I don't know if I've ever mentioned this, but most nights I'm lucky if I'm not eating ravioli out of a can.
That truly was a fabulous moment on a sweet Monday night.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Monday's Fabulous Moment
It passed us by. I'm not gonna lie. We missed it. As we sat down to eat dinner tonight the phone rang. Sarah picked it up, looked at the caller ID and set it back down. Erich and I looked up and she said, "It's the NRA. " What...MFM right there. Just as I realized that this was my chance, it stopped ringing. The MFM that got away. That being said, Monday had a truly fabulous moment. Erich made dinner. Greek salad. Red pepper hummus and pita bread. Chicken stuffed with spinach, feta and mayo and wrapped in bacon. Oh my...
A week of rest...
This week I get to spend a few days resting with and getting loved on by this bunch...
...and it is SO sweet. I'm learning that I am terrible at resting. I love it for a day. And then I feel recharged and ready to get back to life. Ready to be productive. Whatever that means. But this week is going to be different. Because yesterday I was ready to go. But didn't have to. Today I was ready to go. But didn't have to. And while there's a part of me that almost gets anxious, I realize that this is what God calls us to. This is where we get to re-center, re-focus, and come back to Him. And what better way to do it this week than with old friends and a precious little one. I traveled to Toledo, Ohio and have been completely loved and served and feel like I have all the time in the world to do whatever I want. I've been getting homecooked meals, napping in the middle of the day and watching movies. I couldn't feel more blessed to have such loving people to escape to and an amazing home to go back to at the end of the week.
...and it is SO sweet. I'm learning that I am terrible at resting. I love it for a day. And then I feel recharged and ready to get back to life. Ready to be productive. Whatever that means. But this week is going to be different. Because yesterday I was ready to go. But didn't have to. Today I was ready to go. But didn't have to. And while there's a part of me that almost gets anxious, I realize that this is what God calls us to. This is where we get to re-center, re-focus, and come back to Him. And what better way to do it this week than with old friends and a precious little one. I traveled to Toledo, Ohio and have been completely loved and served and feel like I have all the time in the world to do whatever I want. I've been getting homecooked meals, napping in the middle of the day and watching movies. I couldn't feel more blessed to have such loving people to escape to and an amazing home to go back to at the end of the week.
Bath Time!
Avery's first big girl bath...
This kid is a fish...
This kid is a fish...And the best part...the little raisin foot...
Friday, October 16, 2009
Living in Community
"They were continually devoting themselves to the apostles' teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone kept feeling a sense of awe; and many wonders and signs were taking place through the apostles. And all those who had believed were together and had all things in common; and they began selling their property and possessions and were sharing them with all, as anyone might have need. Day by day continuing with one mind in the temple, and breaking bread from house to house, they were taking their meals together with gladness and sincerity of heart, praising God and having favor with all the people And the Lord was adding to their number day by day those who were being saved."
Acts 2 lays out what a "Biblical community" looks like. It's something that I've heard discussed so much, that so many churches strive to facilitate. But for all the talk and all the attempts, when it comes down to it, it takes real people stepping up as a group and sacrificially choosing to live it out, every single day.
In the days leading up to my grandpa's death, I saw people step it up that way. My closest friends were in prayer for me and my family. They encouraged me and empathized with me, realizing that I had never been through this process before and didn't know what to expect or get taken care of. The day I found out he died, I had help making a "to-do" list of everything to get done before I left town in 24 hours, not knowing when I'd be back. I had a co-worker step up and work on her day off for me. I had a friend who made post office and leasing office runs for me and another one who went to the mall with me to find an outfit for the funeral. Plans were put on hold to get me to the airport and my family was waiting and ready to do whatever they needed to once I got there.
My family exhibited qualities of Biblical community that could be a blog post all their own.
Throughout that week I got numerous text messages and emails from my Austin family. I'm not sure an hour went by on the day of the funeral that I didn't hear from a different person. Simply realizing that it was important enough to my friends that they even spread the word to so many people about it was mind-boggling in itself.
Upon returning to Austin, a hard journey, I came back to something even more amazing. The exact amount of money needed to cover the cost of a wildly expensive, last minute, surprise plane ticket home. Money that had been provided by my friends and parents of the girls in my Bible study that quite by God's grace covered the cost almost to the dollar. This is where I got a little lost...
In America we learn to be independent and strong financially. We graciously turn down things that are given to us, thinking that it would be weak or even unfair for someone else to give us what they rightfully earned. My head, influenced by 25 years in this society, told me to somehow figure out how to just give it back, despite not knowing where it all really came from.
But I was convicted. And I was wrong. And I got a serious heart check.
Of the many spiritual gifts God has blessed His people with, one is giving, a gift that not only implies a desire to give to others, but the means to do so as well. If I were to not accept such a gift, I would be hindering the good work God had called others to do. They had responded graciously and obediently and for me to give that back to them would be wrong, put at its most simple. I thought about the hours I've spent with my 7th graders. The time I've been able to give to them, realizing that I don't do it out of obligation to them or God. I do it because it's a gift and a passion God has given me and it's one of the ways I find the most JOY in serving. If any of those parents were ever to look at me and say, "We so appreciate the thought, but we'd really like you to stop spending time with our girls because we want you to keep your time," I would be crushed. Even if it was quite well-intentioned, it would take something from me that brings me tremendous joy. Using our spiritual gifts is one of the most fulfilling and satisfying actions that we have in life. And I seriously considered taking that opportunity from someone else.
To do so would have been...prideful. Arrogant. Stupid.
Acts 2 says that the apostles were selling what they had and sharing it with anyone in need. And what is extremely humbling to admit is that I was in need. No, I don't have $600 stashed away somewhere to pay for emergencies. And while someone could have looked at me and instead thought that it was my own fault and I'd just have to figure it out, they didn't. They just provided for me when I was in need out of what God had blessed them with.
More than ever, I understood community.
There's an amazing part of that passage that somehow is so easy to read over. The very last sentence says that day by day people were being saved. EVERY DAY people were being saved because they saw the response of the disciples' faith, which was so contrary to the tendencies toward selfishness and independence.
I could never be more thankful to be the recipient of such community. And while I may never be given the opportunity to return the favor, I pray that God will give me the opportunity to use my gifts in such an extravagant way for others.
Acts 2 lays out what a "Biblical community" looks like. It's something that I've heard discussed so much, that so many churches strive to facilitate. But for all the talk and all the attempts, when it comes down to it, it takes real people stepping up as a group and sacrificially choosing to live it out, every single day.
In the days leading up to my grandpa's death, I saw people step it up that way. My closest friends were in prayer for me and my family. They encouraged me and empathized with me, realizing that I had never been through this process before and didn't know what to expect or get taken care of. The day I found out he died, I had help making a "to-do" list of everything to get done before I left town in 24 hours, not knowing when I'd be back. I had a co-worker step up and work on her day off for me. I had a friend who made post office and leasing office runs for me and another one who went to the mall with me to find an outfit for the funeral. Plans were put on hold to get me to the airport and my family was waiting and ready to do whatever they needed to once I got there.
My family exhibited qualities of Biblical community that could be a blog post all their own.
Throughout that week I got numerous text messages and emails from my Austin family. I'm not sure an hour went by on the day of the funeral that I didn't hear from a different person. Simply realizing that it was important enough to my friends that they even spread the word to so many people about it was mind-boggling in itself.
Upon returning to Austin, a hard journey, I came back to something even more amazing. The exact amount of money needed to cover the cost of a wildly expensive, last minute, surprise plane ticket home. Money that had been provided by my friends and parents of the girls in my Bible study that quite by God's grace covered the cost almost to the dollar. This is where I got a little lost...
In America we learn to be independent and strong financially. We graciously turn down things that are given to us, thinking that it would be weak or even unfair for someone else to give us what they rightfully earned. My head, influenced by 25 years in this society, told me to somehow figure out how to just give it back, despite not knowing where it all really came from.
But I was convicted. And I was wrong. And I got a serious heart check.
Of the many spiritual gifts God has blessed His people with, one is giving, a gift that not only implies a desire to give to others, but the means to do so as well. If I were to not accept such a gift, I would be hindering the good work God had called others to do. They had responded graciously and obediently and for me to give that back to them would be wrong, put at its most simple. I thought about the hours I've spent with my 7th graders. The time I've been able to give to them, realizing that I don't do it out of obligation to them or God. I do it because it's a gift and a passion God has given me and it's one of the ways I find the most JOY in serving. If any of those parents were ever to look at me and say, "We so appreciate the thought, but we'd really like you to stop spending time with our girls because we want you to keep your time," I would be crushed. Even if it was quite well-intentioned, it would take something from me that brings me tremendous joy. Using our spiritual gifts is one of the most fulfilling and satisfying actions that we have in life. And I seriously considered taking that opportunity from someone else.
To do so would have been...prideful. Arrogant. Stupid.
Acts 2 says that the apostles were selling what they had and sharing it with anyone in need. And what is extremely humbling to admit is that I was in need. No, I don't have $600 stashed away somewhere to pay for emergencies. And while someone could have looked at me and instead thought that it was my own fault and I'd just have to figure it out, they didn't. They just provided for me when I was in need out of what God had blessed them with.
More than ever, I understood community.
There's an amazing part of that passage that somehow is so easy to read over. The very last sentence says that day by day people were being saved. EVERY DAY people were being saved because they saw the response of the disciples' faith, which was so contrary to the tendencies toward selfishness and independence.
I could never be more thankful to be the recipient of such community. And while I may never be given the opportunity to return the favor, I pray that God will give me the opportunity to use my gifts in such an extravagant way for others.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
A few scattered thoughts
On September 1st I posted a Monday's Fabulous Moment about my grandma, and commented on how lucky I was that at 25 I still had all four of my grandparents. And just over a month later on October 3rd, that changed. My grandpa passed away at about 6:00 that morning after a perforated ulcer caused infection to spread through his body. He was 78 years old and while I knew in my head that these people won't live forever I realized in the shock of his death that I never actually believed it. He was tough. A Korean War hero. He was strong and courageous. I guess I just never thought a standard infection would be something that could take him, especially not as quickly as it did.
Grandpa died on Saturday and I flew home on Sunday. I walked into my aunt's house and wrapped my arms around my grandma, and through tears she said, "Your grandpa loved you so, so much. He was really proud of you." All those feelings of guilt, the whole why-do-I-live-so-far-away-from-my-family thoughts disappear when brought into that light. Because I know that we're not all called to simply stay put. God moves us around and brings us to the places that will be the most glorifying to Him.
"...and He made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined their appointed times and the boundaries of their habitation, that they would seek God, if perhaps they might grope for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us; for in Him we live and move and exist..."
~Acts 17: 26-28
And I knew Grandpa was okay with that. I knew every time I talked to him and he'd say, "Hey Jen! How's Austin!?" I knew every time he started one of our phone conversations by asking me how the weather was. He was the kind of grandpa that let us kids ride his four wheeler down dirt roads and too close to ponds without requiring adult supervision. He was the kind of grandpa that taught us how to drive his van out in the field. The kind that I could be at total peace knowing that he genuinely was okay with me going wherever I needed to go in the world. Because of that, I could return home to my family that weekend, welcomed and loved like no time had passed since I was last with them.
The service was beautiful. A military funeral like he deserved. Up until this point, I had never been through the death of a close family member. I would see other people at funerals and visitations and they always seemed so...put together. I never understood it. I had heard of and read about "peace that surpasses all understanding," but until I had the opportunity to stand for 4 hours visiting with family members, talking to the pastor that would be doing grandpa's service, and seeing the box of his ashes sitting on a table surrounded by pictures of him, I had never felt that peace quite so obviously. I told one of my dad's cousins I felt like I had a God shield around me. There was just this calm in my heart, the same calm that I saw in my grandmother. The kind of calm that allowed me to tell the pastor stories and just laugh. The kind that allowed me to look at all the pictures and remember the good things and just smile. The kind of calm that doesn't really allow you to feel the depth of death all at once. It wasn't a fog like I always thought it might be. I was very coherent and remembering everything that happened, every conversation, every laugh.
It's like God just lets you have little pieces at a time though. If it all really sank in at once, we simply wouldn't make it through. But I believe there are times when you have to hand things over to God to carry. And then there are other times when He simply doesn't give you an option. He simply holds onto the heaviness, and brings it to you, piece by piece, as He deems necessary.
The time I had with my family that week was sweet. We went back to the land my grandparents lived on, one of two places that I've been able to call home from childhood to today. I'll soon be down to one place, my other grandparents' home, when that land gets sold. But I looked out at the pond and remembered my grandpa calling the fish in the morning, the fish who knew he was carrying food for them. I went into the woods and found the fort he had helped build for us when we were kids. I sat on the patio outside where he made the best barbecue in the world. I went in the room where I slept one summer and tried not to cry when I got waken up by coyotes howling. I sat at the kitchen table and ate soup with my grandma and we talked about how he made the best homemade french fries, and how he used to pick on me that of everything he cooked so well my favorite thing was french fries.
It really was just a precious time, leaning into my family and being given the opportunity to be leaned on every now and then. As the days have gone by, and I realize that a week ago today I came back to Austin. And a week before that I got the call that he was in the hospital. And the week before that it wasn't even a thought in my mind, I realize how powerless I am. And how powerful our God is. How sovereign. How sweet.
My grandma said it best that weekend: "This was the Lord's will." Thy will be done.
Grandpa died on Saturday and I flew home on Sunday. I walked into my aunt's house and wrapped my arms around my grandma, and through tears she said, "Your grandpa loved you so, so much. He was really proud of you." All those feelings of guilt, the whole why-do-I-live-so-far-away-from-my-family thoughts disappear when brought into that light. Because I know that we're not all called to simply stay put. God moves us around and brings us to the places that will be the most glorifying to Him.
"...and He made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined their appointed times and the boundaries of their habitation, that they would seek God, if perhaps they might grope for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us; for in Him we live and move and exist..."
~Acts 17: 26-28
And I knew Grandpa was okay with that. I knew every time I talked to him and he'd say, "Hey Jen! How's Austin!?" I knew every time he started one of our phone conversations by asking me how the weather was. He was the kind of grandpa that let us kids ride his four wheeler down dirt roads and too close to ponds without requiring adult supervision. He was the kind of grandpa that taught us how to drive his van out in the field. The kind that I could be at total peace knowing that he genuinely was okay with me going wherever I needed to go in the world. Because of that, I could return home to my family that weekend, welcomed and loved like no time had passed since I was last with them.
The service was beautiful. A military funeral like he deserved. Up until this point, I had never been through the death of a close family member. I would see other people at funerals and visitations and they always seemed so...put together. I never understood it. I had heard of and read about "peace that surpasses all understanding," but until I had the opportunity to stand for 4 hours visiting with family members, talking to the pastor that would be doing grandpa's service, and seeing the box of his ashes sitting on a table surrounded by pictures of him, I had never felt that peace quite so obviously. I told one of my dad's cousins I felt like I had a God shield around me. There was just this calm in my heart, the same calm that I saw in my grandmother. The kind of calm that allowed me to tell the pastor stories and just laugh. The kind that allowed me to look at all the pictures and remember the good things and just smile. The kind of calm that doesn't really allow you to feel the depth of death all at once. It wasn't a fog like I always thought it might be. I was very coherent and remembering everything that happened, every conversation, every laugh.
It's like God just lets you have little pieces at a time though. If it all really sank in at once, we simply wouldn't make it through. But I believe there are times when you have to hand things over to God to carry. And then there are other times when He simply doesn't give you an option. He simply holds onto the heaviness, and brings it to you, piece by piece, as He deems necessary.
The time I had with my family that week was sweet. We went back to the land my grandparents lived on, one of two places that I've been able to call home from childhood to today. I'll soon be down to one place, my other grandparents' home, when that land gets sold. But I looked out at the pond and remembered my grandpa calling the fish in the morning, the fish who knew he was carrying food for them. I went into the woods and found the fort he had helped build for us when we were kids. I sat on the patio outside where he made the best barbecue in the world. I went in the room where I slept one summer and tried not to cry when I got waken up by coyotes howling. I sat at the kitchen table and ate soup with my grandma and we talked about how he made the best homemade french fries, and how he used to pick on me that of everything he cooked so well my favorite thing was french fries.
It really was just a precious time, leaning into my family and being given the opportunity to be leaned on every now and then. As the days have gone by, and I realize that a week ago today I came back to Austin. And a week before that I got the call that he was in the hospital. And the week before that it wasn't even a thought in my mind, I realize how powerless I am. And how powerful our God is. How sovereign. How sweet.
My grandma said it best that weekend: "This was the Lord's will." Thy will be done.
Monday, October 12, 2009
I have a couple little pet peeves...
I'm not a generally annoyed or bothered person. But 2 things got me today:
#1. The bank being closed on Columbus Day. Why. I don't even know what Columbus Day is.
#2. Twitter language. I don't speak it. I don't read it. I don't understand it. I appreciate the twitter social circle on facebook and that I choose not to be part of that circle. That part I'm okay with. But, if your facebook status is seeking help, or needing people to serve, don't write it in Twitter-speak. We don't all speak that language. And I don't want to have a translator just to figure out what you need help with.
:) Other than that, just enjoying a quiet rainy day in Austin, Texas.
#1. The bank being closed on Columbus Day. Why. I don't even know what Columbus Day is.
#2. Twitter language. I don't speak it. I don't read it. I don't understand it. I appreciate the twitter social circle on facebook and that I choose not to be part of that circle. That part I'm okay with. But, if your facebook status is seeking help, or needing people to serve, don't write it in Twitter-speak. We don't all speak that language. And I don't want to have a translator just to figure out what you need help with.
:) Other than that, just enjoying a quiet rainy day in Austin, Texas.
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