I once heard this message preached by Pastor Wayne Cordiero. (Click the link if you would like to see more of his messages. He is one of my favorite communicators of the gospel.) I tried finding the message on the web but, alas, I couldn't, so you will just have to hear it from me. It's a simple, practical message that seriously changed my life. I pull it out constantly so I wanted to share it with you.
Everyone has the ability to learn wisdom. Everyone gets the chance to learn wisdom. There are two different "schools" at which one can learn wisdom: School of Wisdom and the School of Consequence. Both are great schools that effectively impart wisdom.
The School of Wisdom has great teachers. It's teachers are people like Moses, David, Peter and Paul from the Bible. It also has on its staff parents, pastors, and people slightly older and wiser who have already been through what you are going through. The School of Wisdom is free; it doesn't cost you anything but the time invested into learning from it.
The School of Consequence is an equally great place to learn Wisdom. It's teachers are Life and Hard Knocks. The School of Consequence has varying fees, but it will always cost you something. Sometimes attending there can cost you a little, but sometimes it can cost you everything. Should you decide that you would rather not enroll in a school, you will automatically be enrolled in the School of Consequence.
The simplicity of this message can be applied to anywhere a person happens to find him/herself in life. I am constantly asking myself, "How do you want to learn, Amanda?" When it is so simply broken down, School of Wisdom seems like the glaringly obvious choice. I am not so sure I can afford the School of Consequence... I am not so sure I want to afford it. For me, at this particular moment in time, I am reminded that I need to be surrounded by people who have raised children and by people who have weathered a few storms in marriage. While I could pay the fees and go about it my own way, I think I should much prefer learning from Wisdom. It's way better on the budget! I don't want to look back on my child-raising years and just have a long list of things I wish I had done better. It's not just my life in the balance; I need wisdom for the sake of my children.
I did a bible study a few months back on parenting. I loved the first lesson. I paraphrased from the book 14 Secrets to Better Parenting by Dave Earley in a handout I made.
Think of the legend of Robin Hood. The guy is supposed to have an incredible ability to hit any target with a bow and arrow. But imagine the skilled marksman was blindfolded or didn't know what his target was... would he still be able to hit the target? Likely not!
It's the same way with parenting. Shooting in the dark and hoping for the best result is not a good game plan when raising children. You must know your target then practice hitting it. Know your goal, then hone your skills so you may achieve that goal. The goal? Wisdom! (Proverbs 1:1-4; 4:1-2; 4:5-7; 1:7; 3:13,18; 4:10-14)
We all want our kids to grow up to be happy and healthy, but those are a by-product of wisdom. For example, if you simply aim for happiness, you may over-indulge/spoil your child. But if you aim for wisdom, God PROMISES happiness and health will follow with wisdom (Proverbs 3:13,18; 4:10-14).
It seems in parenting it is important to know the target and practice hitting it. Not only do we want to achieve wisdom in our kids, but it requires us having some in us as well. I NEED to read my Bible more and spend way more time with WISE people... wise in the areas I need wisdom.
You too??
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
Changes!
I am the proud owner of my own small piece of property on the world wide web. www.the-cadence.com
I am excited! Be excited with me!
Same Blog. Different Name and URL.
I have been wanting to change the name. I liked the old name, but I was feeling the need for a little more anonymity. You can still use my old URL to find me for now.
Some things to look forward to in the future:
I am excited! Be excited with me!
Same Blog. Different Name and URL.
I have been wanting to change the name. I liked the old name, but I was feeling the need for a little more anonymity. You can still use my old URL to find me for now.
Some things to look forward to in the future:
- A Logo and Prettier Blog Page
- A Facebook page and Twitter account
- A Series on Love
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| I could look at this face all day. The Jed-man loves to bounce, loves to stand (holding on to something), and has shown no interest in crawling... though he has gotten good at scooting while on his back. I think we may have an early walker/late crawler. |
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| Addy is better adjusted to big sister life now that Jed responds more to her. So fun to watch them play! |
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| Addy's growing WAY TOO FAST. |
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| Watching Dad's favorite team win the playoff game. They are headed to the NFC Championship game! Maybe even the Superbowl. |
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| Dad's First Day of School :) |
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Dream Team of MVO's
This morning has involved a lot of bouncing...
Bouncing my teething son...
And bouncing ideas off some dear people in my life whose opinions I value.
While texting my friend, I thanked her for her input by calling her one of my MVO's (Most Valued Opinions). My moment of cleverness faded into the thought... There is a small handful of people in this life whose opinions matter to me, whose opinions should matter anyways. They are people who know me, really know me. They know my private struggles, my short-comings, my character flaws. They know my dreams and my strengths. They know my values and either share share similar values or they respect my values enough to protect them.
Romans 12:15 says, "Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn." My MVO's are able to set aside their life for a few minutes, and, when I am excited over something, they get excited. When I am experiencing heartache, no matter how good their day was, they can set it aside to encourage me, listen to me, and pray for me. They don't get jealous of my achievements. They are truly happy for me. They don't grow weary of my troubles. They truly care about me.
An MVO has too influential a spot in your life to allow it to be filled by just anyone. They have the power to kill your dreams and make you believe less of yourself than you really are. They can ruin your day with an unkind word. They can ignore your short-comings because they are too afraid of hurting your feelings to tell you the truth (kind of like when you get spinach in your front teeth and you walk around the party unaware and no one tells you.) They can fail to lay aside their own dreams and values and instead try to form your life and dreams to the way they think it should look. When life gets exciting, they fail to celebrate with you. Your triumphs become petty. When life gets hard, they leave you feeling abandoned because they just couldn't mourn with you.
Just two simple questions for the day: Who are your MVO's? And should they have such a valued and influential place in your life?
In this world, there is only ONE you! My pastor likes to say "You are His (God's) favorite. He only made one of you." Who you are and what you were made for, your hopes and dreams, are far too important to allow any of it to be crushed by a well-meaning friend or family member. Surround yourself and your dreams with your DREAM TEAM... even if that means it's just you and God for a while... God is able to fill the spot. He could even be your entire team!
By the way, I have friends and family that I love and cherish who simply aren't MVO's. I love them. They aren't going anywhere. But I keep my dreams and values sacred lest who I am and what I was made for be extinguished. Also by the way, when a dream is first forming it is most fragile... sometimes at this point only God should get an input. As a dream grows and begins to take form, more people can be involved.
Here's to my MVO's! You know who you are, and I treasure you. And here's to all the MVO's everywhere!
Bouncing my teething son...
And bouncing ideas off some dear people in my life whose opinions I value.
While texting my friend, I thanked her for her input by calling her one of my MVO's (Most Valued Opinions). My moment of cleverness faded into the thought... There is a small handful of people in this life whose opinions matter to me, whose opinions should matter anyways. They are people who know me, really know me. They know my private struggles, my short-comings, my character flaws. They know my dreams and my strengths. They know my values and either share share similar values or they respect my values enough to protect them.
Romans 12:15 says, "Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn." My MVO's are able to set aside their life for a few minutes, and, when I am excited over something, they get excited. When I am experiencing heartache, no matter how good their day was, they can set it aside to encourage me, listen to me, and pray for me. They don't get jealous of my achievements. They are truly happy for me. They don't grow weary of my troubles. They truly care about me.
An MVO has too influential a spot in your life to allow it to be filled by just anyone. They have the power to kill your dreams and make you believe less of yourself than you really are. They can ruin your day with an unkind word. They can ignore your short-comings because they are too afraid of hurting your feelings to tell you the truth (kind of like when you get spinach in your front teeth and you walk around the party unaware and no one tells you.) They can fail to lay aside their own dreams and values and instead try to form your life and dreams to the way they think it should look. When life gets exciting, they fail to celebrate with you. Your triumphs become petty. When life gets hard, they leave you feeling abandoned because they just couldn't mourn with you.
Just two simple questions for the day: Who are your MVO's? And should they have such a valued and influential place in your life?
In this world, there is only ONE you! My pastor likes to say "You are His (God's) favorite. He only made one of you." Who you are and what you were made for, your hopes and dreams, are far too important to allow any of it to be crushed by a well-meaning friend or family member. Surround yourself and your dreams with your DREAM TEAM... even if that means it's just you and God for a while... God is able to fill the spot. He could even be your entire team!
By the way, I have friends and family that I love and cherish who simply aren't MVO's. I love them. They aren't going anywhere. But I keep my dreams and values sacred lest who I am and what I was made for be extinguished. Also by the way, when a dream is first forming it is most fragile... sometimes at this point only God should get an input. As a dream grows and begins to take form, more people can be involved.
Here's to my MVO's! You know who you are, and I treasure you. And here's to all the MVO's everywhere!
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
I Conquered the Turkey!
I don't know what it is about 14 lbs of dead turkey that is so intimidating, but cooking one is something that I have wanted to do but have avoided for 6 years like the girl who wants to watch the horror flick but covers her eyes through the entire movie. When I was first married I got a turkey from the grocery store for free. I was so excited. I was going to be SUPER Housewife: able to cook a delicious turkey, keep a clean home, and sew curtains too! The turkey sat in my freezer for 6 months before I finally gave it away to a family down the street. I had no idea how to cook it, I could ruin it, what in the world would I do with all that meat, and stick my hand up into the cavity of the bird to pull out the neck and gizzards...pass.
This Thanksgiving, I bought a turkey because they were super cheap and I decided I was finally going to conquer this thing. It sat in my freezer for almost 2 months before I worked up the needed courage to make it. I didn't do anything too crazy to it. Put a couple strips of bacon on it like my mom always does, stuck it in the oven, and pulled it out every half hour or so to baste it. I accompanied my first ever turkey dinner with my first ever gravy, no-box sausage stuffing, and home-made cranberry sauce. I kept everything simple, way too many firsts here!
It all turned out good. Turkey was a bit dry, but still good. With the leftovers, I have made turkey enchiladas (just subbed turkey for chicken in a simple chicken enchilada recipe), have plans for turkey and dumplings, and just finished off a piece of delicious turkey sandwich brilliance.
Toasted multi-grain bread. Cream cheese. Cranberry sauce. Spinach greens. Turkey. Stuffing. Brilliant.
I know this is nothing new, the Thanksgiving left-over sandwich is a classic. But do try adding a little cream cheese and cranberry. It's fabulous. (And by the way, if you have ever been intrigued by picture of the ex-con playing the guitar telling you to "Say no to bread on drugs" on the package of "Dave's Killer Bread" while grocery shopping... I finally gave into my curiosity and bought it. It is really is Killer... and I mean that in the "wow, this is the best sliced sandwich bread I have ever had" kind of way.)
Thinking I should never let 14 lbs of dead anything intimidate me again. Ha!
Hope it's okay if I end this post with a shout: I conquered the turkey!
This Thanksgiving, I bought a turkey because they were super cheap and I decided I was finally going to conquer this thing. It sat in my freezer for almost 2 months before I worked up the needed courage to make it. I didn't do anything too crazy to it. Put a couple strips of bacon on it like my mom always does, stuck it in the oven, and pulled it out every half hour or so to baste it. I accompanied my first ever turkey dinner with my first ever gravy, no-box sausage stuffing, and home-made cranberry sauce. I kept everything simple, way too many firsts here!
It all turned out good. Turkey was a bit dry, but still good. With the leftovers, I have made turkey enchiladas (just subbed turkey for chicken in a simple chicken enchilada recipe), have plans for turkey and dumplings, and just finished off a piece of delicious turkey sandwich brilliance.
Toasted multi-grain bread. Cream cheese. Cranberry sauce. Spinach greens. Turkey. Stuffing. Brilliant.
I know this is nothing new, the Thanksgiving left-over sandwich is a classic. But do try adding a little cream cheese and cranberry. It's fabulous. (And by the way, if you have ever been intrigued by picture of the ex-con playing the guitar telling you to "Say no to bread on drugs" on the package of "Dave's Killer Bread" while grocery shopping... I finally gave into my curiosity and bought it. It is really is Killer... and I mean that in the "wow, this is the best sliced sandwich bread I have ever had" kind of way.)
Thinking I should never let 14 lbs of dead anything intimidate me again. Ha!
Hope it's okay if I end this post with a shout: I conquered the turkey!
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Healthy and Delicious Turkey Meatballs
Anyone else look at themselves in the mirror while Christmas season was going on, furrow their eye brows, rub their eyes, and try to not see that their waistline had increased? Yeah, I so did, and it so has. I love all the baking and wonderfully joyous treats that appear in the kitchen... I love them a little too much. Sometimes I spend the entire day with the plate of cookies calling out to me. I am happy the holidays are over, mostly for the sake of my waistline!
So, that being said, I am trying to cook lighter and healthier.
Perhaps you would like to as well... so I now give you for your tastebud's delight:
The Turkey Meatball!
Alright so the Meatball isn't THE healthiest food out there, but this meatball is better than the average meatball:
I call for lean ground turkey. By the way, in the battle of ground beef and ground turkey; the turkey does not win, but neither does the cow. In fat, calories, and cholesterol content, both meats come out with similar results. The key to eating either, is buying LEAN. Check the label and buy 90/10 or better.
I use Panko over Italian breadcrumbs. Besides providing great texture, the are lower in saturated fat and significantly lower in sodium.
Rather than sear in butter, I sear my meatballs in a light pan-spray coating of heart-healthy canola oil.
I use cast-iron which is actually a healthier way to cook: the blood-important mineral, iron, finds its way into your food and thereby your body. You may be able to leave the iron supplement on the health store shelf, and start cooking in cast iron.
I use Kosher salt. Salt is salt, but the process to make Kosher salt makes the salt crystals bigger meaning Kosher salt has less sodium in the same amount of salt. Switching to Kosher is an easy way to reduce your sodium intake.
Ingredients:
1 lb. Lean Ground Turkey
3 garlic gloves, minced
1/4 cup finely chopped onions
1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped or 1 1/2 tbs dry parsley
1/2 tsp Basil
1/2 tsp Oregano
1/4 tsp Thyme
Pinch of Nutmeg
1/2 tsp Fresh Ground Pepper
1/2 tsp Kosher Salt
1 egg beaten
Canola Oil Cooking Spray
24 oz jar of your favorite spaghetti sauce (my favorite: Classico's Tomato Basil. It runs just over $2.00 a jar. My all time favorite: 1/2 jar of Tomato Basil and 1/2 jar of Vodka Sauce... It's one way to add some extra fat into your food... but oh so yummy!)
Whole grain Spaghetti noodles (13.25 package) (I use Barilla's Whole Grain Thin Spaghetti)
1. Heat up your cast iron dutch oven over medium heat. Spray with Canola Oil. Sweat chopped onions until limp and slightly browned. Pull out of oven and set aside.
2. Put all of your ingredients into a large bowl. Mix. (Do not over work meat.)
3. Shape into about 1 1/2" balls. (Yield should be 16-20 balls)
4. Sear in hot cast iron dutch oven until just brown on all sides... about 1 minute a side.
5. Dump a 24 oz. jar of your favorite spaghetti into dutch oven. Allow to bubble. Reduce heat to low and cover.
6. Allow meatball to cook through, about 60 minutes. (Check after 45 minutes)
7. Prepare pasta. (The key to good pasta is the timing. Read the package for cook time and do not leave your pasta unattended.)
8. Serve.
Variations: Meatballs can be cook in skillet until done or can be cook in a crook pot for about 2 hours.
Suggestions for parents: Allow your child to help you form the balls while singing at the top of your lungs the meatball song (gotta cut loose sometime, right?) and pair your meal with this with the movie, Cloudy with a chance of Meatballs, for and extra special, no-dinner-complaints kind of meal with your kid(s).
And now in pictures:
So, that being said, I am trying to cook lighter and healthier.
Perhaps you would like to as well... so I now give you for your tastebud's delight:
The Turkey Meatball!
Alright so the Meatball isn't THE healthiest food out there, but this meatball is better than the average meatball:
I call for lean ground turkey. By the way, in the battle of ground beef and ground turkey; the turkey does not win, but neither does the cow. In fat, calories, and cholesterol content, both meats come out with similar results. The key to eating either, is buying LEAN. Check the label and buy 90/10 or better.
I use Panko over Italian breadcrumbs. Besides providing great texture, the are lower in saturated fat and significantly lower in sodium.
Rather than sear in butter, I sear my meatballs in a light pan-spray coating of heart-healthy canola oil.
I use cast-iron which is actually a healthier way to cook: the blood-important mineral, iron, finds its way into your food and thereby your body. You may be able to leave the iron supplement on the health store shelf, and start cooking in cast iron.
I use Kosher salt. Salt is salt, but the process to make Kosher salt makes the salt crystals bigger meaning Kosher salt has less sodium in the same amount of salt. Switching to Kosher is an easy way to reduce your sodium intake.
Ingredients:
1 lb. Lean Ground Turkey
3 garlic gloves, minced
1/4 cup finely chopped onions
1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped or 1 1/2 tbs dry parsley
1/2 tsp Basil
1/2 tsp Oregano
1/4 tsp Thyme
Pinch of Nutmeg
1/2 tsp Fresh Ground Pepper
1/2 tsp Kosher Salt
1 egg beaten
Canola Oil Cooking Spray
24 oz jar of your favorite spaghetti sauce (my favorite: Classico's Tomato Basil. It runs just over $2.00 a jar. My all time favorite: 1/2 jar of Tomato Basil and 1/2 jar of Vodka Sauce... It's one way to add some extra fat into your food... but oh so yummy!)
Whole grain Spaghetti noodles (13.25 package) (I use Barilla's Whole Grain Thin Spaghetti)
1. Heat up your cast iron dutch oven over medium heat. Spray with Canola Oil. Sweat chopped onions until limp and slightly browned. Pull out of oven and set aside.
2. Put all of your ingredients into a large bowl. Mix. (Do not over work meat.)
3. Shape into about 1 1/2" balls. (Yield should be 16-20 balls)
4. Sear in hot cast iron dutch oven until just brown on all sides... about 1 minute a side.
5. Dump a 24 oz. jar of your favorite spaghetti into dutch oven. Allow to bubble. Reduce heat to low and cover.
6. Allow meatball to cook through, about 60 minutes. (Check after 45 minutes)
7. Prepare pasta. (The key to good pasta is the timing. Read the package for cook time and do not leave your pasta unattended.)
8. Serve.
Variations: Meatballs can be cook in skillet until done or can be cook in a crook pot for about 2 hours.
Suggestions for parents: Allow your child to help you form the balls while singing at the top of your lungs the meatball song (gotta cut loose sometime, right?) and pair your meal with this with the movie, Cloudy with a chance of Meatballs, for and extra special, no-dinner-complaints kind of meal with your kid(s).
And now in pictures:
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| Sweating onions |
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| "The Ultimate Tower of Italian Seasoning Power" Yeah, I know. I am kind of a dork. |
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| Oops...I forgot to include the oregano to my tower. |
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| Ready to mix! |
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| Best way to quickly mix meat mixes...Take of your rings and get you hands in there. Use your fingers to push the seasonings and Panko through the meat. |
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| Form into balls and place in dutch oven. |
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| Getting their SEAR on... |
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| (Insert Italian Accent) "That looks like one a-tasty meat-a-ball" |
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| My favorite sauce combo. |
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| Simmering... |
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| My dutch oven. Not too expensive to buy, if you shop around. This guy was $30. |
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| The nutty flavor of whole grain pasta has grown on me and now its my favorite. |
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| Anyone else want to bust out in song: "On top of spagetti, all covered with cheese, I lost my poor meatball when somebody sneezed..." |
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Applesauce and Insecurity
My daughter and I need way more fruit in our diets so I got this brilliant idea this week: Homemade applesauce! My thought was that I could make it for us, and then thin it down with some water and have baby food for Jed. So 2 days ago, I made it. I put my cored and halved apples into my cast iron pan, filled with an inch of water. I added some cinnamon sticks. I set the temperature to high just to get the water to boil.
I then sat down to the computer to do some "research" on pinterest. (I did a little thrifting yesterday for some furniture pieces and wanted to be prepared with an arsenal of design ideas). I kept thinking, "Wow my house smells amazing. I think applesauce was a great idea..." Forty-five minutes and 20 pins later, it hits me, my apples are on high heat! I pulled off the lid to find mushy apple soup still somewhat contained within their half apple shell. The apples were too broken down to be good for a grown woman's palate (probably even for a 3 year olds... yep it was bad). On the bright side, I added a banana and some blueberries and made some babyfood... and did not have to add any water. The apples soaked up enough of that on their own. Also on the bright side: my house smelled amazing and I was reminded to be humble.
Lesson learned: Pinterest, while loads of fun to collect great great ideas, is a bad place to be while cooking a meal. Something could get hurt.
For some reason this got me thinking a little deeper than my Pinterest lesson though...
Ever come across someone that you think "has it all together." Or maybe in the blog world, you stumble across one of those blogs that is full of amazing ideas... from an amazing woman... with an amazing family... who takes amazing pictures...and has amazing amounts of time, and you can't help but feel like less of a person because you don't make your own recipes, craft for 2 hours everyday, and knit in your spare time, oh and also blog about it all (not to mention just struggling to do all the mom-have-to's like keeping a clean house, spending time with your children, nurturing their boo-boo's and the carpet that they just left yet another mess on, and finding time for yourself, ha.) Anyone else ever question, who is this "Pioneer Woman" really? And how in the world does she do it all???
And maybe some of you think that of me. My nose may be pointy and I may have some "crunchy-granola" passions (like cloth diapering, repurposing/reusing furniture, and homemade and healthy food) but not only do I not think I am better than everyone, I KNOW I am not. If you know me outside of this blog then you should also know I am much better in prose than I am in person. I am an introvert and sometimes struggle with small talk. I often embarrass myself with my awkwardness. But my quietness and my pointed nose is not snubbery, it's me. I often don't know what to say and can write almost a novel but can't come up with small talk. (I know, I don't get it either.) I struggle to get all I need to get done. My house is a mess 6 days a week, I go thru the McDonald's drive thru at least once a week (and some week's it's more accurately 3 times), my running routine has fallen off the map because I am too lazy to weather thru the cold, I rarely put make-up on except for special occasions or when I am overcome by the sudden need to feel pretty, and some days I am the least qualified person to talk about Thriving. I talk about it, because, well, it's where I am and I love to write. That's it. I write what I am going thru and what I have been thru. I have not arrived, just writing about the journey.
While doing youth ministry I noticed this phenomenon: a "normal-looking" (or even homely) girl shows up for youth and she is bombarded with warmth from youth and leaders a like. But when a "beautiful-looking" girl shows up, next to no one welcomes her. Youth avoid her unless they already know her. EVEN leaders, those who are five or more years older and supposedly wiser, avoid greeting her. (I only say this because I know youth ministry; this is not a bash against it, for I fear this phenomenon happens everywhere.) In fact, you could probably measure your own security and confidence in yourself by how you respond when you are in the presence of someone who has greatness or beauty that you perceive to be greater than your own.
I recently had some new people enter my life. I tried my hardest to welcome them, to get to know them, but I have caught myself analyzing and re-analyzing their every move. I catch myself saying sarcastic jokes and critical statements to my husband at their expense (when they aren't around). And which person is it that gets to be at the brunt of most of my cruelty? The person whose talents and personality is most like mine! I suppose it is that deep down I feel threatened by them. They could replace me, they could be better than me... INSECURITY! It has reared it's ugly head in my life yet again. Kind of like the pair of jeans that makes your butt look big or muffin-tops your belly, I do not like what insecurity is doing to my character. Jealousy, sarcasm, meanness, criticism, comparison... you do not look good on my character! I shall kindly take you off now and find something else to wear.
The Biblical angle I keep thinking of is that God loves me just as much as He loves everyone else. To quote my pastor from the church I grew up at, "There isn't anyone that God loves more than you, Amanda." He said this to me constantly. Apparently I need to know this, and remember it often.
"There isn't anyone that God loves more than you."
Also, the Bible is very clear: God made us uniquely and differently and with different gifts and talents and different measures of each. Point: people simply are going to be better than me and people are going to be worse than me. But God doesn't compare. Each one is His prized creation. He didn't get lazy while you were in your mother's womb. His creativity didn't dull. He made you wonderfully unique with a wonderfully divine purpose, no matter the abundance or seeming lack of talents you have. You have something. You have purpose. You have "a reason for."
People will be better than me. People will be worse. But I was made to be ME and no one can do that better than ME.
So, I shake off the insecurity. I will like who I am. I will Love who I am. I am strong. I am compassionate. I am quiet. I am perceptive. I am introspective. I am funny. I can write. There is no need to compare my talents and passions to others for I am a masterpiece. I am made in God's image with divine purpose... that no one can shake from me. I seek to take all that I am and make a sound with it loud enough to echo beyond my lifespan however long it may be, echo through my kids' lives and their kids' lives, and hopefully echo into eternity. And I will NOT muffle my voice by comparing who I am, my dreams, and my abilities to someone else!
Take that Insecurity!
Hear me ECHO!
Funny the journey this post took me on. I occasionally ruin applesauce. I am imperfect. Please don't compare me to you. Please don't compare yourself, Amanda, to anyone else (Insert stomp on insecurity in my life). So let me leave you with one final thought that I couldn't get to fit anywhere else:
"You don't always have to get it right, just be willing to try.
And there is usually something salvagable in the trying."
Apply that to applesauce, child-rearing, or your dreams.
Now... Put on some metaphorical horse-blinders to keep you from comparing yourself to others, and go TRY and go BE who YOU were made to be.
I feel ready, do you?
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| Not sure if this picture indicates the sheer difficulty I have coring an apple. |
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| Looks promising, right?! |
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| My Christmas present from my in-laws. Porcelain-coated, cast-iron skillet. Ain't she a beaut! |
I then sat down to the computer to do some "research" on pinterest. (I did a little thrifting yesterday for some furniture pieces and wanted to be prepared with an arsenal of design ideas). I kept thinking, "Wow my house smells amazing. I think applesauce was a great idea..." Forty-five minutes and 20 pins later, it hits me, my apples are on high heat! I pulled off the lid to find mushy apple soup still somewhat contained within their half apple shell. The apples were too broken down to be good for a grown woman's palate (probably even for a 3 year olds... yep it was bad). On the bright side, I added a banana and some blueberries and made some babyfood... and did not have to add any water. The apples soaked up enough of that on their own. Also on the bright side: my house smelled amazing and I was reminded to be humble.
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| Apple soup+banana+blueberries=great baby food |
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| Store baby food by freezing in ice cube tray and then storing cubes in freezer bag. Also a great idea for fresh herbs and pesto sauce! |
Lesson learned: Pinterest, while loads of fun to collect great great ideas, is a bad place to be while cooking a meal. Something could get hurt.
For some reason this got me thinking a little deeper than my Pinterest lesson though...
Ever come across someone that you think "has it all together." Or maybe in the blog world, you stumble across one of those blogs that is full of amazing ideas... from an amazing woman... with an amazing family... who takes amazing pictures...and has amazing amounts of time, and you can't help but feel like less of a person because you don't make your own recipes, craft for 2 hours everyday, and knit in your spare time, oh and also blog about it all (not to mention just struggling to do all the mom-have-to's like keeping a clean house, spending time with your children, nurturing their boo-boo's and the carpet that they just left yet another mess on, and finding time for yourself, ha.) Anyone else ever question, who is this "Pioneer Woman" really? And how in the world does she do it all???
And maybe some of you think that of me. My nose may be pointy and I may have some "crunchy-granola" passions (like cloth diapering, repurposing/reusing furniture, and homemade and healthy food) but not only do I not think I am better than everyone, I KNOW I am not. If you know me outside of this blog then you should also know I am much better in prose than I am in person. I am an introvert and sometimes struggle with small talk. I often embarrass myself with my awkwardness. But my quietness and my pointed nose is not snubbery, it's me. I often don't know what to say and can write almost a novel but can't come up with small talk. (I know, I don't get it either.) I struggle to get all I need to get done. My house is a mess 6 days a week, I go thru the McDonald's drive thru at least once a week (and some week's it's more accurately 3 times), my running routine has fallen off the map because I am too lazy to weather thru the cold, I rarely put make-up on except for special occasions or when I am overcome by the sudden need to feel pretty, and some days I am the least qualified person to talk about Thriving. I talk about it, because, well, it's where I am and I love to write. That's it. I write what I am going thru and what I have been thru. I have not arrived, just writing about the journey.
While doing youth ministry I noticed this phenomenon: a "normal-looking" (or even homely) girl shows up for youth and she is bombarded with warmth from youth and leaders a like. But when a "beautiful-looking" girl shows up, next to no one welcomes her. Youth avoid her unless they already know her. EVEN leaders, those who are five or more years older and supposedly wiser, avoid greeting her. (I only say this because I know youth ministry; this is not a bash against it, for I fear this phenomenon happens everywhere.) In fact, you could probably measure your own security and confidence in yourself by how you respond when you are in the presence of someone who has greatness or beauty that you perceive to be greater than your own.
I recently had some new people enter my life. I tried my hardest to welcome them, to get to know them, but I have caught myself analyzing and re-analyzing their every move. I catch myself saying sarcastic jokes and critical statements to my husband at their expense (when they aren't around). And which person is it that gets to be at the brunt of most of my cruelty? The person whose talents and personality is most like mine! I suppose it is that deep down I feel threatened by them. They could replace me, they could be better than me... INSECURITY! It has reared it's ugly head in my life yet again. Kind of like the pair of jeans that makes your butt look big or muffin-tops your belly, I do not like what insecurity is doing to my character. Jealousy, sarcasm, meanness, criticism, comparison... you do not look good on my character! I shall kindly take you off now and find something else to wear.
The Biblical angle I keep thinking of is that God loves me just as much as He loves everyone else. To quote my pastor from the church I grew up at, "There isn't anyone that God loves more than you, Amanda." He said this to me constantly. Apparently I need to know this, and remember it often.
"There isn't anyone that God loves more than you."
Also, the Bible is very clear: God made us uniquely and differently and with different gifts and talents and different measures of each. Point: people simply are going to be better than me and people are going to be worse than me. But God doesn't compare. Each one is His prized creation. He didn't get lazy while you were in your mother's womb. His creativity didn't dull. He made you wonderfully unique with a wonderfully divine purpose, no matter the abundance or seeming lack of talents you have. You have something. You have purpose. You have "a reason for."
People will be better than me. People will be worse. But I was made to be ME and no one can do that better than ME.
So, I shake off the insecurity. I will like who I am. I will Love who I am. I am strong. I am compassionate. I am quiet. I am perceptive. I am introspective. I am funny. I can write. There is no need to compare my talents and passions to others for I am a masterpiece. I am made in God's image with divine purpose... that no one can shake from me. I seek to take all that I am and make a sound with it loud enough to echo beyond my lifespan however long it may be, echo through my kids' lives and their kids' lives, and hopefully echo into eternity. And I will NOT muffle my voice by comparing who I am, my dreams, and my abilities to someone else!
Take that Insecurity!
Hear me ECHO!
Funny the journey this post took me on. I occasionally ruin applesauce. I am imperfect. Please don't compare me to you. Please don't compare yourself, Amanda, to anyone else (Insert stomp on insecurity in my life). So let me leave you with one final thought that I couldn't get to fit anywhere else:
"You don't always have to get it right, just be willing to try.
And there is usually something salvagable in the trying."
Apply that to applesauce, child-rearing, or your dreams.
Now... Put on some metaphorical horse-blinders to keep you from comparing yourself to others, and go TRY and go BE who YOU were made to be.
I feel ready, do you?
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
The Grace Game
Ever have a "Turning Point?" You know, life is going along as usual. Perhaps there is a slight feeling of discontentment, but life is normal. You are who you've always been. And then, something happens that leaves you forever changed.
I have had a few of those moments in my lifetime. There are the big life moments: my wedding day and the birth of my first child. There are the hard times: the day my husband and his dad made the desicion to close down their business and the day I found out my dear granny had been diagnosed with an aggressive brain cancer. Then there are the times I was casually going about life as usual, and nothing really extraordinary happened but somehow God managed to gently teach me a big life lesson that forever changed me.
Today, I want to reflect on one of those business-as-usual Big Moments.
I was 21. Idealistic as ever. I had just returned from 3 months of living in inner-city Los Angeles. I interned at a missions organization and got spend a lot of time at the Dream Center (a 24-hour church that literally has a ministry for every possible way a person could be down and out). I dealt hope to the homeless, helped with youth group missions trips in Tijuana, met some amazing missionaries, reached out to teen runaways, and put on programs for children in some of the worst projects in the LA area. It was an amazing summer.
I came home from my internship ready to save the world. And don't you know, in three months time I managed to gain all the experience and wisdom necessary to be able to do this better than anyone else? HA! I took a position at my church as the administrative assistant. I am pretty sure I drove my pastors crazy, for, with all my 3 months of ministry knowledge, I could not only administrate; I could also pastor better than they could. Confession: I was and still can be a complete know-it-all. My senior pastor later confessed that he almost fired me. I don't blame him. I was difficult.
At this time there happened to be a young man who was interning at the church. I couldn't stand him. I didn't think he belonged there. I also thought I was qualified enough to be able to say whether he belonged there or not... after all I did have my 3 months of internship experience. He would constantly make trips to my desk and stare at my chest. I didn't care if he was in recovery. This was the holy house of God! How dare he call himself an intern and look at a woman's bosoms, foul sinner! (I am being intentionally dramatic.)
Anyways, on this particular day, I had had enough from this young man. I left work thoroughly frustrated. I got in my car and headed to school. The freeway greeted my bad day with some especially congested traffic. Is it just me or does it seem that somehow everyone gets the memo when you've had a bad day and decides to drive especially bad?
A woman was tail-gating me. I found this to be mildly irritating. Then, she decides to floor it into the carpool lane and cut right in front of me, forcing me to brake hard and the car behind me to almost hit me. My bad day combined with this bad driver made me want to scream out every four letter word I could think of.
When I first got my license, to keep road rage from turning my mouth into a cesspool of expletives, I made up a game I called, "The Grace Game." Every time another driver did something to upset me, I came up with a ridiculous story of why that person would have had a good reason to do that. For example, "Perhaps he took my right-of-way because he was in a great hurry. He has missed every single one of his son's baseball games this season and he really needs to make it to the last one to prevent further damaging his relationship with his family. He accidentally hit a dog on the way to the game and decided to do the right thing and pull over to see if the dog could be helped. He knocked on a couple doors to try to find the owner making him irrevocably late..." Less than a minute of my absurd story and my anger was gone.
So on this particularly frustrating day, I remembered "The Grace Game." I began making up a story for this woman. "Perhaps her mom is on her deathbed. While on the way the the hospital, her boyfriend called to tell her that her dog had died. Then he called her back to tell her that he was leaving her for another woman. She now desperately needs her mom and wants so badly to see her one last time..." I begin to chuckle at my slightly morbid ridiculousness. I begin thinking how super clever I am for inventing "The Grace Game."
Enter my life changing moment:
God gently spoke to me in the midst of my prideful revelry, and said, "Amanda, that's conditional Grace. My Grace is Unconditional."
Silence while the words sink in.
Tears, lots of them, immediately ensued.
You may think I am crazy for thinking that God talked to me. But He did. My life-changing moment may be small and normal. But I can still hear those words. They were soft and gentle. A whisper really. But they jarred that girl out of the pride she had been living in and into a small glimpse of the vastness of God's Love.
Our grace is conditional.
We want excuses. Reasons for things. Bad behavior can be fine so long as there is an explanation for it.
God's grace is unconditional.
He doesn't need an excuse, a rough childhood to understand the adult you are today... you can be downright awful and the moment you ask for God's forgiveness, favor, help, love... you have it. It doesn't make sense. It cannot be fathomed or grasped. And it's really not supposed to be: see, there's this thing called Faith. Faith fills the gap between God Ways and our understanding.
I felt especially awful at that moment sitting in practically idle, rush-hour traffic. I had no excuses for my lack of forgiveness. I had no reason to be the prideful, judgmental, know-it-all I had become. I could somehow reach out and love the down-and-out, drug-addict on the streets who chose his addiction over his family, house, and job because I could see the rough life and the addiction as an excuse to live in depravity. But somehow, I couldn't extend love and grace to my pastors and that intern because they should know better. Right?
I should know better.
Most of the time, I do know better.
I am so thankful for the unconditional grace God gives this girl. If you read my last post, Eat My Words, you know pride is an ongoing struggle for me. The moment I think I have conquered it and have learned some great lesson in humility is the moment I find some other aspect of pride ruling some other aspect of my life.
In light of my last post, I need to remember to not form opinions of or make excuses for others. I am not God, and my version of grace and love doesn't even come close to measuring up to His. What is this great need inside me to play God? To decide who deserves what they get and who doesn't?
Unconditional.
Hmmm... What would it look like to live without conditions? I want to find out... And in the meantime, I am just appreciative of the fact that God loves me without them.
I have had a few of those moments in my lifetime. There are the big life moments: my wedding day and the birth of my first child. There are the hard times: the day my husband and his dad made the desicion to close down their business and the day I found out my dear granny had been diagnosed with an aggressive brain cancer. Then there are the times I was casually going about life as usual, and nothing really extraordinary happened but somehow God managed to gently teach me a big life lesson that forever changed me.
Today, I want to reflect on one of those business-as-usual Big Moments.
I was 21. Idealistic as ever. I had just returned from 3 months of living in inner-city Los Angeles. I interned at a missions organization and got spend a lot of time at the Dream Center (a 24-hour church that literally has a ministry for every possible way a person could be down and out). I dealt hope to the homeless, helped with youth group missions trips in Tijuana, met some amazing missionaries, reached out to teen runaways, and put on programs for children in some of the worst projects in the LA area. It was an amazing summer.
I came home from my internship ready to save the world. And don't you know, in three months time I managed to gain all the experience and wisdom necessary to be able to do this better than anyone else? HA! I took a position at my church as the administrative assistant. I am pretty sure I drove my pastors crazy, for, with all my 3 months of ministry knowledge, I could not only administrate; I could also pastor better than they could. Confession: I was and still can be a complete know-it-all. My senior pastor later confessed that he almost fired me. I don't blame him. I was difficult.
At this time there happened to be a young man who was interning at the church. I couldn't stand him. I didn't think he belonged there. I also thought I was qualified enough to be able to say whether he belonged there or not... after all I did have my 3 months of internship experience. He would constantly make trips to my desk and stare at my chest. I didn't care if he was in recovery. This was the holy house of God! How dare he call himself an intern and look at a woman's bosoms, foul sinner! (I am being intentionally dramatic.)
Anyways, on this particular day, I had had enough from this young man. I left work thoroughly frustrated. I got in my car and headed to school. The freeway greeted my bad day with some especially congested traffic. Is it just me or does it seem that somehow everyone gets the memo when you've had a bad day and decides to drive especially bad?
A woman was tail-gating me. I found this to be mildly irritating. Then, she decides to floor it into the carpool lane and cut right in front of me, forcing me to brake hard and the car behind me to almost hit me. My bad day combined with this bad driver made me want to scream out every four letter word I could think of.
When I first got my license, to keep road rage from turning my mouth into a cesspool of expletives, I made up a game I called, "The Grace Game." Every time another driver did something to upset me, I came up with a ridiculous story of why that person would have had a good reason to do that. For example, "Perhaps he took my right-of-way because he was in a great hurry. He has missed every single one of his son's baseball games this season and he really needs to make it to the last one to prevent further damaging his relationship with his family. He accidentally hit a dog on the way to the game and decided to do the right thing and pull over to see if the dog could be helped. He knocked on a couple doors to try to find the owner making him irrevocably late..." Less than a minute of my absurd story and my anger was gone.
So on this particularly frustrating day, I remembered "The Grace Game." I began making up a story for this woman. "Perhaps her mom is on her deathbed. While on the way the the hospital, her boyfriend called to tell her that her dog had died. Then he called her back to tell her that he was leaving her for another woman. She now desperately needs her mom and wants so badly to see her one last time..." I begin to chuckle at my slightly morbid ridiculousness. I begin thinking how super clever I am for inventing "The Grace Game."
Enter my life changing moment:
God gently spoke to me in the midst of my prideful revelry, and said, "Amanda, that's conditional Grace. My Grace is Unconditional."
Silence while the words sink in.
Tears, lots of them, immediately ensued.
You may think I am crazy for thinking that God talked to me. But He did. My life-changing moment may be small and normal. But I can still hear those words. They were soft and gentle. A whisper really. But they jarred that girl out of the pride she had been living in and into a small glimpse of the vastness of God's Love.
Our grace is conditional.
We want excuses. Reasons for things. Bad behavior can be fine so long as there is an explanation for it.
God's grace is unconditional.
He doesn't need an excuse, a rough childhood to understand the adult you are today... you can be downright awful and the moment you ask for God's forgiveness, favor, help, love... you have it. It doesn't make sense. It cannot be fathomed or grasped. And it's really not supposed to be: see, there's this thing called Faith. Faith fills the gap between God Ways and our understanding.
I felt especially awful at that moment sitting in practically idle, rush-hour traffic. I had no excuses for my lack of forgiveness. I had no reason to be the prideful, judgmental, know-it-all I had become. I could somehow reach out and love the down-and-out, drug-addict on the streets who chose his addiction over his family, house, and job because I could see the rough life and the addiction as an excuse to live in depravity. But somehow, I couldn't extend love and grace to my pastors and that intern because they should know better. Right?
I should know better.
Most of the time, I do know better.
I am so thankful for the unconditional grace God gives this girl. If you read my last post, Eat My Words, you know pride is an ongoing struggle for me. The moment I think I have conquered it and have learned some great lesson in humility is the moment I find some other aspect of pride ruling some other aspect of my life.
In light of my last post, I need to remember to not form opinions of or make excuses for others. I am not God, and my version of grace and love doesn't even come close to measuring up to His. What is this great need inside me to play God? To decide who deserves what they get and who doesn't?
Unconditional.
Hmmm... What would it look like to live without conditions? I want to find out... And in the meantime, I am just appreciative of the fact that God loves me without them.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Eat My Words
Sometimes, I judge.
As of late, I feel as though someone has gone through the buffet line of every careless word of judgement I have ever spoken, picked a few choice ones to pile up on the plate, and now I get to eat my words.
Ever had that kind of moment? You are casually going about your business and catch yourself doing something you at one time judged others for doing? Or maybe someone says something about you that you once said about someone else? Or maybe you've caught yourself doing something that you once said "I will never...," like from your younger days before you had kids when you thought you could parent better than your mom. Right now, it feels like God is tapping me on my shoulder and gently reminding me of times past. I don't consider myself judgmental, more like idealistic or maybe even opinionated. But no matter how I choose to color it, I still judge. The past 6 months or so has contained a plateful of reminders of this shortcoming of mine.
A few months back, a girl I knew made a remark about a woman who had her 4ish year old peeing into the bushes outside of a shopping store. Her comment was something along the lines of "Seriously?! Why would anyone do that? That's unbelievable. I will never..." As a mother who has survived potty training and has a busy daughter who waits to the absolute last possible second to head to the bathroom to relieve herself, I know that sometimes allowing your child to urinate outside the store is simply a matter of survival. It's not ideal. It's not what anyone dreams of when they think of motherhood. But sometimes, on the rare occasion, motherhood simply requires some pretty "interesting" and often embarrassing duties from us. I did not say anything to my friend, for some things are better learned on one's own. God is a great and gentle teacher anyways.
We are all guilty of such things, though I suppose I shouldn't speak for you; I am guilty of such things. Lack of experience causes me to look at the choices other people make and question them. And I suppose if I am to be very honest, sometimes I am just downright rotten. A little piece of me that still struggles to know her value wants to compare myself to others so I can feel a little better. But that's an entirely different conversation for a different day,
I am learning that people and life are a sum of choices we make. Different situations challenge what is most important to us, and we make our decisions accordingly.
Being a stay-at-home mom has been something that I place great value on. But its a choice that has come at a high price. Circumstances have demanded that my husband and I make some really tough decisions to keep me at home, decisions that I know not everyone would make. We've had to look at two things we value greatly and decide which one is more valuable. It's kind of like the woman at the store who has to choose between the value of public decency and the value of not allowing her child to pee in his/her pants. I am sure it's not that public decency has no value. I am sure it is a value she wants to instill in her child. But she made a choice, and the value of dry pants won. Perhaps not everyone in that situation would do what she did. Perhaps there could have been other options besides the bushes outside. How can she be judged though, for I haven't lived her life, and I am clueless about her values?
Please don't think this blog is a rant about my judgmental friend. I wouldn't even say she's judgmental, and I also wouldn't be able to say that she's not judgmental; I really don't know either way. I have absolutely similarly judged. For example, and this may show my suburban, small-town upbringing, as a 20ish year old I had this thing about apartments. I looked at apartments, thought it looked lame to live amongst a parking lot with strangers so close by, and thought to myself, "I will never." I didn't want to rush out of my parents' house as a young woman and end up in an apartment. I am not quite sure what my thing was, guess it was just idealistic youth, but I totally thought people who lived in apartments were lame. I now live in an apartment. It's not a big deal. It's a desicion that I made because, well, I've grown up since then and because it's one of the choices we've had to make to keep me at home. Sure, if I could have my cake and eat it too, I would stay at home AND have a house with a backyard. But both isn't an option. So we made a desicion about which one we valued more. We choose me at home. (And by the way, this is NOT me saying everyone should make this desicion in a similar situation. I do not think that. I am only saying what desicion we made for us.)
Even though I am fine with our apartment choice, I will never forget sitting at dinner surrounded by friends and having one person, who happened to be planning for her wedding and her life with her significant other, say, "Yeah, I just don't think I could live in an apartment. There's just something about them." It hurt. I suddenly felt like I was less than. Not good enough. Coach class at a table of executive class people. Apartment class sitting amongst house-with-a-groomed-backyard class people. I thought of the fact that not only did I live in an apartment, but I had also moved back in with my parents for 2 years and after that lived above my church in a tiny studio apartment before moving into our current apartment. They were my husband's and my choices as much as we would like to play the victim-of-a-bad-economy card. And what did all that say about me? Is there "just something about me?" I know I am a little sensitive, but it hurt my feelings. She didn't say it with that intent, she was just communicating her future plans with her future husband ignorant of my living situation. And as I was getting upset, I realized it bothered me so much because I WAS THAT GIRL. I ignorantly judged apartment living and now I was being judged by my same system of measurement. Ouch!
I am sure this is a familiar passage from the Bible: "Do not judge so that you will not be judged. For in the way you judge, you will be judged; and by your standard of measure, it will be measured to you" (Matthew 7:1-2). In light of what I have been thinking on, I think I understand it a little better. I guess I always skimmed over the "standard of measure" part. I looked at the whole passage and thought "Ok. Don't judge. Got it. Next passage..." Standard of measure refers to weight. It's like going to the grocery store and pulling out a bunch of tomatoes and placing them on the scale. Do you measure in ounces and pounds or in grams and kilograms? I think God is essentially saying that if you pick people up, put them on the scale of your values and determine their worth; by that same scale and by those same values, you yourself will be measured and your worth determined. You yourself will get to eat your words.
The Bible promises God sees us as valuable, a treasure, it speaks of Him seeking after us, pursuing us like a man seeks after the woman he desires above all others. But when we bust out our scale of values and begin to place people on them, Matthew 7:1,2, implies that God now must look at something he sees as valuable, priceless, and wonderful in his perfect eyes and look at us through our imperfect lenses and place us on our imperfect scale. I am thinking I definitely like the way God's sees me better. I am thinking I definitely need to ditch my scale!
Part of my struggle has been learning to live knowing that I am being judged by others. I find it incredibly hard to know that someone is standing with their nose upturned at me, even though I know I made the best decision for me and my family. Shame. Judgment. Uck! I am finding it incredibly hard to live under that burden, but I haven't quite figured out how to live without caring. Try as I might I DO care what other people think. I know; it's pride, and I need to care more about what God thinks of me. Can I just say, at least for me, "THIS IS HARD!" I know I have come a long ways. Learning to like myself is part of it. Learning to make the desicions that I can live with helps. But its hard. I haven't quite figured out how to further navigate my way out from under the weight of people's judgment. I am learning, but I have a ways to go.
The bright side to eating my buffet plate of careless words is that I am learning compassion. I might have considered myself compassionate before, but I am also learning compassion is something that one can always get better at. My depth of understanding is increasing because my life experience is increasing. I can better understand others. And I can better understand that I don't need to understand others. I am learning because I absolutely hate eating my words, to not just keep my opinions to myself, but to stop forming them all together. I think that is a better form of compassion anyways.
While I may not not be much of one for resolutions, I do love how the new year draws that line on the track for me and lets me run in the direction I choose so that when the next year draws close I can look back and see how far I have come. So new year, I am going to try to keep my mouth shut more often, form fewer opinions about others, and focus my attention on how God sees me instead of others.
"Truly he taught us to love one another; His law is love and His gospel is peace."
-from "O Holy Night"
I think these lyrics pretty much sum it up for me. God gives us perfect love and perfect peace. And He calls us to live that way with others.
As of late, I feel as though someone has gone through the buffet line of every careless word of judgement I have ever spoken, picked a few choice ones to pile up on the plate, and now I get to eat my words.
Ever had that kind of moment? You are casually going about your business and catch yourself doing something you at one time judged others for doing? Or maybe someone says something about you that you once said about someone else? Or maybe you've caught yourself doing something that you once said "I will never...," like from your younger days before you had kids when you thought you could parent better than your mom. Right now, it feels like God is tapping me on my shoulder and gently reminding me of times past. I don't consider myself judgmental, more like idealistic or maybe even opinionated. But no matter how I choose to color it, I still judge. The past 6 months or so has contained a plateful of reminders of this shortcoming of mine.
A few months back, a girl I knew made a remark about a woman who had her 4ish year old peeing into the bushes outside of a shopping store. Her comment was something along the lines of "Seriously?! Why would anyone do that? That's unbelievable. I will never..." As a mother who has survived potty training and has a busy daughter who waits to the absolute last possible second to head to the bathroom to relieve herself, I know that sometimes allowing your child to urinate outside the store is simply a matter of survival. It's not ideal. It's not what anyone dreams of when they think of motherhood. But sometimes, on the rare occasion, motherhood simply requires some pretty "interesting" and often embarrassing duties from us. I did not say anything to my friend, for some things are better learned on one's own. God is a great and gentle teacher anyways.
We are all guilty of such things, though I suppose I shouldn't speak for you; I am guilty of such things. Lack of experience causes me to look at the choices other people make and question them. And I suppose if I am to be very honest, sometimes I am just downright rotten. A little piece of me that still struggles to know her value wants to compare myself to others so I can feel a little better. But that's an entirely different conversation for a different day,
I am learning that people and life are a sum of choices we make. Different situations challenge what is most important to us, and we make our decisions accordingly.
Being a stay-at-home mom has been something that I place great value on. But its a choice that has come at a high price. Circumstances have demanded that my husband and I make some really tough decisions to keep me at home, decisions that I know not everyone would make. We've had to look at two things we value greatly and decide which one is more valuable. It's kind of like the woman at the store who has to choose between the value of public decency and the value of not allowing her child to pee in his/her pants. I am sure it's not that public decency has no value. I am sure it is a value she wants to instill in her child. But she made a choice, and the value of dry pants won. Perhaps not everyone in that situation would do what she did. Perhaps there could have been other options besides the bushes outside. How can she be judged though, for I haven't lived her life, and I am clueless about her values?
Please don't think this blog is a rant about my judgmental friend. I wouldn't even say she's judgmental, and I also wouldn't be able to say that she's not judgmental; I really don't know either way. I have absolutely similarly judged. For example, and this may show my suburban, small-town upbringing, as a 20ish year old I had this thing about apartments. I looked at apartments, thought it looked lame to live amongst a parking lot with strangers so close by, and thought to myself, "I will never." I didn't want to rush out of my parents' house as a young woman and end up in an apartment. I am not quite sure what my thing was, guess it was just idealistic youth, but I totally thought people who lived in apartments were lame. I now live in an apartment. It's not a big deal. It's a desicion that I made because, well, I've grown up since then and because it's one of the choices we've had to make to keep me at home. Sure, if I could have my cake and eat it too, I would stay at home AND have a house with a backyard. But both isn't an option. So we made a desicion about which one we valued more. We choose me at home. (And by the way, this is NOT me saying everyone should make this desicion in a similar situation. I do not think that. I am only saying what desicion we made for us.)
Even though I am fine with our apartment choice, I will never forget sitting at dinner surrounded by friends and having one person, who happened to be planning for her wedding and her life with her significant other, say, "Yeah, I just don't think I could live in an apartment. There's just something about them." It hurt. I suddenly felt like I was less than. Not good enough. Coach class at a table of executive class people. Apartment class sitting amongst house-with-a-groomed-backyard class people. I thought of the fact that not only did I live in an apartment, but I had also moved back in with my parents for 2 years and after that lived above my church in a tiny studio apartment before moving into our current apartment. They were my husband's and my choices as much as we would like to play the victim-of-a-bad-economy card. And what did all that say about me? Is there "just something about me?" I know I am a little sensitive, but it hurt my feelings. She didn't say it with that intent, she was just communicating her future plans with her future husband ignorant of my living situation. And as I was getting upset, I realized it bothered me so much because I WAS THAT GIRL. I ignorantly judged apartment living and now I was being judged by my same system of measurement. Ouch!
I am sure this is a familiar passage from the Bible: "Do not judge so that you will not be judged. For in the way you judge, you will be judged; and by your standard of measure, it will be measured to you" (Matthew 7:1-2). In light of what I have been thinking on, I think I understand it a little better. I guess I always skimmed over the "standard of measure" part. I looked at the whole passage and thought "Ok. Don't judge. Got it. Next passage..." Standard of measure refers to weight. It's like going to the grocery store and pulling out a bunch of tomatoes and placing them on the scale. Do you measure in ounces and pounds or in grams and kilograms? I think God is essentially saying that if you pick people up, put them on the scale of your values and determine their worth; by that same scale and by those same values, you yourself will be measured and your worth determined. You yourself will get to eat your words.
The Bible promises God sees us as valuable, a treasure, it speaks of Him seeking after us, pursuing us like a man seeks after the woman he desires above all others. But when we bust out our scale of values and begin to place people on them, Matthew 7:1,2, implies that God now must look at something he sees as valuable, priceless, and wonderful in his perfect eyes and look at us through our imperfect lenses and place us on our imperfect scale. I am thinking I definitely like the way God's sees me better. I am thinking I definitely need to ditch my scale!
Part of my struggle has been learning to live knowing that I am being judged by others. I find it incredibly hard to know that someone is standing with their nose upturned at me, even though I know I made the best decision for me and my family. Shame. Judgment. Uck! I am finding it incredibly hard to live under that burden, but I haven't quite figured out how to live without caring. Try as I might I DO care what other people think. I know; it's pride, and I need to care more about what God thinks of me. Can I just say, at least for me, "THIS IS HARD!" I know I have come a long ways. Learning to like myself is part of it. Learning to make the desicions that I can live with helps. But its hard. I haven't quite figured out how to further navigate my way out from under the weight of people's judgment. I am learning, but I have a ways to go.
The bright side to eating my buffet plate of careless words is that I am learning compassion. I might have considered myself compassionate before, but I am also learning compassion is something that one can always get better at. My depth of understanding is increasing because my life experience is increasing. I can better understand others. And I can better understand that I don't need to understand others. I am learning because I absolutely hate eating my words, to not just keep my opinions to myself, but to stop forming them all together. I think that is a better form of compassion anyways.
While I may not not be much of one for resolutions, I do love how the new year draws that line on the track for me and lets me run in the direction I choose so that when the next year draws close I can look back and see how far I have come. So new year, I am going to try to keep my mouth shut more often, form fewer opinions about others, and focus my attention on how God sees me instead of others.
"Truly he taught us to love one another; His law is love and His gospel is peace."
-from "O Holy Night"
I think these lyrics pretty much sum it up for me. God gives us perfect love and perfect peace. And He calls us to live that way with others.
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