The months pass by so quickly

Somehow the months of October and November rolled by with the blink of an eye.

Volleyball finished, and I cried a bit, and I ran through Senior Night with a gallop and remember trying to talk to everyone but feeling like I ignored everyone. I struggle with making sure I have quality time and talk to those people who came just to support K. We had quite a turnout, from church and from her group of friends. But I have a senior board to show for it. And it's kind of falling apart.

Homecoming came and went, with a bit of drama. We'd wondered if court would be part of the equation, and it wasn't, but the hard part is that she couldn't attend the game because there was a homecoming tournament. Still, I got to see one of K's best friends crowned queen, which was great.

I visited Chicago and saw my new niece and totally bonded with the old niece. Ha. Well, she's really my two-year-old niece. I can play a mean game of play-doh, and know how to ring a rosy with the highest quality. She adored that. We also took a walk and two days later, she was recounting to her mom about how I ran past the ducks. And cried. Which didn't happen but I did run. She also has a love affair with the moon, which I think is hilarious. She is plotting ways to get there, I think.

I am trying to plan a wedding, a Disney/Universal trip, an 18th birthday party, and a trip to Chicago for Thanksgiving. I think I'm way behind on all of it.

I actually went camping with some friends in freezing temps and survived! We had smores, drove around in a Polaris, and heard coyotes from afar. Scared the daylights out of us.

K and I went to a UA homecoming game yesterday, and while it wasn't a hard game, it was fun and she told me she actually enjoyed spending time with me. I feel like that is very unusual because most of the time she seems frustrated with me. Okay, that's an exaggeration...she is either frustrated, getting advice, or laughing her head off.

And that's the way this fall has rolled.

Volleyball takes over

Yes, I've been in volleyball land.

Twice a week. And more; some weekends have had two days' worth. And always, four weeks into the season, there is frustration, there are tears, and a desire for it to all be over. This season, there has been frustration over leadership, a sadness due to high expectations that didn't pan out, and anger over coaching styles.

What's a mom to do? Watch, encourage, dig deep, pray, make sure there's enough gatorade available, and cheer til I'm hoarse.

There is a joy and heartache of having a teenager that is so deeply honest and so transparent about her likes and dislikes. But I also know the calm and sheer rage that comes from parenting a teenager that is very guarded and quiet and won't let you in. Parenting teens really is a spiritual battle. You feel like you fight it every day. What's funny is that I truly do believe that God is the one that gives us strength for this, but I try to muster it up myself. It's like I'm trying to shovel my way out of a deep hole sometimes, while I listen, empathize, argue, yell, and encourage. With the first, the discussions/fights/moments were there, but with no experience under my belt. I was at a loss and "just kept swimming" with a blindfold on. With the second, I try to keep swimming but it's like there are huge sharks all around, waiting to capture our peace of mind. Then I remember to lean, lean, lean on who is watching over us and pray for grace. Grace for the moment, grace for the right words, grace to apologize, grace to know who guides me. The thing is, when they are little, I thought, "will they remember this? There will be other opportunities to make a difference, let's just move on." At the age they are now, I feel like these moments are fleeting, and there is all this pressure I put on myself to get it right.

This week, there is anxiety over homecoming court. If she doesn't make court, she will have to play in a volleyball tournament and skip homecoming. This is the choice she made before the season started. Tough one for a girl who wants the high school memories to be special, fun, and good. I remind her that she will do the right thing, whatever happens. Because she knows who guides her. And so another day goes by, another conversation that should be easy but feels fraught with importance, another set of words that I hope will be used for the best.

The extraordinary in the ordinary

I must admit that lately I've been waking up in the middle of the night and having a hard time going back to sleep because I keep thinking I haven't done my job as a mom. I see myself in about 11 months, dropping K off at college, and wondering what happened.

It's enough to give you nightmares.

My immediate family is one of deep thought. We aren't going to be satisfied with a simple answer. And I know that when we struggle, we deeply struggle. We want to understand the whys, the hows, and for whom. We look ahead to what we want to do, what we want to be, and who we want to glorify. Sometimes we forget to enjoy where we are.

KK and I have been talking about where she wants to go for college. She has a deep love for God, knowing she strays from that, and she doesn't always trust that He will keep her and allow her to persevere. But she tries. And she's thinking hard about missions. She wants to make a difference. I love that. The fact that she has this desire, this deep caring, in spite of my weaknesses as a mother, is a testament to God's faithfulness.

M has been pursuing a nursing degree, and this semester is her first intense semester in a program that accepts only 4.0 students. She keeps on going, knowing she's a little unsure, but stepping forward in faith after having had three years at school where God worked out so many things in her, and built a community of believers around her, which she desperately needed. Again, God is faithful.

I have dear friends that have moved across this continent to an urban area, one where there aren't many believers, but where the need for the gospel message is great. They are stepping out on faith, knowing there are uncertainties, knowing God must provide financially, knowing that God must protect their children, yet knowing God has been faithful in providing all of this so far.

I have friends who have lost loved ones, who also have stepped out in faith, and I see evidences of God's glory in their lives.

I have known since I became a single mother what God wanted me to do. He wanted me to raise these girls, as imperfectly as I have been, and allowing my mistakes in His providence. And I wonder what I will do when that moment comes, when I drop the youngest off. It will be hard.

I have been reading in the latest TableTalk magazine about the ordinariness of the Christian life. It's so un-American. It's definitely not about "Your Best Life Now." Its about 1 Thessalonians 4, when Paul talks about what pleases God: "9Now concerning brotherly love you have no need for anyone to write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love one another, 10for that indeed is what you are doing to all the brothers throughout Macedonia. But we urge you, brothers, to do this more and more, 11and to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you, 12so that you may walk properly before outsiders and be dependent on no one."

I love that. God will provide the purpose. We live quietly. RC Sproul, Jr. says, "We do not need special skills or special opportunities to do extraordinary things for the kingdom. We need only to serve our extraordinary Lord in ordinary ways. And He will and does bless that service. We don’t need another hero. We change the world one diaper at a time. For of such is the kingdom of God." - see the link here. 

A Potential Covenant

I'm engaged.

Ha. That sounds so funny to me. Maybe because it feels unexpected.

I'm enjoying saying it. Twenty-two and a half years ago, I didn't say it or enjoy it like I should have. Now it makes me feel genuinely happy...and sappy.

We'd gone to Birmingham to spend a fun day there. I'd twisted my ankle the day before, and wasn't even sure if I was up for a day of activity. We went canoeing, though, and throughout the day he was considerate in making sure I didn't walk too much. We had a picnic lunch and cruised over the lake easily, with minimal interruption from others at Oak Mountain. We cleaned up and headed to Nadeau, a hipster furniture market in Homewood. We walked along a sidewalk sale and made fun of all of the art deco furniture, and sat in air-conditioned stores when we got a chance. We headed to Landry's for dinner, where we had a very blunt waiter who didn't seem like he liked us, which was bothersome to me because of course I assume that everyone will like me. But I didn't spend a lot of time worrying about it; we just enjoyed the dinner and got mini-desserts to consume - I inhaled a creme brulee. We got back to Tuscaloosa, took a walk on the Riverwalk, and it was then that he dropped to one knee and said, "Will you marry me?"

To which I replied, "Is this for real?"

After a moment of disbelief, I said "YES" and all of a sudden I became engaged. A future Mrs. I knew that life would be changing. We have since discussed it with our respective children, our families, and our friends. I refuse to announce this on Facebook, it seems so impersonal, so social media. I like to see people acting so happy when I tell them. What a gift.

But truly, this is a small gift compared to some of the other gifts that come from a marriage. It's been so long since I've really thought about saying "we" or "us" when it comes to matters of domesticity, like buying a car, or selling a house, or planning a vacation, it's been "me" for so long. And as a mom, I had responsibility on my shoulders to try to do these things wisely, to spend within a budget, to make sure the girls were well taken care of. I can't explain how that weighs on you - and I knew it was something God had in control, but as a sinner saved by grace on this side of heaven, it still was - and is - incredibly hard. Today, I was talking with Randall about buying a car, about what "we" thought about our options and about what would fit in "our" life, and it made me weep in gratitude.

The covenant we will make will be hard. It will be something we will want to break; I know this. But we trust in the One that keeps covenants, that He will guide us and keep us. How amazing!

RYM

Over two weeks ago, I was the adult chaperone for our senior high youth on their summer beach trip to RYM. RYM has been the pinnacle event of the summer for my daughter K, who came home two years ago in a deep depression because it was over. Last year was not quite so dramatic. So I waited to see what the reaction to this year's event would be, especially with me in tow.

What a trip! I think I had more fun than she did this year because it was new to me, and I had no expectations. We got there Monday afternoon relatively early for youth groups. It was me, K, her friend Jamie, Ally, and another chaperone, Maryann in the girls group. There were two youth guys and two male chaperones. Girls and boys had separate rooms, and we settled in very quickly. We had a room with 9 beds, two which were full size, and we knew we'd get roomies. And they arrived very quickly, from New Brauntfels, TX. Thankfully they were nice!

The days were fairly structured but still had lots of room for different activities. In the mornings, we'd eat, then go to two lessons, and then eat again. The afternoon was free time, and then we'd eat again, and have our final lesson. I went to all of the lessons, all of the meals, and participated as much as possible. Realize that I never had this type of activity as a youth. But, of course, I wasn't a youth. Ha.

The lessons were a bit hit and miss. The first class we had on college prep was okay, but not life changing. Could have skipped it. The second class on "Sex, Dating, and Marriage" was actually really great. The teacher was pretty charismatic and had three teenage daughters and knew exactly what he was talking about. I didn't ask questions at all on the first day but of course I did on the second day. None of the kids really wanted to talk, which surprised me, but then I realized...they were youth. And I was not. Ha.

The evening study was, in a word, awesome. We reviewed scripture from Revelation and discussed hope. Why do we hope? What is it that makes us different?

And the afternoons at the beach...you can't get much better than sitting in the sand with a book and just enjoying the waves. The unique thing was that I was surrounded by girls in one-piece bathing suits, which quite honestly is unheard of. Girls don't do that anymore! And getting to know these youth and hanging out with them, watching them play b-ball, get in the ocean, talk with them about deep topics, have prayer time with them and by myself...it was really amazing. Seriously...an unexpectedly wonderful week.

Visit From the Sis

My daughter commented that I hadn't written much lately. She's right. I haven't felt like I had anything to say. But the point of this blog was not to have something to say, but to remember what happened. I have a hazy memory. There is a lot I don't remember - the fine details of life, really - and this was meant to keep those, but it also has recorded some philosophical, theological, and emotional thoughts too. Those can be necessary sometimes.

Regardless, I have a few memories of this summer that need to be recorded. And the most recent memory is a visit from my sister.

My sister Kavitha and I have never been really really close. She and I are opposite personalities. Where I am serious, she's accepting. Where I am joking, she's either matter of fact or she might be negative. Where she is hard-working, I'm lackadaisical. We both love each other though and come from the same place, which gives us a sense of connectedness.

She brought her daughter to visit last Friday. We ate and watched fireworks that day and she got to hear the call of a bullfrog, well, 10000 bullfrogs, and it surprised her and her daughter because she'd never heard them like that before. The song of the bullfrog combined with the sweltering humidity made for the perfect southern backdrop to the fireworks that couldn't be missed.

The next day, my daughter K took her daughter swimming, while I fought with my parents (also visiting) at Sam's about the way I am so scatterbrained at times. We were searching for a new phone for mom, who probably wants a smartphone but decided to go with a flip phone. That evening, my sister and I cooked together, and we made burgers. That turned out to be a bit of a disaster too, since the burgers went up in flames and the house nearly burned down. She helped me put the fire out and it turns out she's great to have around in a crisis. We also watched Charlotte's Web as a family together because my niece has to read that for school next year. Apparently in California even third graders get assigned summer reading.

On Sunday, we went to the McWane Center together, and it was a special time because my parents enjoyed it as much as the girls did. Dad made sure to lie down on the bed of nails, but we had to steer him away from all of the electromagnetic interactive displays due to his heart device. "Oops, Dad, stay away from that, you might die!" Still, K pronounced it the best day ever, she really enjoyed all of the different science activities, and I even petted a stingray. K also tried to buy food for the homeless man on the street, which I always deny her. K's heart is big. We pitstopped at PF Changs on the way home and I realized the extent of what my sister has to deal with: my niece has nut and seed allergies, and we had to get a special menu for her. Apparently a LOT of things that restaurants make are with nut-based oil or seeds.

They had fun times the next few days at VBS, at Krispy Kreme, at CHOM, which I had to miss all of because I had to work. We did have a great dinner on Monday night, even though mom seemed skeptical of the blackened catfish, but we had fun making it. We also looked through old pictures together. Since it was summer, both of my daughters were able to entertain them; I am glad that they got to spend time with my girls because my sister hasn't done that in a while. And what a joy it is to spend time with a 7-year-old. I love that age, and it just so happened that it was my niece!

The Cost of Discipleship

I just finished the Eric Metaxas biography on Dietrich Bonhoeffer. I'm feeling introspective, which is a good thing after finishing a book.

I love biographies. But it was more than a biography, in some ways. It testified to Bonhoeffer's love for Christ and how it drove him to do the things he did in the face of true evil. For such a young man, what wisdom is to be gained from him:

“Being a Christian is less about cautiously avoiding sin than about courageously and actively doing God's will.”

“Silence in the face of evil is itself evil: God will not hold us guiltless. Not to speak is to speak. Not to act is to act.”

“Judging others makes us blind, whereas love is illuminating. By judging others we blind ourselves to our own evil and to the grace which others are just as entitled to as we are.”
― The Cost of Discipleship

“In normal life we hardly realize how much more we receive than we give, and life cannot be rich without such gratitude. It is so easy to overestimate the importance of our own achievements compared with what we owe to the help of others.”
―Letters and Papers from Prison

What can I say about this? I think of the cost he paid, but also of how he lived his life. I do not mean to compare his life to Christ's. He is a fallen man. The fascinating thing is that God placed Bonhoeffer in the exact time and the exact place he needed to be, in Germany, as a deeply devout Christian, and one who would resist the Nazi evil in both word and deed. In many ways I feel like how he approached life is exactly the answer to what Francis Schaeffer asked, "How Shall We Then Live?" How should we approach life, as Christians? It is one thing to love Christ in word, but how do we love Christ in deed?

I am not dealing with Hitler in my day-to-day. So how do I apply this to myself? I'm a mom, a manager at an insurance software vendor, I'm a daughter, a sister, a friend, a girlfriend. I'm not a missionary, a tract giver, a church planter.

And here's what I realize.

Christ is here through it all. I learn of my own sin, my own weaknesses, my own inabilities in these roles. I learn that I want to be defensive, that I get frustrated, that I seek material comfort, that I desire my own gain, that my sin penetrates everything I do. And I know I have much to learn, that Christ has so much more work to do in my heart, and I am not really close to learning just a bit of what Dietrich learned in his life. That Christian fellowship draws us closer to Him and that we need it. That building up others for the sake of Christ is its own reward. That the shackles of this life are really okay, and they are meant to drive us to seek him, and we actually need them. This world cannot be lived in a glass tower, but we must be a part of it and we cannot separate ourselves from it because we must irrevocably learn from it, and we really do not have to separate ourselves because nothing, no nothing, separates us from the love of Christ Jesus. 

Repentance and Recognizing What I am Incapable of

I had another hectic week.

Prom was coming up, my sister's 40th birthday was coming up, work deadlines are ever-present, a pancake breakfast was occurring without me but I was trying to prep ahead of time for what I could do, I'm in the middle of teaching a youth bible study, the Tax deadline loomed, and I had other sporadic things going on. 

I inevitably let people down, and even more, let myself down with things that I thought should be done. I didn't ask my daughter how her school trip went; I didn't have a present to take to my sister; and I apparently didn't tell anyone at church that I wouldn't be at the pancake breakfast.

One thing I feel that I am learning this last year is that while I say I'm fallen, I need grace, and I love that Jesus gives me the kingdom of heaven, I still live like I can be superwoman and that I should be more organized so I can get everything done. Yes, I do need to delegate more, and yes, lists are something I am not good at and want to get better at, but I feel like sometimes that my lack of ability to do this makes me a less-than-perfect Christian. 

There is no such thing as a perfect Christian.

Lists will not make me better. I want to get better at them, but that's not sanctification.

Delegation will not make me a better leader. I want to show others they can handle responsibility, but that's not sanctification.

Having an organized, well-designed house will not make me fit into Southern culture. Jesus makes me fit in where I need to be.

Moving the product forward at work with cool features is something I should do, but the fact that I have a hard time doing it, is not a failing of Jesus' work in me. 

From Romans 8:

35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? 36 As it is written,

“For your sake we are being killed all the day long;
    we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.”

37 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38 For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, 39 nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Holy Spirit, make these words real to me. When I let people down, remind me of Your grace and comfort. And that you have knit me together to be the person I am. Help me praise You for that. 

We're not worthy

Growing up in the 80s marked me in many ways that are completely cliched. I wore some of the 80s clothes (what we could afford), I had an Atari, I listened to Michael Jackson and Madonna, I watched Cosby and Family Ties. My Saturday Night Live cast was the one with Jan Hooks, Dana Carvey, Jon Lovett, Kevin Nealon, Victoria Jackson, and then later, Mike Myers. Dana Carvey and Mike Myers did this one skit based on two less-than-intelligent high schoolers called "Wayne's World." They just wanted to party. And when they did, they sometimes got to party with some really famous people. Their catch phrase was "We're not worthy!" while bowing and scraping to these famous people.

When I visited my parents a couple of weeks ago, I thought about my childhood and the way I felt growing up in my parents' house, and going to this smarty-pants high school, and spending time with mostly Indians in my personal life. I was also immersed in the pop culture of the 80s. It was sarcastic, not very humble, and a lot more "let's make money and here's the way to do it" - the exact opposite of the free-wheeling 70s where everything was okay to try. I think back to that decade with some fondness for the pop culture, but I feel so different now, so changed in so many ways.

I guess the funny thing about the way I grew up versus what I am learning these days is that the words "we're not worthy" is exactly how I felt today about Jesus when listening to Tim's sermon about Matthew 20: 29-34 (oh yeah, I'm making that connection, always reaching, aren't I). Tim laid out how Jesus' calling of the two blind men was so much more miraculous than the healing of their sight. And the same is true for us. Our physical and emotional healing through the Holy Spirit is NOT the primary reason we should be grateful. It is because He made us His and called us.

I've been teaching a class on growing up Christian to youth girls for the last couple of weeks. I have none of my own training to draw from, because I grew up agnostic. But I am watching my own kids do this. I asked my youth girls this week, "what is the gospel?" One said, "the Bible." Another said, "Jesus." So I followed up with: "Yes, but more: it's about who God is, who man is, why we needed Jesus, how God solved that for us, and how God then works in us." If I went to a church and then all I heard about is God's love and how we should apply that to our lives, I would be missing 75% of the gospel. No, more. I'd be missing the gospel altogether. If I don't hear about man's need, and man's sin, week after week, I lose the humility that I desperately need to be grateful. And I forget that I'm not worthy.

Enjoying the company of youth

In January, I had a couple of weeks where I had some great college students over to eat. The thing about college students is that they are much like high school students but more verbal. You ask a question and you actually get coherent content and thoughtful responses. I made a disgusting soup that somehow the first group of wonderful students choked down. The second group got a better meal that I wish I could remember. Ah well. Both groups allowed me to roast marshmallows around a fire, and we made smores too. These college girls are smart, not just looking for a husband, and they just are fun to be around.

In February, I had one of these same college girls and a couple of new ones over to my house to make cupcakes. Plus our friend Ragan came for the day to join in the fun! What a treat. I have missed that gal. Our cupcakes came in second place and they were mocha chocolate flavored with a coffee icing. They had beautiful candy decorations made by these same students. And we had fun talking about topics like majoring in English, majoring in engineering, what types of hearts work best when freehanding candy decorations, and learning about common friends. Add on to that a soup for lunch and cupcakes for dessert, what could be better?

Also, a couple of weeks ago, K invited three high school girls to spend the night for "Galentine's" day. They watched "Sleepover" and spent the night. I made a yummy shrimp pasta for them and for my boyfriend. The next morning I had bacon biscuits at the ready. These girls talked with me about Jesus. How God used technology to spread the gospel, what they were learning in their bible studies, what they loved about serving...Saturday morning was quite the blessing that day.

I think the thing we forget in our day to day is that life is really about relationships. It matters that you're organized (somewhat), it matters that you have a capacity to learn and read intellectually about politics/science/world news/fiction, it matters that you know how to capably do what you are supposed to do. But the reason we care most about personal relationships is because we have a relational God. We see it reflected in the Trinity; God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit are three-in-one. The ultimate relationship, right? And this is the gospel: we love one another as He first loved us - but even better, He commanded us to love our neighbor like ourselves. We may be introverts, quiet, or anti-social, but we can't escape that we need others. And that is a reflection of Him.

A visit with family

As usual, I have let time go by and I haven't written about my activities. One thing I have realized is that my mind is like an hourglass. The sands of time slip by and the details in my memories fade, never to be recovered. And this blog helps me remember not just the factual activities, but sometimes even the emotions, the visual experience, sometimes even the olfactory sensation that comes from being in a place. I love that the written word has that impact.

Over the last two weeks I have realized that I have too much stress at work. It is almost constant, and I cried about it to both my boyfriend and my boss. I have to admit I sometimes think about it and try to think of an "exit strategy" but I know that an exit has its own perils, its own disasters. I would have to get reacquainted with new co-workers, new processes, a new boss, new duties...new everything. Sometimes that thought does excite me but most of the time it fills me with fear. I am a creature of habit. So I had a day off last Friday. And I didn't hardly think about my work life at all. How awesome is that!

My sister came into the state with her baby girl, who will be two in June. How has time flown? I drove to my parents' to see all of them, and my daughters joined me the next day. It wasn't the most exciting visit, admittedly. Her daughter is still pretty wary of me and refuses to leave her side. My sister was also not feeling well so she struggled with maintaining a chipper attitude. But, we watched the Olympics and the women figure skaters, we watched my niece play, and we saw how smart she is. She would say "nose running!" and come over to get her nose wiped. She would say "Okay?" asking her mom if she was feeling okay. She would sing little songs and sing a Lithuanian ditty called "Doogy Dolly" or something crazy like that. She definitely was opinionated and would say "No!" She could pronounce some of our names. My sister had to spell words because my niece definitely knew what we were saying most of the time. Smart girl!

I dropped them both off at the airport yesterday to go home. My sister and I did get to talk and we finally shared some more personal thoughts. I reflected after dropping her off, that I always have this strange experience in going to my parents' because I remember how it was like before I became a believer. I am not, of course, better. However, what God has done for me has given me peace, and an overall feeling that "it's going to be okay." Not a made up feeling, or something we just assume will happen, but a real sense of knowing that I belong to the One who is in control, who will do a great work in me and in His followers, and that I have a place with Him, and will be there one day. What a gift!

Singin' in the Snow

Snowmaggedon 2014. Snowpocalypse 2014. Snowpalooza 2014.

Whatever you call, it snowed here in T-town yesterday. At least two inches in my yard. I have driven in much larger amounts of snow. Gripping the wheel. On interstate traffic, near the Baltimore beltway. And yesterday I felt the same sort of panic driving through icy, snow-covered roads that had no salt, no dirt to prevent accidents. Watching drivers right in front of me, sliding as they lost control. I didn't see anyone go into a ditch, or anyone get into a wreck. But there were plenty around. I think the sense of panic was not just with me, but with so many others who wanted to get home, who didn't want to get stranded.

What do you do in those moments? Other than get mad at your daughter when she calls and starts talking about the fact that she wants you to turn around because she's having too much fun? Pray.

Conversations with KK

This is the conversation I just had, minutes ago, with KK.

Me: "I'm going to go get groceries for dinner."
KK: "You're making dinner? What are you making? It better be good."
Me, with atttitude: "Did you just say that?"
KK: "Was that bratty?"
Me: "YES."
KK: "What are you making?"
Me: "Some Indian food."
KK: "Mom, I don't waaannnt Indian food. Why didn't you make this the other night when we had guests?"
Me: "You're going to like it."
KK: "I think I'm just going to go get Subway."
Me, with attitude: "You're going to eat it, and you're going to like it."

Yeah, you better not get huffy with me, kid.

The appeal of the reformed faith

I got a book titled One Way Love: Inexhaustible Grace for an Exhausted World for Christmas. Yes, I asked for it. I like books like this, but I'm not always successful at reading them all the way through. This one, I've had no problems getting close to finishing. It's a good take on how we are to live the Christian life, aka how we become sanctified. It's not by checking things off a to-do list, or by doing things that seem like they are Christian that eventually will exhaust us because we will never be perfect at any of it - it's about constantly going back to why we are justified, how we are made righteous, and realizing that our good works stems from His love. Good stuff.

Last weekend, I started listening to some sermons from the pastor that wrote this book. He did a series last year about the heroes of the faith. In it, he discusses that the heroes of the faith aren't really "heroes" - they are just like you and me, as sons of Adam. While there are certainly lessons to be gained from the Old Testament heroes, the point of their presence in the Bible is not for those lessons; it's to point to Jesus.

I have been reflecting on that this week. Why is it that Christianity appealed to me so much? I was raised an agnostic, pretty much. We were pretty self-sufficient, academically strong kids. I didn't "need" Jesus based on my performance in school. It was really the message of grace that drew me in, and the fact that everything I learned in school and my early adult life - that my performance was going to get me to where I needed to be - well, that was all a big fraud. My marriage was having issues, I didn't quite have the job I wanted, I was kind of an average mom, not one of those women who volunteered at the school all of the time. But the grace message - that Jesus was the saving grace, not me - that was a new one. I didn't have to look at other "heroes" to find an example of righteousness, because those heroes were flawed too. You do that, when you're a non-believer. You admire all kinds of people: successful, compassionate, cool, self-deprecating, smart, even maybe a little rebellious. The thing about it, that's what you have to do as a non-believer. You have to find someone to look up to, someone to emulate. If you're looking at religion, you might look at Gandhi, or a pope, or Joan of Arc. If you're looking at politics, you might look at a great president, or those in a specific party. What about if you were just looking at life? You'd think of Oprah, Jonas Salk, Marie Curie, maybe Angelina Jolie, or Audrey Hepburn, as sort of a wide variety of examples. But these people are all flawed, or too far-reaching. Eventually, you look at yourself and develop a high opinion of your own behavior.

In life, and even in other religions, no one ever told me that someone already did something so good, just for us, that you didn't have to do anything to get to heaven. No one ever said that it's not about you, but about Him. No one ever said that it was by grace that you could be saved. No one ever told me that nothing could separate us from the love of Jesus. That's why Christianity appeals to me. It's also not because Christians look at their behavior to make them righteous (even though that is the way it is presented and even lived, especially in the south). But when I started understanding grace as a new believer, it was mind-blowing.

The 'rents

My parents are two people I am so grateful for. They have had such a huge impact on who I am, and God used them - non-believers - to teach me about Him.

As I've written in past posts, Dad was an academic. He apparently liked other things too, because I learned at Thanksgiving that he was a goalie in soccer during his younger years. But he was crazy-smart and skipped two grades in school, and went to the big city after growing up in a small village to stay with his uncle and get better schooling. He got his college degree and taught at Madras Christian College. I find that sort of fascinating because that's where he developed some of his feelings about Christians and "proselytizing" - he often doesn't want to be influenced in a "religious" manner. He taught me to be hard-working, he taught me to always strive for the best, and he taught me to think logically. He taught me to stand up for myself when others talked down to you (to the point of being condescending to them), he taught me to be decent (he rarely, if ever, swears), and he taught me that it was okay to want to learn.

Mom certainly cared about academics but she is the social creature in our family. She is so protective of her three daughters and always has pointed to us as the standard that all others should compare themselves to (this isn't always a good thing). She grew up in a family of seven, the third child, and sometimes was the one that always ended up taking care of her younger siblings. She was apparently quite a runner and has described herself like a gazelle when she ran short track events. She got a Masters degree in psychology, but I don't believe she has ever used that skill professionally. She taught me to love stories - we loved her stories when we were little - but she also loved her "stories" (Days of Our Lives) as an adult. She taught me about how easy it is to be mistaken about our own natures. She taught me to love crafts, she taught me about how easy it is to accept disrespect because she took it all the time from me, and she taught me about true servanthood. She never ate until we finished our meal.

Sometimes we as Christians look at our parents and find it easy to see the biblical virtues in them and we are grateful. Sometimes we look at the lack of biblical virtues in our parents and find it easy to try to be just the opposite of them. I certainly have done the latter, and I never did the former because I never saw their good qualities as "biblical." But I now see the complexity in my parents' personalities and realize that they were flawed with some wonderful, loving traits, that they shaped me irrevocably, and I realize that God providentially placed me in their care.