Ignorance is not bliss

This has been a full summer for our family.  Bringing home a new baby, celebrating a full year of our previous three additions arriving home and navigating all the challenges that we each bring to the table has been more than a full time job.  As part of our plan for the fall, we had some of the kids tested for food intolerances for a variety of reasons.  The results were a bit overwhelming.  When compiled together, the list of acceptable foods was quite limited.  I’ve spent the last 2 weeks trying to figure out how to cook gluten-free, dairy-free, soy-free, cocoa-free, vanilla-free, beef-free, turkey-free….and on and on.  I felt overwhelmed, crabby, exhausted and downright annoyed at our new limited diet.  Cooking for a family of 10 everyday is a challenge in and of itself, but cooking to our new dietary needs and managing all the little emotions that go along with those changes seemed almost unbearable.  I found myself being filled with self-pity longing for someone to see just how hard I had it and give me a gold star for effort….even if my attitude was rotten.  After a full day (literally) of meal-planning, label-reading, ingredient hunting, store-hopping-shopping I flopped down on my bed with the baby thoroughly annoyed and overwhelmed and scrolled through the Facebook newsfeeds. It was then and there in the midst of my selfish sulking that the LORD pricked my heart.  In a mater of five minutes I read about the deep conflict and atrocities in Israel and Gaza, the use of girls (likely the ones kidnapped awhile back) in Nigeria as suicide bombers, and the systematic killing of Christians in Iraq including the beheading of children.  Suddenly, my day felt so blessed, my home so sweet (even with all the scrapping and whining of my kids), and my heart so full.  We live in a unique time in history where in a matter of minutes we have access to news and world events from literally every corner of the earth.  We have an instant window into the darkness and evil being played out across our globe with as much detail and more photos that we can stomach.  It seems like the human soul wasn’t meant to witness so many vast, pervasive displays of horror and suffering at once.  It felt to me as though living on a prairie 150 ago where the only news you got was read in a newspaper delivered by stagecoach weeks after the event happened would have been much easier.  Upon reading those posts, I was filled with such varying and conflicting emotions (sorrow, rage, love, escapism, thankfulness, helplessness,) with the unanswered question pulsing through me for days, “What am I supposed to do?”  The first step was clear: get a grip and stop whining about how difficult my life is….seriously!  The second thought was give thanks.  Thank the LORD that my 12 year girl is home, with her brothers laughing and playing not strapped to a vest full of explosives intended to destroy her life and as many others as possible.  Thank the LORD that we have food….who cares how many labels I had to read to find it.  Our bellies are full every night; we sleep in our beds safely without fear of being driven out, dragged into the streets or starving on the top of a mountain.  Thank the LORD that the only cries I hear from my children are over a little skinned knee, a plan gone awry, or hurt feelings due to sibling rivalry.  I’ve never heard them scream in terror or watched them suffer.  Thank the LORD, that at least in this time of history I don’t have to be worried about my boys being made child-soldiers, or my babies watching their parents be tortured to death. 

            After those first obvious conclusions, the horrible tension of living where I am in this easy blessed state while being aware of the ongoing atrocities around the world would not ease.  In the midst of this internal struggle the parable of the talents came to mind along with the persistent refrain “to whom much is given, much is required.”  I don’t live on a prairie 150 year ago.  I live in America where (regardless of all our problems) we are still a free, democratic, wealthy, powerful nation with some sense of right and wrong.  God put me in this place, in this time, with the information before me for a purpose.  So, I continued to ask: “What am I to do?”  I’m a mother of eight.  Parachuting into enemy territory to rescue the suffering isn’t exactly feasible, but there must be something between that and doing nothing!  So, I decided to look a little deeper let my heart go a little further.  I found reports and photos depicting the horrors in Iraq.  I don’t know who coined the phrase ignorance is bliss….but it isn’t.  Ignorance is just ignorance.  I saw images that made my stomach churn and my hands tremble.   They were images never hope to see again, but don’t regret seeing because it is really happening.  I wept hot, angry, desperate, broken tears because of the sheer wickedness being done specifically in Iraq….I am not being dramatic it is wicked.  I wept wondering what those children were thinking in the moments before their death.  I wept wondering if their parents were forced to watch.  I wept to considering watching your children starve to death in front of you and being helpless to save them.  I wept over my own selfishness because I didn’t want to know, didn’t want to see, didn’t want to care.  God forgive me.  There are a thousand other thoughts that may come pouring out on the page over the next few days.  There is more, so much more that can, is, and may be done. But, for the moment as I am still a mother of eight and there are little ones I need to go laugh with, hold, and care for because for today I still can and that is a gift I can no longer take for granted.   

What does it mean to be a man? (Part 5)

Written by Paul Larson

Day 3 on the River: Big Rapids

I emerged from the tent in the morning to find old Sven walking around his campsite now with nothing on.  I told the kids to stay in the tent until he decided to put those tiny shorts on again.  That site would have scarred them more than the bear siting yesterday.  That seemed like the Lord's answer to hop on the river take one turn at a time. Isn't life like that sometimes?  The Lord was not opening doors for me to walk through and only gave me a line of site far enough to take one step.  I didn't know how the day was going to end up and I prayed that He would be merciful with me.  I am sure I was too hasty in my preparations and at this point just asked that He would not take it out on my kids.

We arrived to the take out point before all the big rapids and my cell wasn't working and there was not a soul in site.  Surely there had to be youth groups on the river or someone.  It became evident that The Lord wanted me to proceed down the river at this point and yet again remind me that being a man was to trust Him implicitly.

I had planned to pull the canoe on the side of the river prior to the rapids and let the boys walk down river.  I could hear the rapids approaching.  What started as the sound of wind blowing through the trees escalated to a roar and before I knew it the current had pulled me into the center of the river.  This is the time when I wished that I would have read the reviews a little more closely.  I now know what a "ledge" is.  And they were very specific when they made that word plural on the map.  All I could see in front of me was the river for another 50 yards or so and then it disappeared.  Normally, you are supposed to check these things out and pick your route.  There was none of that for us on this day.  We were going over and I did my best to prepare the boys.

Going into a fearful situation illicited a very interesting reaction from each person.  For Gabriel, he began asking me a million questions about what it was going to be like or what would happen if we tipped (as if I hadn't thought about all those outcomes all night).  Jaden's response wasn't much more helpful.  He began signing one of the most annoying Disney songs on the planet "Let it go" from Frozen.  He only knows three words so he proceeded to repeat them over and over again.  All I could get out before we went over the ledge was, "get on your knees and hold on!".

We made it over the first ledge while taking on plenty of water in the canoe.  I wasn't sure if the ledge we just went over took off all the putty on the bottom of our rental canoe and opened the holes once again or if that was water from over the top.  No time to figure that out because what I saw ahead convinced me that we would be taking on plenty more water before we were done.  The river had three more ledges (each a 3-4 foot drop) in a row.  There was no "picking your line" or paddling your way through this.  We were going to hold on for dear life and pray that God kept our boat upright.  After the first major ledge I noticed the carnage from previous travelers strewn in the tree leaning across the rapids.  There were canoe paddles, soda bottles, coolers and other personal belongings that were irretrievable.  We collided into just about every rock on the river in the next five minutes that felt like the were passing in slow motion.  But God, in His mercy, took what could have been a really bad situation and used it to display His glory.  We made it through the rapids and the boys were still in the boat.

Later that night we read about the incident when David went to Nabal and asked for some food for his 400 hundred men in return for the protection of Nabal's flock.  Nabal yelled at David's messengers and suggested that they were theives.  David, under what He thought was God's direction, was bent on killing Nabal and all his men.  As David approached Nabal's home set on returning evil for evil, God sent a messenger to correct David's actions and show him the fault in his ways.  Abigail was that messenger and dissuaded David from doing something equally foolish to Nabal's actions.

God did that for me too.  I set out to teach my boys how to be men and felt totally justified that I had the purest of motives.  Midway through I realized I had no idea what I was doing and that I was taking the lives of others in my hands.  God's mercy prevailed though and He gave me an out just like He gave to David in Abigail.  The Lord changed my perspective and taught me that being being a man was much more about complete dependence upon Him.  Each of us, in our own ways tries to "manage" life.  Gabriel does it with questions.  Jaden does it with that stupid snow man song.  I do it with trying to be in control (majority ownership, leading everything, etc) of every situation.  What is it that you do that prevents you from experiencing all that God wants from you in a life completely dependent upon Him?

A man is one that recognizes his weakness and is desperately in need of a Savior every moment in his life.  More of Christ, less of us. 

What does it mean to be a man? (Part 4)

Written by Paul Larson

Day 2 on the River: A Day of Reflection

Today the plan was to enjoy the "slower part" of the river.  There were not any rapids in today's venue and I thought it would be a great opportunity to digest all that we have been reading about over the past few days.  We started the day reading about David's friendship with Jonathan.  It was interesting to me that the future and rightful heir, Jonathan, took it upon himself to love David as himself.  Surely Jonathan must have realized that David was a threat to his career and fortunes.  The boys and I discussed how the true mark of a man was one who was resolved to submitting to God's will.  Jonathan saw that God was with David and wanted nothing more than to support the Lord's anointed.  His father Saul did not share these sentiments though and God sent an evil spirit to torment him the rest of his days.  Why do we fight so hard against God's plans?  Do we really think that we know more than He does about what is best?  I suppose we live under this false allusion that we are in control and unlike other cultures and those who live in countries with such poverty and instability in the government, we have pretty good reason to think we are in control.  Most people in the world do no know what they will eat the next day or if they will have a home after the next election.  It is no wonder the Gospel (acknowledging our fallen nature and consequence, recognizing our only hope is through Christ, and dying to ourselves daily while picking up our crosses to follow Him) is so rapidly spreading in places where they seem to have no control in life.  Perhaps it would be good for us to lose our wealth, safety, and security living in America for a while to see that we have been blinded by this destructive road being traversed mostly without Christ.  David certainly was thrown into this sort of period in life being promised that he would be king yet the current king was clearly healthy and didn't have plans of giving up his reign; certainly not to a shepherd boy from the countryside.  Saul sought to kill David on multiple occasions and made it his focus to do away with David.  I am confident David was questioning everything about his calling to be king and whether God knew what He was doing.  God must have smiled and just thought "be patient, in due time when you are ready".  There was more work God needed to do in David's life to prepare him for the calling God made for him.

Well, we saw no one on the river today and arrived at the next campsite a little earlier in the day.  Tomorrow was the big day on the river paddling over 20 miles and through the fiercest rapids.  I was really beginning to doubt whether I made the right decision to go down the river along with the boys.  If only I had someone else to go ahead of me and pick up the boys out of the river if we tipped over.  How long was it anyways, before hypothermia sets in and how cold does the water have to be?  What would happen if we tipped over with each kid going a different direction while I would still have to hang on to the canoe with my one set of car keys in it?

Just before I decided to call off the last day of the trip, I saw another couple come up from the river.  They must have been in their late 60's and their metal canoe was older than they were.  Based on their accents, I am pretty sure their names could have been Sven and Ole and it is likely they had tapioca in there small cooler that they hoisted up the hill from the river.  I was preparing to ask them if they would tag along with us tomorrow and then as I got closer I realized that they might not be the right solution.  This guy was a bit of an exibitionist; the shortest swimming suit shorts you could find and a hula shirt unbuttoned revealing skin that looked more like leather than what I recalled the pasty-northern people to look like.  Maybe I would wait until the morning.

I couldn't sleep all night thinking through all the things that could go wrong tomorrow.  What has come over me?  I never think about such negative things.  Ready fire aim, right?  Well, having the lives of others in your hands seems to have changed this perspective a bit.  I am sure I could have had DFS called on me for plenty of things in my day, but this one would top the cake if I dump that canoe.  I spent most of the night praying that God would give me a solution.  I didn't have answers and wasn't sure how to get out of this predicament I had gotten myself into.

What does it mean to be a man? (Part 3)

Written by Paul Larson

Day One on the Brule River:

We woke up to the all-too-familar, constant hum that brought back memories of the mosquito war that ensued the previous night.  These things are relentless.  Gabriel wanted to know why God created these nasty little creatures.  What a great question.  As we were packing up camp I noticed that the sleeping bags were wet.  Then it all came back to me.  I had a flashback of taking my newly wed wife on our first camping trip in Minnesota with this tent that I won from some work contest.  After spending a night in it and getting completely soaked in 50 degree weather, I realized that my company had not broken the bank to provide us with such high quality gear.  Needless to say, if it rained on our trip, we were doomed given that a little dew was a enough soak our bags.

We packed up camp, drove another hour and finally arrived at the canoeing outpost.    I finally conceded and choked up another $9 plus tax for a bottle of bug spray thinking that I started my first business in elementary school for less.  What a racket!  On the shuttle to the river the owner of the rental company for the last 17 years looked at me, the boys, three large totes of gear and three make-shift, waterproof bags (garbage bags) and said, "Are you sure you know what you are doing".  Normally, I would have said "Of course, I am an expert at this kind of thing."  After our study on David the night before, however, I had reason to doubt my point of view.  I asked, "what makes you say that?" He proceeded to tell me about "Lenroot Ledges" and "Mays Ledges" saying that they "were a real b**ch" and that no one had done three days of paddling totaling 34 miles all year, let alone by himself with two young kids.  It was right about then, that the weight of what I was doing was beginning to land on me.  As he dropped of us off at our launch point the nail on the coffin was him mentioning that "we probably shouldn't tip given that the water was in the low 50's".  I was picturing in my head that this would be a nice leisurely trip down the river with swim breaks and even if we tipped, we could just float down the river.  I guess The Lord will have to keep us in the boat then.

Paddling down the river was amazing.  Largely, we were by ourselves for most of the day passing by towering pine trees.  I was reminded of the ride "Soarin" at Disney with the scene of the white water rafting, but this time I could actually smell the wonderful pine after a surgery in February to drill out the old nose.  What an incredible world we have been given to live in.  We passed by a few houses along the river.  One in particular grabbed my attention as it was on an island.  I immediately began contemplating how we could buy it in our rental business and then sneak away for a week to enjoy the peaceful river flowing by.  Later I found out that it was owned by a guy names Calvin Coolidge (apparently this was one of our Presidents) and he turned it into a "summer White House".  My thoughts of ownership quickly faded away.

We arrived at our campsite which was along the stream.  All the other campsites were at the top of the hill so we were quite isolated from everyone else.  I decided that we would take advantage of the few remaining hours of daylight and continue our story of David.  Tonight we read from the famous story of David and Goliath.  It is so easy for me to look at this story and think that it is about a godly young man who "stood up for God" and mustered up enough courage to take on a man nearly 10 feet tall.  After a closer look at the text, it becomes very evident that there is no explanation why this battle should have ended the way it did.  David approached Saul after hearing Goliath defy the God of Israel in the valley below and requested that Saul allow him to fight Goliath.  David reminded Saul that "whenever a lion or a bear came and carried off a lamb from the flock" he would go after it that God would rescue him from the paw of the lion and bear.  Saul recognized there was no way David would win unless God showed up and thus said "go, and may The Lord be with you."  Being a man necessitates a view that we are weak and God is strong.  It is often said that "Christianity is for the weak-minded".  I am inclined to say "you are right", and "that is why we are in need of a strong God who takes care of us."

As I wrapped up our first evening on the river, I began cooking some brats over the camp fire.  It was awfully quite around here and I remembered that I left my gun in the glove box back at the outpost.  I had no idea that The Lord was removing any sense of "security" from me and He was about to give me a reminder that He was in charge and His hand alone was sufficient for me.

The boys were around the camp fire with me and I heard a loud crack right behind me.  I turned around to see squarely in front of me the largest black bear I have ever seen.  I jumped up and grabbed my 12 inch knife (which now made me feel woefully ill-equipped) and yelled for the boys to get behind me and walk slowly toward the bank.  This beast was between us and the stairs leading up to the campgrounds so our only option was to jump into the river.  As if the drama wasn't high enough already, that darn creature stood on it's back two legs towering a least another two fee above my head as if to say "all you have is that little knife".  Fortunately, God was done with His teaching moment for me and the bear scampered up the hill.  Now I don't know about you, but all I could think about was "stop, drop and roll" and I don't think that was what I was told to do when encountering a monster bear in the woods.

I would like to say the adventures of day one were over at this point, but this shook me up enough that I needed to go on a walk and see what options I had if that Sasquatch decided to come back that night.  Gabriel tried to reassure me that "in Little House on the Prairie, the bear only had Mr. Edwards' hand." I thought to myself 'what kind of morbid things is my wife letting these kids watch' and then replied that I would prefer to keep my hand and the bear in the show was some kids stuffed animal.  We walked up the hill and found only one other camper.  It was an older couple with their grandkids.  I told them they might want to pack up the food out of site.  They smiled and nodded towards the full size RV parked next to them as if to say "we are in good shape" and "sorry sucker for those of you who have to sleep in those tents".  I enviously surveyed his rig and was tempted to ask him how much it would take to sell that thing on the spot.  We walked on down the trail and I noticed a dark shadow off to my right.  I couldn't believe my eyes!  It was another bear looking me straight in my eyes.  These things were like fleas, I thought.  This time the boys yelled and ran toward it (I guess they had more moxie than I did).  That was enough of the "walking it off". We were going to hunker down in our little two man tent and wait this night out.  The kid's dozed off, but I couldn't sleep at all. Around 1 am, I heard howling and realized that these were not beagles.  I was told earlier that the Brule river forest was home to five wolf packs.  After recently watching "The Grey" with Liam Neeson, I wasn't so sure the bear was so bad if it meant those creatures would stay away.  I did remember that I had glass Starbuck's bottles and tape that I could wrap around my knuckles like he did in the movie, but that seemed far-fetched and didn't end well for old Liam.  The Lord's message was clear to me that evening.  "You are mine and I will only allow what is best for you to happen, trust me."  The next morning I must have dosed off as the kids were not in the tent when I awoke.  Moments after opening my eyes I hear a huge crash right behind my tent.  I leapt out with my knife and no pants ready to fight, just to hear my kids laughing at me. They shrieked "it's just a branch dad, why are you so freaked out"?  Glad to see they haven't lost their sense of humor.

What does it mean to be a man? (Part 2)

Written by Paul Larson

First Night in the Woods:

Well, we dropped off the older three kids at camp and after 13 hours of driving north with our tent, one pair of clothes for the river a cooler of food, we arrived at our first camp ground before heading out on the river the following day.  If you asked me where this place was, I would not be able to tell you.  This was one of those situations when the iPhone GPS lost it's signal an hour ago and you are navigating through the back woods of Wisconsin praying you will see another living being.  Even I was willing to stop and ask for directions at this point.  The sun was setting and my eyes were peeled for any sign of a grass patch where I could set up my makeshift tent to rest for the night.  Just then the "check engine immediately" light came on in my nearly ten year old pick up truck.  "Great" I thought, "why did I fight the urge to buy that new Denali I have been looking at to fit the wrong size monster tires purchased on eBay last month?"  Now I am in the middle of no where and there is nothing I am going to be able to do but wait for the next elk to walk by and try to jump on the back of that thing.  This was my first thought of "what happens if this doesn't all work out the way you had hoped".  How was I going to teach my sons to be a man if I couldn't even get to where we needed to be?  Maybe The Lord had something different in mind for us.  Little did I know what was about to come later in the week.

Thankfully, mounting an elk was not in the forecast for us.  I turned the corner and came into the bustling town of "day lake" with a population of 24.  That was a larger number than the teeth that were in the man's mouth at the local gas station which doubled as the bar, post office and town hang out.  I laughed as I thought about moving my family here.  We could nearly double there size with one family not to mention offer another possible means to marry off there children to someone not related.  The gentleman (loose definition) directed informed me that there was a camp ground just a mile up the road.  The check engine light would have to wait.  I was not about to ask if there was a shop in the vicinity of lets say 250 mile radious.  he would have just laughed and revealed those pearly whites (or should I say "white") again.

I should have known there would be a problem when we arrived at the camp site and there was not a soul around.  I opened the door to my truck and was immediately introduced to Wisconsin's state bird, the Mosquito!  It was as if old Harry yelled to his mosquito friends, "Quick, come over here, we have a live one!"  Now I knew why the guys at camp laughed at me when dropping the kids off when they heard my plans to camp out.  His parting words as I walked out the door were "make sure you have some bug spray".  The opportune word was "some" I thought.  At this point, I was convinced I would need at least ten bottles of that 100% deet stuff.  I surveyed the camp site through the swarm of mosquitoes and chuckled at the last time I was in a situation like this.  In college, I went to the Boundary Waters with some guys and suited up in our nets from head to toe to keep those blood-sucking vermin off of you.  There is nothing like a "man trip" to the woods in only a mosquito net (and I mean only).  Our plan was to take our hatchets and knives to man-handle a bear in the evening when it came for our food.  We all camped in surrounding trees in wait.  Thank God, the bears never came, or I would not likely be writing this now.  Well, this time I had my two small sons with me and having a bear visit in the evening was no longer in my "top 10 list".

As I unpacked our supplies and set up camp I realized that I had forgotten the meat in the fridge back home.  "Great", I thought, as Iooked at six bags of beef jerky and eight bottles of Starbucks coffee.  Well, part of being a man was improvising, right?

Given that I clearly do not know what it really means to be a man, I decided that we should open the Bible and read from one of my heroes; King David.  I often think about David as a valiant warrior who was afraid of nothing.  I know that God references him as a man after His own heart, but I was unaware of what that really meant.  We began reading that first night.  We picked up the story in 1 Samuel 16 when David was anointed to be the next king.  Samuel, a rather worthy individual given his many year of being a prophet of The Lord, was asked to select the next king from the home of Jesse.  God did not specify which of Jesse's sons was to be pronounced the king, so the oldest seven were paraded in front of him.  These young men must have been clearly capable based on the fact that Samuel said "Certainly the Lord's anointed one is here before him."  God responded "Man does not see what The Lord sees, for man sees what is visible, but The Lord sees the heart."  This was the first teaching moment from the text.  Being a man meant that it is easy to focus on the things that we see.  Our natural bent is to look at the wrong things as men.  How easy it is to assume that smartest person will excel in school, the most talented team will win the game, or the hardest worker will be the most successful.  God was teaching Samuel that the heart was what He was interested in and David, the youngest and most unlikely of candidates was to be His new king.  So "being a man" starts with an accurate understanding of our position.  We are broken individuals that are in desperate need of seeing things the way God does.  Finally, it was very evident that David did nothing to accept this calling by The Lord. This was 100% God calling David because it says after he was anointed by Samuel, "the Spirit of The Lord took control of David from that day forward."  At this point God was starting to stir my thoughts and expose so many misconceptions I had about what "being a man" was all about...and this was only the first night!

What does it mean to be a man? (Part 1)

Written by Paul Larson

What does it mean to be a man?
Three adventurous days with my sons in the wild.
June 16-19, 2014

Preparation & Planning:

This question has been at the forefront of my mind for some time now.  I am not sure if it was the introduction of dresses and barbies when we adopted our two daughters last year or if it was watching a bunch of pre-teen boys being overly mothered at the playground last week (I think they call that helicopter parenting or something).  Well, the time had come and I wasn't about to let my boys be "sissified" by this culture we live in.  I had a week to kill with my two boys, Jaden and Gabriel, after dropping off three of the older children at camp.  What a great opportunity to head out into the wild, northern woods of Wisconsin and teach them what it means to step up and become men.  After all, they were 7 and 8 years old and it was probably about time they figured this out.  So without even a hint of hair on any part of their body except their heads and no sign of their voices dropping for another decade, we were ready to plan our adventure.

Now when I say "plan" I mean it in the loosest way possible.  To be a man, you had to live on the edge after all.  Too much planning meant "safety" and "control".  We were going after something totally different here.  It was settled then, we would take three days on a canoe trip and rough it in the wild.  There were so many options to choose from.  Just then I recalled a trip I made to the Brule River when I was but a young lad.  As a matter of fact, I think we actually only made it an hour down the river in Kayaks before the trip was cancellled.  One of the adults broke his collar bone and had to be airlifted out.  Perfect!  What better place could a father bring his sons than to a place that had been marred with the past shame of a job unfinished?  As I read some reviews online about the Brule, it kept saying "expert paddlers only" and "kayaks recommended" for these Class III rapids.  I should have been concerned about my river selection at this point.  Instead, my mind wandered on what they meant by "expert".  That is a relative term right?  Who wakes up in the morning one day and says "today I am expert even though yesterday I was merely a neophyte."  What is an "expert" anyways?  I mean, I have seen Merril Streep in "River Wild" at least twice.  That has to count for something!  She had my complete attention as she navigated her raft down the Colorado River with precision.  And I am pretty sure that Pocahontas never had a kayak before when she was paddling furs up and down this thing.  She probably had to do it on a log or something.  To top that off, I did complete five out of eight of my groupon, crossfit training classes over the last 12 months (even though I could barely walk after two of them).  It's settled then, I must be an expert.  After all, being a man was being confident right?

Glorious Mundane

So, I am venturing to write again, not because I have anything profound to say tonight, but because its what I do, and I think somehow it's good for my soul.  When my heart slows down long enough to keep up with my typing fingers, those truths I once remembered, yet have forgotten to cling to lately, sort of find their way back to a place of resting in my soul.  I write to to help myself remember who God is and what He is all about, because I forget so easily.

The days have been hard recently and in some ways very dark.  We are not living in a state of crisis, but extreme weariness of the soul.  I was thinking back on different seasons of life and marveling at how so often even in the midst of crisis or suffering their was a nearness of Christ and desperation that made His supply so sweet.  Sufferings were painful, but in a bittersweet way because the beauty of Christ shone so brilliantly amongst them.  These days we are walking are different.  They are long, difficult, wearying with little variation in the scenery and no clear evidence of change up ahead.  There is an emotional exhaustion in battling for and with the little unregenerate souls given to one's care that cannot be explained.  It can suck the life out of you faster than almost anything else, and unlike a real marathon  gives you no guarantee of an end in sight.  I would gladly cheer for a mile marker sign right now regardless of what it read.  Sure the physical realities of caring for a family of almost ten are no small task, but it's the emotional and spiritual battles that driving us to our knees.

So what it is about these days that makes them so long and hard?  I think part of it is the mystery of the mundane.  Mundane.  It's what most of life is really made of.  There are huge callings.  Marriage, missions, ministry, new jobs, college, children, adoption, fostering, etc.  Yet all of those callings consist of day after day of living in the mundane.  Eating, sleeping, cleaning, shopping,  driving, emailing, learning the next small lesson, studying for the next test, changing the next diaper, wiping the next runny nose, swapping out clothes for the kids because yes they are still growing.  We don't think about all those pieces when we follow God's calling.  We obey because.....well a lot of different reasons I suppose, but I don't think any of them includes, "I just really like the mundane and this calling will have a lot of that."  But they all do!  I don't particularly like the mundane parts of life.  I want to cook a stellar meal and have all my children rave about it....not gonna happen.  I want to my kids surrender their lives to Christ, be radically transformed and begin loving one another out of hearts that have been captured by grace and just ooze it all over each other.  (Not killing each other is a success these days)  I want to impact lives and open our home as a place of rest and comfort and peace.  (Our home is anything but those adjectives).  I want to know God, enjoy His word, let my heart worship freely.  (An uninterrupted quiet time is a victory.)  So, here is the reality.  This is a crazy season and maybe my ideas of ministry, family, worship are really more about some artificial, plastic picture of what we all think we are supposed to be, rather than the gospel.  We know about the crazy awesome miracles of Christ, His suffering, death and resurrection for our redemption, but I wonder about the mundane parts of His life.  He obeyed the Father fully in all things not just the "glorious".  Before His three years of ministry, he lived a full life of full obedience very little of which is recorded for us.  What were those "less noteworthy days filled with?  When Jesus was baptized by John at the beginning of His public ministry God said of Christ, "This is my Son in Whom I am well pleased."  Jesus had not yet healed anyone, forgiven anyone, died for anyone.  He had lived in complete obedience for thirty years filled with untold mundane moments over which God smiled and was fully glorified!  Can the mundane be glorious?  I wonder if I saw it as such, how differently my heart might feel in the wiping of noses, preparing of meals and teaching of spelling.  We didn't choose to homeschool because I like long division.  We didn't choose to have lots of kids because we like to listen to complaining or enjoy cleaning up other people's messes.  We didn't choose to adopt because we like our lives to be messy and unpredictable.  We have sought to follow God because we trust his heart, and love the calling He has put on our lives which at this point includes a lot of long division, complaining, messes and unpredictability along with untold other "mundane" moments.  Lord help see with Your eyes the glorious purposes you have in the mundane.  Let me rest in Christ's full obedience and find joy in the days you have set before me.

Fog, Dark Tunnels, Tears and the Gospel

Have you ever found yourself in that place where the whole world seems lost in a fog?  That is where I have found myself of late.  Things have gotten hard around here lately.  Really hard.  Like the kind of hard where you find tears as your constant companion and the light you thought was at the end of the tunnel seems to have flickered out.  It's that place where there don't seem to be good answers to any of your questions, good solutions to any of your problems or enough of anything to give to anyone needing something from you.  It's that place where you cry out, "God, I'm in the Word, I'm begging for wisdom, I'm confessing sin, I'm acknowledging my need, I'm trying to wait patiently, but I'm drowning here.  Do you see?" 

Of course He sees and He knows and He understands and He is wise and powerful and good in all things.  So what does that say of my fog, and tears and struggle?  Are they ultimately for my joy and my good and God's glory?  Were He to lift me from the midst of the fog to the place of His vantage point wouldn't my soul rejoice in the glory of what He is doing?  Is it possible that the tears and the struggle are just a piece of sharing in the sufferings of Christ which has been granted to His children in wisdom, love, and goodness?  Might it be that the light that seems to have flickered out at the end of my tunnel is simply hidden from my sight by a bend in the tunnel I did not foresee? Could it be that the light which I seek is actually that of the risen Christ blazing in all of His glory as He intercedes on my behalf before God Himself?  Indeed, He intercedes for me as one who is able to sympathize with my weakness and has known struggle and tears.  He himself cried out, "My God why have you forsaken me?"  And that is a darkness I will never know because Christ knew it for me. 

So what do we do, when despair seems to be pounding at the door, self pity is crying in our ears,  and fear is crouching at every corner?  Preach the gospel to ourselves!  Believe what God proclaims is true regardless of how untrue it feels.  Acknowledge our deep need and wait for the Great Need-Meet-er.  So, that is where I find myself tonight.  The fog hasn't lifted, I don't see any light before me and the tears are still very much present, but I am choosing to believe what I cannot see and trust the One who carries me even when I can't feel it.  And if I am quiet the sound of despair is slowing being drowned out by the words of an old hymn...a quiet gift of mercy from the LORD. 

He Giveth  More Grace
He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater,
He sendeth more strength when the labors increase,
To added affliction He addeth His mercy,
To multiplied sorrows, His multiplied peace.

His love has not limit, His grace has no measure,
He power has no boundary known unto men,
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus
He giveth and giveth and giveth again

When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed ere the day is half-done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources,
Our Father's full giving is only begun. 

Driven to depend?

I recently pulled out my running shoes again.  First trimester exhaustion, four bouts of sickness, navigating seven-kid-craziness, and the busyness of the holidays found my shoes at the bottom of the shoe basket.  I'm not really a runner, but I run.  I'm not fast, or particularly motivated by long distances.  I'm sure I don't even have the right gear, but I run.  I've learned that its the place my soul grows quiet, my mind fixes on truth and my heart remembers again how fragile I really am and how infinitely sufficient God really is.  Its a bit of a paradox.  About the time that my legs start to ache, my lungs begin to burn and I wonder again why I'm running in the first place is usually when the armor around my soul begins to crumble, all the defenses fall, and my heart is laid bare before the LORD.  All the fight I had beginning my day desperate to do it all well, takes to the wind like dandelion seeds at the slightest breeze.  And there I find freedom.  The truth sets us free and here is the truth: "I'm not enough.  I don't have what it takes.  I'm pretty broken.  I mess up constantly.  All my attempts to do better and try harder fall laughably short."  And there is a lot of freedom in knowing that, admitting that and reveling through anguished tears in the steadfastness of God's love for me because of the person of Christ.  It's okay.  I can admit my great need because it is not really about me.  Jesus is the Son in whom God is well pleased and I am in Him.  He declared, "It is finished," and my debt was canceled and my righteousness secured through the complete, willing obedience of Christ.  My outcome is secure though the circumstances of my life ebb and flow like the waves of the ocean threatening to drown me.  Yet, in that place of gasping for breath wondering if He actually knows what I can bear, the gospel echos deeply in my soul.  I wasn't promised a quiet home, or mild-mannered children.  He never guaranteed that I would have answers for every difficulty.  I wasn't assured comfort, ease, or a pain-free existence.  God granted me forgiveness and gave me the righteousness of Christ.  He asked me to live by faith trusting what He accomplished and He promised that He would always be enough.  And He is.  That reality alone is enough to cause to tears to flow all the harder.  To be so loved on no merit of my own!! And there in the midst of desperate dependence, raw need, overwhelming grace and love; a deep drive grows, not to do more or try harder next time, but to know Him, to remember my need and to glory in my Redeemer!  Dependence is not a natural state for most of us.  We fight hard against it and avoid it at all costs.  But the truth is we are all needy and dependence is the only thing we can really bring God anyways.  So, I am learning that I have to fight to be dependent.  There is a growing drive in my soul to press deep into dependence on Christ as uncomfortable and painful as it may be.  Dependence on Christ is freedom.  It is peace and rest and joy because it is where we stop striving to be god of our lives and rest in the God who gave us life and Himself that we might be fully satisfied in Him alone.  So, as I enter the New Year and look to the days before me, my resolve and drive are not ultimately to alter the circumstances of my life more to my liking, but to know more deeply and depend more completely on the One who sovereignly, lovingly holds all the circumstances of my life in His hands.