Embracing Being Enough

If you cannot think of anything appropriate to say, you will please restrict your remarks to the weather. 

Mrs. Dashwood, Sense and Sensibility

Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching. 

Hebrews 10:23-25

The other day, I stumbled my way out to my bedecked porch (see previous post obsessing over flowers) with coffee and breakfast in hand. I sat in the morning sun for the first time in a while, as the weather here as been up to its old slight-of-hand tricks. Sunny? Yes, but ALSO rainy! Seriously, last week, I sat in the sun after an afternoon walk, and lo and behold, there were RAINDROPS hitting the tree next to the porch. My poor brain can’t handle the sun AND the rain at the same time. It’s too much. And when I say it’s too much to handle, I also mean that it seems to be too much for the fibro body. Weather changes make it go haywire, and when you have multiple weather changes in a DAY, it goes into system overload. Anyway, FIBRO WEATHER RANT OVER. 

What I really mean to say is that while I was consuming the ol’ iced latte with half-open eyes and a sleepy brain, I saw a beautiful sight across the way. There’s a medical complex across the street, and THERE’S ALWAYS SOMETHING HAPPENING. Today, there were three women surrounding another woman with a walker, while she moved slowly around the parking lot. I believe there is a physical therapist’s office over yonder, and I am guessing that one of the women was the physical therapist. I thought it was wonderful for the woman with the walker to be accompanied not just by her medical provider, but also by two other women, maybe friends or relatives. I can’t help but imagine her story. Maybe this is the first time in a long time she can walk around by herself in the sunshine. Maybe this is after weeks or months of slow and intentional work in the physical therapist’s office, and working at home on what seemed like small or stupid exercises. Maybe she has had to keep going even though weeks of what seemed like no improvement. What struck me the most was that she was not alone. She had two friends obviously invested in her well-being, who cared enough to give up a morning to go to a medical appointment and walk around at her pace and ability. 

I recently read the book With by Skye Janthani, and it’s still resounding deeply in my mind. It centers around the theological idea that what God wants most from us is to be with us, that the relationship itself is more important than what He gets from us or what we want from Him. It’s a revolutionary idea in light of our productivity-centered culture, especially when it comes to faith and religion and living out those truths. It stuck me today watching the women walk all together that when we are with each other, we are acting on Christ’s behalf to each other. We become His hands and feet when we choose to simply be with others. This is one of the most beautiful ways we show the world who He is. We may not know exactly what to say or what not to say to others, especially if they are in pain or suffering or in deep grief, but we can simply sit with others. Or walk with them, as the women across the street did this morning. 

As believers in Jesus, we are called to follow His very example, called to become more and more like Him. In John 13, we are given a picture of what this looks like. Jesus washed His disciples’ feet like the most common of servants. Feet get a bad rap at the best of times, and in ancient cultures, washing feet was among the lowest of tasks. Obviously walking everywhere was the main form of transportation, so one can only imagine the state of feet back then. For Peter, the most impetuous and impulsive of the disciples, this was too much. He believed Jesus was the Messiah, the One to set His people free from tyranny, and this was insane behavior from the Savior of Israel. Imagine if President Obama or Queen Elizabeth or even your pastor or professor or boss washed your feet. And you haven’t had a pedicure for a while. And you didn’t wear socks with your flats all day. I mean, seriously. It would have been embarrassing. But Jesus makes it clear what he’s up to when He says,

You call me Lord and Teacher, and you are right, for so I am. If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, that you also should do just as I have to you. Truly, truly, I say to you, a servant is not greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him (John 13:13-16).

Jesus shows us what it looks like to really be with others—we become servants to all, we look out for others, we provide relief and refreshment, a place for others to truly be themselves. 

Maybe we don’t think of ourselves as ideal hosts or counselor-types or competent to offer what others need. Maybe we feel awkward or at a loss for words. We have to remember that we will never feel perfectly ready to fully be with people. There will always be an excuse or a reason to not offer what we have to others, sometimes very good reasons! However, the ability to be with people, along with any other spiritual gifts or resources, comes from Jesus. He is the One who takes what we have and makes it enough, like the miracles of the loaves and fishes. All He asks is that we show up and plunk ourselves next to His people, His children, the happy and the sad. The apostle Paul says in his letter to the Romans to rejoice with the rejoicing and to mourn with the mourning (Romans 12:15). When we do this, we will find ourselves in the middle of miracles. Because we can do anything, face any struggle, celebrate fully when we know we are not alone. We can take more steps forward, like the woman across the street, when in the company of friends. This is love. This is bringing the kingdom of God in the middle of our daily grind. Jesus promised that the world would know we are His when we love each other. In our busy, productive, networking world, we can practice being present with those around us. We can trust that He will also be present, that He will be completely with us, that He will make something beautiful of our small gifts of time and love and words. 

BLOOMS! GREENERY! SUNSHINE!

Truth and grace. 

SO.MUCH.PINK.

The view above the kitchen sink. 

Learning how to have people over when things aren't PERFECT. It's a THING.

Worship and the Lost Week

 “Bertie,” she said—in part and chattily—“it is young men like you who make the person with the future of the race at heart despair!”

    “What-ho!” I said. 

    “Cursed with too much money, you fritter away in selfish idleness a life which might have been made useful, helpful, and profitable. You do nothing but waste your time on frivolous pleasures. You are simply an anti-social animal, a drone—“ She fixed me with a glittering eye. 

-P.G. Wodehouse, Scoring off Jeeves

“Be still, and know that I am God.

    I will be exalted among the nations,

    I will be exalted in the earth!”

-Psalm 46:10

I have been surviving the past few days on Pamprin and kid’s chocolate rice crisps cereal. No joke. 

My stomach has felt as stable as a ping pong ball in a free-falling elevator for about 95% of the last four days. SO FUN, YOU GUYS. 

The hot water bottle has been a permanent fixture, a constant companion. My one complaint about the new and very fancy BLUE bottle is that I can’t get it hot enough. I need it to feel like it’s been recently fetched from somewhere deep within the gates of Hades.

I watched the remainder of Half-Price Paradise and Lakefront Bargain Hunt on Netflix. Now if that’s not desperation for distraction, I’m not sure what is. 

As for the rest of my bodily ills, I won’t enlighten you with the details, as you may be trying to drink a lovely cup of coffee or eat a muffin while you read this. Also, my dignity (slip-shod as it may be) won’t allow it. I AM A LADY, DANGIT. 

So it’s been quite the WEEK, let me tell you. I am finally starting to feel more human, but thinking about this week is like looking down after you’ve climbed The Cliffs of Insanity. Or like how you feel after getting off a roller coaster. WOOZY. But ALIVE. Yesterday I managed to stumble out to the balcony for the first time in a few days, and it was wonderful to sit in the sun, feel the breeze, be surrounded by my still-alive flowers, and just be outside. It was so great that I did it again this morning. Just changing location, even by a few feet, can be everything. 

So often, when times like these hit, it’s all we can do to simply hang on, grit our teeth, and pray for a better day tomorrow. And that’s ok. I offered up very simple prayers this week, consisting mostly of “help” and “please.” I also played songs to remind me of God’s love and presence and help, because I need reminders of those things in the middle of trouble. Troubles and sorrows of all kinds threaten to keep our heads down, instead of looking to Jesus in all our circumstances. 

It’s also weeks like this when I’m finally able to come to, in a sense, and be MAJORLY PUT OUT that I was not able to do more, or take steps towards work or health, or be productive. You know, ACTION. Because that’s what my culture values and praises, and totally applauds. Both in and out of the church. And while it’s true that faith without works is dead (James 2:17), there are many kinds of works, aren’t there? God treasures it when we do ANYTHING for Him, even giving a cup of cold water to a child (Matthew 10:42). Also, I’ve been reading in the book of Revelation lately and was reminded that there are creatures that exist to fly around the Throne of God just to worship Him. Just to sing His praise, just to profess the goodness of the Lord. Day and night, they NEVER cease to sing, NEVER cease to give God glory (Revelation 4:6-11). It’s a beautiful and terrifying and mysterious look into God’s presence. 

Whatever else we may think of the book of Revelation*, this is a powerful picture of worship, and it gives me great hope. Because there are days when I wish I could be out, DOING things for God, saving the world, etc. You know, the usual things that my Purpose Driven generation wants to be doing. But God has such a different and gorgeous idea of what “doing” things for Him means, and that changes Every Single Thing. When I’m stuck in my house, pinned to the couch by pain, I can still worship Him. I can still praise Him. Like those creatures who fly around the Throne with wings to cover their hands and feet, I can proclaim the ultimate reality of the holiness and worthiness and goodness and power of God. From my couch. If that’s not transformation, I’m not sure what is. If that’s not redemption of some pretty miserable circumstances, I’m not sure what is. When I can stop focusing at my problems for a moment, and gaze at the beauty of the Lord, my problems don’t disappear, but they are redeemed.

Of course, the skeptics and the pessimists will ask why praise a God who lets me be in mysterious pain, who could change it all with one word, one wave of His hand? Why should I thank Him even though He doesn’t stop my troubles? This is an age-old question, of course. And I of course struggle with my attitude and my own questions constantly. But here is the thing: I know God is with me. I know He has supported me through my whole life. I know He has rescued me from my twisted dark places, and has fully and completely reconciled me to Himself. I know exactly how He has changed me. I know He promised we will all have trouble and suffering, but He also promised He will never leave us or forsake us. I know He is Goodness and Beauty and Peace and Love Himself. I know He is the Creator and Redeemer of this world. And as Revelation reminds us, He is coming soon to finish His redemptive work. And it will be beautiful and perfect and we will all be whole because we will be fully with Him. 

This is why I can praise Him exactly where I’m at, no matter what is happening. He is, like the four living creatures sing, holy and worthy. I am filled with joy at the thought that I too get to praise Him, no matter what I am or am not. Jesus told the Samaritan woman in John 4 that the Father is looking for worshipers, who will worship Him in spirit and truth (John 4:23). Not in activity and busy-ness, not in lists of good deeds accomplished. But in spirit, in truth. In trusting Him, in seeking Him in everything we do. When we know Him, our praise will naturally overflow and magnify the Lord in all His goodness to all the world. In the middle of the mess, the chaos, the broken bits and dashed dreams, He is working. He is Immanuel, God with Us.

*I’ve been reading the most wonderful book on this last book of the New Testament: Joy in Our Weakness, by Marva J. Dawn. I love, love this author. She has a wonderful book on illness called Being Well When We’re Ill, which has changed my perspective on being a Christian with physical sickness. Dawn is a theologian with many degrees AND has a host of chronic illnesses herself—I am so thankful to have read her books. Check her out!

It really is FANCY,  isn't it? For a water bottle, I mean. 

I know you all needed an update on these beauties. 

This is REALITY, and it's all good. 

A New Thing

Let no one caught in sin remain

Inside the lie of inward shame

We fix our eyes upon the cross

And run to him who showed great love

And bled for us

Freely you bled, for us

Christ is risen from the dead

Trampling over death by death

Come awake, come awake!

Come and rise up from the grave!

Christ is risen from the dead

We are one with him again

Come awake, come awake!

Come and rise up from the grave!

-Matt Maher, Christ is Risen

“Remember not the former things, 

nor consider the things of old. 

Behold, I am doing a new thing; 

now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? 

I will make a way in the wilderness
and rivers in the desert. 

Isaiah 43:16-19

My darlings. 

You guys. I am OBSESSING over my balcony. It has become, for the first time in 5 and a half years, one of my favorite spots in our apartment. I now practically haunt the balcony, worrying over the one yellow leaf on one of the petunia plants, fussing like a mother hen over the dirt (is it too wet? Too dry? Should I add more fertilizer?). I am watching the progress of new blooms blossoming with great anticipatory delight. I am moving the wide planter of petunias and the cute little white flowers around to catch more sun during the day, like a human sundial. I am now sweeping up the floor on a regular basis. This is big, as it means I can go outside without shuddering in my flip-flops, like a nervous freshman in community bathrooms. I now try to get outside as soon as possible, both to enjoy the delightful morning sun hitting the balcony and to soak up some light after being enshrouded in the twilight of sleep. I water the flowers before I start my coffee, usually. So, yes. I am a woman obsessed. 

What brought on this transformation, you may well ask? This sudden, abnormal behavior of a Anti-Green Thumb who formally forgot about watering a houseplant till it’s 6 months later and it’s wilted beyond recognition? When the New Plant Glow wears off, and I turn to other more important distractions and activities? When I buy herbs in a kind of feverish, grim resolution that THIS will be the year I enjoy fresh mint mojitos, fresh basil in pasta, fresh cilantro in ALL THE THINGS? Only to watch helplessly as they shrivel and wither and generally give up their herby ghosts? 

Well, it started with the coming doom of a Very Hot Summer Ahead, and asking my beloved father to bring over the ol’ Shop-Vac and erase the effects of a long winter, with its dead and crackling leaves, its sheen of dirt and 30+plus years of who knows what? The DIFFERENCE, I tell you! I could patter out to the patio in bare feet and not cringe inwardly. Or outwardly, for that matter. I could putter about, planting flowers and moving terra cotta pots hither and yon. I could finally lay down the outdoor mats I bought without merely covering the evidence. I hung my silvery Words on Walls purchase above the chairs. And voilá, it felt like home! It felt new, like I’d never really seen it before. It finally felt like a place I wanted to be all the time. Sun-filled, flower-filled, Sarah-in-chair-filled. 

When you want to be some place all the time, it’s easy to care for it. To delight in the very work of maintenance and upkeep. To try to give it the best chance possible. To gently coax it into what it’s meant to be. 

And, of course, this is how God Himself sees us. 

He wants to be with us all the time. He cares for us, delights over us, croons over each new blossom, over each new effort or skill learned or hard thing conquered. He gives us everything we need to grow into whom He’s made us to be. He sees us as new delightful creatures every morning, He sees to us each first thing. Every time we pray, every time we seek His kingdom in our lives, every time we practice loving others before ourselves, He is filled with a kind of pride and joy. All because He rejoices in our very existence, our very being, our very humanity. Zephaniah 3:17 even says He dances over us with loud singing! 

Thankfully He is not daunted by a long winter of the soul. He is not discouraged when we dry out or start to wither or collect a little dust. Even though I am a city dweller through and through, it is easy to see why Jesus refers to God the Father as the Gardener and Himself as the vine in John 15. The Vinedresser takes away the branches that don’t bear fruit and prunes the ones that do. When we remain in the vine, remain in the branch of living with Jesus, we will bear much fruit, for God Himself sees to it, that we are pruned and trimmed and weeded and watered. He is glorified when we bear fruit, when we bloom, meaning that we show the world more of who He is. And that is exactly what the world needs. 

The world needs His beauty. His truth. His grace. His gentle pruning of the things that keep us from Him and from others. 

And somehow, through His mind-boggling plans, we get to be part of showing Him off to a world sick for beauty, sick for wholeness, sick for truth. 

But as Jesus points out, nothing can bloom like its supposed to with remaining in the vine, without taking deep root. You see, we can do nothing without Him. We can be nothing without Him. We are built to be forever with Him. Gloriously designed to walk with God Himself in the cool of the day, and the heat of the day, and everything in between. We do nothing without the Gardener caring over us. And this is one of the best parts of the Gospel, although at first we may balk at not being able to do everything by ourselves. Flowers fulfill their true purposes by just blooming. When we can throw ourselves on the caring mercy and love of our Father in faith, no matter how many times we have to keep doing it, we will know Him. We will be with Him, just as we are intended to be. It is, truly and mysteriously, all about Jesus, doing the work in us and through us. 

No matter how slowly it all seems to be taking, how long it seems to take to throw off the weight of winter, how invisible His works seem to be, we can take hope in the truth that He is attentive and loving. We can’t see what He’s doing in the darkness. We can’t even begin to know what He is doing in us, because we would be dumbfounded and tongue-tied and knock-kneed. Let’s look to the Vinedresser, because He is always doing a new thing, He will make a way where there is no way, He will create rivers in our deserts, and hope in our sorrows. No matter where we find ourselves, in wilderness, in storm, in trial, we will find ourselves at home and with Him. 

Just a little sun. PERFECTION. 

Hope springs eternal, and hopefully these will too!

I told you I moved around the planter all the TIME.

Home indeed.