Thoughts By My Mom

Reading your blog reminded me of listening to a radio cast sometime before Christmas when the speaker was encouraging listeners to spend more time focusing on Christ and less time focusing on daily routines such as driving kids to soccer, buying groceries, etc. I began thinking about what he said and strongly disagreed. Christ has put us in a place where we sometimes MUST drive kids to soccer and buy groceries. Why can’t we carry out our daily mundane schedules and glorify Christ through at the same time - through them? I think I understand what the speaker was attempting to say, but he said it in the wrong way. And we know that the right thing done in the wrong way……G. K. Chesterton once said, “The more extraordinary think in the world is an ordinary man and his ordinary wife and their ordinary children.” I would add, “doing ordinary things.” Your daily post was a reminder that our choices can definitely be “all about me”, but others, such as driving kids to soccer practice, are worthy activities that can glorify Christ. Drink that great coffee and may we all continue to be reminded that if we had all the answers and did everything in the right way, he never would have needed to step out of heaven and do what he did for us.

Love, Mom

Daily Grind and Glory

This morning I awoke at my usual hour: 6:15. I dragged myself out of bed, made some strong coffee, showered, stared at the wall (a very important ritual), and made a decision to skip the typical hair routine and let it frizz.

Then I got a call from my boss saying I should come into work late because of the snow.

Hooray! Snow day!

I had an extra hour and a half to do whatever I wanted. I could climb back in bed, make more coffee, make up a dance to an Imogen Heap song, finish that movie I started last week, make some headway in reading my Jane Austen novel, floss, make more coffee, whatever. After the initial enthusiasm subsided, I set to work: folding my laundry, updating my weekly calendar, and catching up on emails. Lame, I know. But sometimes that's life. Sometimes it's full of cheese.

In the midst of all of this, I flipped through my journal from my trip to the Dominican Republic I took in January, searching for an email address. And I came across a mostly blank page -- except for a single question I had scribbled down in a hurry during one of the sessions at the conference. The conference was on topics like women in the church, singleness, and marriage. Reading it again, I realize that it's possibly one of the most compelling questions I have been asked this whole year (which, I might add, is already 2/12 of the way over.... or, simplified, 1/6. Ah, thank you, GRE practice math tests).

The question is, do my daily choices reflect a preoccupation with my own vanity or with God's glory?

Well, I'm pretty aware that I can be vain as a peacock. But my vanity isn't always rooted in self-assurance, and is instead typically deeply founded in my insecurity, which for the most part is due to the fact that I have this illness called sin. The question I would have to ask myself next is, what does it mean to be preoccupied with God's glory? What does it look like in my own life to ascribe glory to God -- in everything? I would suppose that since, naturally, my own dark heart keeps me focused inward, it would take some acute awareness on my part to glorify God. So is it possible to be profoundly aware of my sin and sorrow and yet, at the same time, preoccupied with God's glory?

C.S. Lewis says, "As long as this deliberate refusal to understand things from above, even where such understanding is possible, continues, it is idle to talk of any final victory over materialism."

Is my preoccupation with God's glory dependent on my understanding of things above? I guess it only makes sense. To seek someone's glory means to understand the things they appreciate, enjoy, love. If we are satisfied with having some sketchy ideas about who God is, my guess is that we can't really be preoccupied with God's glory. Not to say that God can't glorify himself even through our foolishness.

I'm foolish as soon as I wake up in the morning. My mind sets to work thinking of all the things I can do to serve myself. How can I make my day work well for me? How can I convince people that I'm pretty great? What mask can I put on today to hide the guilty stains that lurk underneath this clean-cut exterior?

Now, making coffee is great. I think God wants us to enjoy coffee, because it tastes good, and good things come from God. God is good, coffee is good. They go hand in hand, right? While I'm enjoying these temporal things, I can also understand that these things come from God, and it should be my joy to set my hope on the Giver and not the riches themselves.

Thank God that He can bring glory to Himself even in our daily routines. It doesn't have to be through some big event. And thank God that my ability to focus on things eternal is not my final hope. Christ pours his grace out on me daily; this is my final hope.

Great Aunt Tina and Country Music

I think I may be behind the times, because I've stumbled upon many a blog (by way of keyword searches through Google) that have already been exhausted, including one of my own that I started back in '06 when I went to China. This was back when purple was my favorite color -- oh, so long ago, when I was young.

So I guess I've started dancing now that the party is over.

But it's okay -- I've sort of always bloomed a little later than anyone else. My mom still reminds me that I'll appreciate it one day. I'm 22 and I suppose I've begun to listen. Once you hit your 20s, you start paying attention to the conversations at Christmas that have to do with Great Aunt Tina's cataracts. You know that Tina is your mom's dad's sister, and family members have always told you you have her laugh. Once you're in your twenties, you start wondering if you've inherited her cataracts, too. Or -- am I the only one who does this?

But I've decided that while I'm waiting for the arthritis to set in, I'll be enjoying the precious gift of agility. I'll be running the Country Music half-marathon -- 13.1 miles -- on April 26 (two days before I turn 23!). Over the next couple of months, I may have several entries expressing anxiety about how far behind in training I am. Research has shone that I'll get across that finish line in one piece. I experimented last year -- and it actually worked! So far, so good.

Ah, how glorious it will be when Spring is finally here. Sunshine on my face, wind at my back. (Please, oh, please, Spring! You warm my soul, and you are welcome here.)