claim He made with absolutely no regard for how their actions affect others?

Regardless of how others may have turned environmentalism into a religion in and of itself, as a Christ-follower, indifference and apathy just don’t cut it with respect to wastefulness.   God cares how we use what He's given us.

Facebook and "The Deception" Re-post

So I haven't blogged in a couple of weeks. Moving turned out to be all-consuming (big surprise), and I just needed a week of to settle into the new "normal."


And last week was media week.


We spent the entire week in New Hampshire at a Bed and Breakfast on a sustainably managed farm. Be still my beating heart.  It was wonderful.  (I have so much to say about this trip, but later.) And guess what was nowhere in sight? A TV and a computer (although my husband  did bring his I-pad and I had my I-phone which I barely used).  Glorious!!!  I mean, why would you even want to ruin such a vacation with media?

Part of the view of the farm from the Inn

To be truthful, I am not an avid TV-watcher, however, I can waste hours of my life on the computer reading blogs, "researching," and Facebooking. 


Therein lies the problem.  Not only do I allow the internet to suck my time away searching out things that I actually should be doing something about, I easily fall into the trap of comparison: A) All of my friends are having fun without me;  B) More people like her than me; or even C) More people read his/her blog than mine, I must not be good enough.  (Shocking, I know.) A break from the monster that is the Internet and the internal dialogue in my head was definitely a good thing.  


The conclusion I have come to is that my Internet time definitely needs some boundaries so that it does not morph into a twisted addiction.  In the spirit of waste week, which for me started yesterday, I'm going to "recycle" my original blog post which speaks to these heart issues. :)



The Deception


It's Easter.  The girls are dressing and getting their hair curled. I reach for my hair dryer to straighten out mine and realize the irony of it all--blowing hair straight only to curl it again in less-natural curls.  Trading my God-given curls my own daughters long to have. 

I think of my brown-eyed, brunette daughters wishing for golden locks, while my blue-eyed blond daughter covets the formers’ dark tresses. I remember my own childhood longing to look and be like someone else.  We are experts at disvaluing our own beauty and talents.  What we have is not enough.  It’s the same lie man has fallen for time and time again.  God is holding out on us.

“Love does not want what belongs to others.”

The Scripture from Corinthians read at our dining room table just last night echos in my mind.

And then the lie goes deeper.  Who we are is not enough—not pretty enough, not smart enough, not funny enough, not kind enough, not brave enough, not lovable enough.  We are hopeless failures.

On the surface this lie appears to be a lack of self-confidence—a bought of self-depreciation that can be solved with a self pep-talk or the like.  Yet this lie goes deeper.  It is a rejection of the God who created us.  It is an unwillingness to trust our Maker with who He has created us to be.

For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. (Ephesians 2:10)

I pause and return the hair dryer to the drawer.  Today I choose to embrace the curls God’s given me—to be comfortable in my own skin. I open my hands to let go of the striving to be like someone else and to be at peace in who God has created me to be.


A mere two days passed.  


That voice whispered in my ear again.  The one that says I'm not enough and no one likes me.  That feeling of being on the outside of the circle slithered its way into my heart—such an old familiar self-loathing codependent friend.

I know better than to listen, but struggle to overcome the thoughts.   These demons have haunted me since I was a child.  I remember thinking in elementary school that everyone liked my best friend and not me.  When I finally confessed my fears to her one day, she responded that she thought everyone liked me and not her.   The house of cards fell that day, but the seed of deception still remains.  It creeps in like a weed, and I have to root it out again and again.

These lies are barely affected by recalling mere facts such as the realization that just last week I had a girls night with some friends.  Or that I just spent Easter with all my family.  Or that my husband and kids love me dearly.  Nor does reciting a list of friends help.

In the midst of my battle the scripture flashed in the back of my mind again.

Love does not want what belongs to others. 

Oh, but I don’t want what belongs to others.  They can keep their cars and houses and clothes.  I don’t care about all of that.  I just envy their giftings.  And their friendships.  And their…  ouch.

 And then the Father gently questions,

“What if you really are alone and unloved by others?  Am I enough for you?”

Oh. Ummm, good question.

“Why are you looking for others approval to fill you?” 

I don’t have an answer.  At least not a good one.

And then He reminds me—again—that He has created me to be me and no one else.  He tells me that He needs me to use the gifts that He has given me because that’s my part to play.  He asks me if I trust Him with the cup He has given me—if I trust Him with my story.

The danger in the lies is that my reaction is to want to run and hide. To bury what I’ve been given for fear of hurt and rejection.  It seems easier to be a carbon copy or two-dimensional rather than risk going deep.  Like the man of the parable who buried his talents, I too want to shrink back in fear, and bury my gifts deep in the sand.

And there it is. The sin of self-preservation.  When Jesus said whoever wants to follow me should deny himself and pick up his cross. 

So denying myself looks like taking my eyes off myself and watching Jesus, listening to what the Father’s story is for me.  It means thinking about reaching out to others instead of worrying what they think of me.  It means I trust God with His timing and don’t become anxious when it’s not the same as others.  I must shift my focus from myself and allow God to tell me my story.

Purging

This will be my fourth move since 2007. I realized this the other night before drifting off to sleep.  In these last five years I have, moved, provided home daycare, separated, went back to work as a teacher, divorced, moved to an apartment, met my husband, married, moved, and joined two families, quit teaching, and now am packing to move once again.

This is not just a purging week for me. It has been a purging month.  I have made at least four trips to the Goodwill, and I have another pile next to the door.

Make no mistake about it, I am a purger by nature and actually am thrilled to regularly look through my closets, bookshelves, and other hiding places to rid myself of items no longer cherished or needed.  But this purging is a little different.  Because after you finish the initial sweep to eradicate unwanted items and pack a box or two, you realize that there is actually more stuff still lurking, some of it awkwardly shaped items that you have no idea how to pack, some of it items belonging to your husband of uncertain identity and usefulness.  Just when you think you are finished, something else creeps up that must be dealt with properly.

It is somewhat like that point in time when you stop just being angry at someone else and start to deal with your own “stuff” that has put you in a difficult place to begin with.  Layer upon layer of hurts and lies-believed-truths must be faced and dealt with.  It’s when your spouse or friend says or does something that triggers the wound-buried-deep-thought-forgiven-and-forgotten.  “Oh, you’re still there?”  And it takes a great deal of perseverance to continue to address the issues and hurts that arise as you walk through life because it’s really easier just to fill the time with something else—anything, really, that will keep you from having to actually deal with what is inside you.

We pack this “stuff” deep into the hiding places of our hearts, so it will never see the light of day.  But light is exactly what it needs to see.  To see the light of God’s healing Truth which robs the lie of any power it once held.  Lain at the feet of Jesus, our insecurities, fears, and sins don’t matter.  We can give them away to one who washes us clean and heals our brokenness.

What lies have you held on to as if they were treasures?  What have you packed away in your heart instead of God’s Truth?  Listen to the song below and take these questions to Him.

Clothing and Insufficiency

Let me tell you that wearing only seven clothes for seven days was not a huge deal for me.  I liked not thinking about what I should wear and having very little laundry.  When I picked out my clothes from the rest of my closet this morning for the first time in a week, I almost felt disappointed that I needed to take the time to decide what I was going to wear. True story.  


When I was in college, we used to watch people (mainly girls) walk by and joke about what their major could be based on the their attire.  For example, a button-down blouse tucked in to a straight black skirt was most likely a business major, however, a long flowing earthy or jean skirt with a T-shirt and no make-up was probably a missions major.  Sounds awful and judgmental, but in truth we didn't mean any harm by it.  We were just 20-year-olds a bit full of ourselves with too much time on our hands between classes.


I'm letting you in on this little dark secret of my past to help you understand me when I say that I fall in between these two aforementioned categories.  I don't really want to look like a missions major (at least not most of the time), but I don't actually care enough to want to look as polished as a business major all of the time either.  Maybe this could be explained by the fact that I was actually a business major interested in missions who ended up becoming a bilingual education teacher after college.  I have the makings of a fashion identity crisis, people, somewhere in between not caring at all and extremely polished and put-together.


Despite (or maybe because of) my mostly nonchalant fashion perspective, I still had clothes lurking in my closet that I a) never wear b) don't like or c) shouldn't wear because it's too worn out.  It's so easy to tell my husband that shirt looks hideous, you need to get rid of it, yet not always so easy to motivate myself to do the same.  I'm envious of Bea at Zero Waste Home with her paired-down wardrobe.  I don't know that I could get mine quite that small, but I have done some purging this week (again) and have come up with a basic guideline:


7 tank tops (I live in Texas, people.)
7 short-sleeved tops
7 long-sleeved shirts
7 dress pants
2-3 sweaters
3-4 jackets
7 dresses
7 shorts/skirts/capris
5 work-out outfits
3 T-shirts
2 pairs pajamas per season


I actually have one or two more in a few of those areas, and I don't plan to get rid of the extra unless I don't wear them or they wear out.  The numbers are more-so a basic guideline to help me know when to say, "Enough."  When I think, "I have nothing to wear." I can take a hard look at what is actually in my closet and say, "No, I have enough," or, "Yes, I need to replace some things."


There is one little problem with this plan: I have had this basic wardrobe plan in the back of my mind for a while.  But then something happens walking through a store when I see CLEARANCE in red.  Especially when it's children's clothing.  The kids might need clothes so they're not running around half-dressed or naked.  (I have actually muttered in my head while walking through Target, "Curse you, Target and your inexpensive and cute but irresponsibly manufactured clothing," while avoiding said clearance racks.  More on this to come during spending week.)


This is a hard habit to break.  Because it's tied to fear.  Fear that if I don't buy the clothes now when they're on sale, I might not have enough to buy the clothes later when we need them.  Or, even worse and more of a reality for me, I might have to buy us clothes at full-price, and I will have completely failed in my responsibility as a mother to stretch our dollars for every penny they're worth.   You see, it's really all about me and my insufficiency and inadequacy as a mother.


Wow.


Which is why I need to hear the Father's voice saying, "I am your sufficiency."  And why I need to lay down my striving to be considered "enough" and allow Him to be "more than enough."


To put practicality to walking that out, I also feel like I need a boundary. Starting now, we're only buying clothes twice a year: October or November for fall and March or April for spring/summer with a couple of items for stockings/presents at Christmas.  Not to begin this with a whole list of caveats, but if a REAL need arises in between or the kids need a shirt for school or activities in between shopping I am not going to be the clothes Nazi. (Maybe I should recite that phrase over and over in my head.)

Harder than I thought

After much deliberation, I have narrowed my wardrobe down to seven clothes for the week.  (Wondering what I'm doing? Read this and/or this.  Wondering why I'm doing this?  Amy Bennett at Permission to Peruse explains it well here.)


Here is my list in no particular order:


One tan tank top
One pair of blue shorts
One pair of work out shirts
One gray T-shirt
Green sundress
Sandals
Tennis Shoes


My initial thought was to go for mix and match, but then realized there isn't a whole lot of mix-and-matching to be done with seven items--especially when workout clothes take up three of those items.  However, since I am counting my workout clothes, I've decided not to count my bathing suit should we go swimming this week.  It's really more like underwear which also doesn't count, right?


I also considered leaving the sandals out and going barefoot when I didn't want to wear tennis shoes, but I have a couple of things this week that I need to look somewhat presentable for (hence the sundress) and I don't want to wear my pink and neon green work out shoes to those appointments.  All of this to say I thought this would be easier as I am not a fashonista.


During this week I am also going to be purging our clothes closets, again, and my dresser drawers which always seem to get overlooked.  I have some other long-term ideas regarding wardrobes floating around in my head, but I think I will save those for the wrap-up post at the end of this week.


For now, I will tell you that I am wondering what my hubby's reaction will be if I ask him to choose seven of his favorite T-shirts and get rid of the rest...

Giving it up

I almost had a break down over food Tuesday night.  It came out in our dinner conversation that Ben had taken two of children who were already finished with school out to lunch. Which really isn't a big deal in and of itself.  Except that this past weekend we went to the grocery store and bought 3 pounds of lunch meat (which we rarely buy) and other items to feed our family lunch, and when I balked at the amount of meat he was buying he said that he would eat it this week because he would be home with the girls.  Plus, we had plenty of leftovers and other food in the fridge.  And he just took them out to eat the day before.


I wanted to let it go. But it really bothered me.  Because just a month or so ago he told me we needed to watch our spending because we are buying a house this month.  My little brain flew into survival mode--no spending on anything unless absolutely necessary and avoid eating out as much as possible.  The two days in a row of eating out were more than I could handle.  I'm also going to blame it on the fact that I went to Target twice last weekend and even Wal-mart the night before, two stores I try to avoid like the plague, especially the latter.


Lest you misunderstand me and think that I am bashing my dear sweet husband, let me explain that he is a very caring man who is actually conscientious of his spending and is extremely supportive and even on the same page with me 99.9 percent of the time in all of my glorious craziness.  And lest I come across as a saint and completely innocent in this account, I myself ate out with my girlfriends Wednesday night and then again with others Thursday for lunch.  But it's okay when I decide to eat out, and I don't need anyone to question my choices, thank you very much.  


Hello, my name is Alison, and I'm a hypocritical control freak. (Sorry, Ben.)


Anyhow... as Ben and I discussed the situation after dinner with myself on the verge of tears (dramatic, I know), I discovered two things.  First off, we had a slight communication issue on what "watching our spending" means.  Second, as we are trying to understand each other (because we have had the conversation on eating out for lunch before, and it completely mystifies me why he will go to get a sandwich from Subway when there are leftovers in the fridge), I came to the realization that I think about food. all. the. time.


What are we going to eat for dinner this week?


What am I going to feed the kids for snack?


Have the kids packed their lunch for school?


What am I going to pack for school?


What am I going to fix for breakfast?


Do we need to take a snack or a water bottle?


It seems that as soon as one meal is finished I'm thinking and planning the next.  In my defense I get really, really cranky when I'm hungry, and so do my kids.  Maybe this is a normal mom-thing.  From birth your primary responsibility is feeding your child. every. two. to. three. hours.


But then again maybe I go overboard and get a little OCD on this one.  And doesn't this sound a lot like my post from a couple of weeks ago???  Which leads me to believe I still need to address some things in the food department.


Going through this first week of the Summer of Seven, I've decided that I want to focus on each item for a week as planned, but then also have a take-away to either continue or start for a specific period of time.  This is my plan to try to undo some of this mess inside me:


I'm not writing a menu plan for the next week.  As a general rule, I'm only going to think about the food that is needed for today.  


I'm not making a big weekly trip to the store for the rest of the month with perfectly-planned-out grocery list in hand.  Instead we will base our meals off of what's in the pantry and fill in any gaps as needed on a daily basis. We will continue our bi-weekly produce coop and milk/egg run. (To be honest with you, this one is partly motivated by our upcoming move. Nevertheless, not having a detailed plan for groceries is a definite challenge for me.)


We will give generously and lovingly to those who do not have enough to eat as part of the way we do life.


Finally, I'm giving up worrying about food.  Easier said than done.  However, when I feel myself going down that path, I'm going to give it to God and ask Him to change my heart.