Speak No Evil

I watched American Idol for the first time the other night. I know, I know...you're wondering what cave I've been living in with Nell.

I'm not a fan of reality T.V. and recently I've made tremendous strides to watch less and less of any television show. We cut back to the most basic cable you can get ($11 a month) and I can honestly say I haven't really missed it. But, my kids and Dan have watched idol this season and love to cheer for their favorites and see what they'll sing, so I decided to check it out.

I'd heard a lot about Simon and while I agree he can be rude and negative, as I watched him rate each performance, I found myself agreeing with him. I also found it very easy to jump right into the judgement role and begin criticizing every detail of the performance I didn't find impressive or inspiring.

As we all sat and watched and did our own play-by-play comments, my oldest daughter became increasingly upset to the point of not wanting to watch the show together anymore. She felt we had become (and me in particular) too harsh in our criticisms, focusing only on what any particular singer did wrong and not giving any credit to their courage for being up there in the first place with relatively great voices.

She was right.

I've always had a critical streak, something I like to say I inherited from the paternal side, but calling something hereditary and moving right along doesn't assume any responsibility. So it was convicting to have my daughter brought to tears by my negativity.

I just finished reading a book by Chip Ingram called "The Miracle of Life Change" (I highly recommend it to everyone) and it talks about how we are transformed from the inside out when we become Christians. His focus comes from Ephesians chapter 4. Verses 22-24 say we are to put off the old self (old habits), get renewed by the Holy Spirit in our minds and then put on the new self (we are made new creations in Christ). A lot like changing clothes.

And then a few verses later (vs. 29) I read "Let no unwholesome word proceed from your mouth, but only a word as is good for edification according to the need of the moment, so that it will give grace to those who hear."

Sometimes I think my daughter is an angel in the room - God's gentle reminder that it's better to give grace than assume the role of judge.

Inventory

Do you know how at certain times it seems everywhere you look you're getting the same message, but it seems random?

Like, it's Spring (or so the calendar would have us believe - it's 40 degrees and raining), and so the days are longer and I have a little more energy in the evening to do some Spring Cleaning. I haven't gotten into the whole "clear out the house" weekend yet, but I feel it coming on.

Then there's this website I recently discovered www.freecycle.com where people offer up stuff actually worth something for free or ask for stuff they want that someone else might be willing to get rid of for free. A huge trading network - very no-nonsense - "this is what I want/have, here's when it can be picked up, etc." Once you get past the crowded inbox, it's great. We've gotten a free ceiling fan and given several toys, stationary, hangars, etc. away. It reminds me of the WWII era of "we're all in this together" and beats the heck out of storing it all for a dreaded weekend long garage sale that will yield $200 on a good day.

Then I'm reading this book (well seven actually, but this particular book is) about making room for life. In fact, that's the title "Making Room for Life". Someone gave it to me today and I read the first five chapters on my lunch hour (quick read). The author, a pastor, was talking about being in Israel and seeing the Bedoin families in their tents in the desert and feeling sorry for them until he learned they are the least stressed, happiest, longest-living people in the country. And guess what? They don't own anything they couldn't pick up and carry at the end of the day.

I got seven e-mails in the past two days looking for donations. All worthy causes, from cancer research, to clean water in Africa to a local family whose house burned down.

I'm thinking the message is we have so much stuff! I look around and I can't possibly maintain all the things in this home. And I regularly give a bunch of it away. Which makes me think I'm still accumulating more than I think I am.

Now some of this is part of the territory of being a mom with three kids. Even in this wonderful age of technology a lot of paper comes home from school. The mail is ridiculous. We fill a ginormous recycling bin EVERY WEEK with paper and plastic. And I know, my sentimentality is partly to blame, but I'm parting with more and more all the time. I now understand the minimalist approach my mom has that I used to make fun of.

I open my fridge and freezer (and fridge/freezer in the garage) and I have more choices than 2/3 of the worlds' population. But I still run to the store four times a week because I'm "out of everything"!

How did I grow to value so much stuff as necessary?

I remember before Caitlin was born, I was thrown (count 'em) five separate baby showers. Through the generosity of others, her room was wall-to-wall Classic Winnie the Pooh. I'll never forget the first time my mother walked into that nursery stunned and shaking her head. She said "when you were born, there was a crib and a picture of Bambi on the wall". I don't think my sister even had the crib - she probably slept in a drawer like all the other baby boomers.

I read a book awhile ago called "The Treasure Principle" by Randy Alcorn. It talks a lot about how you can tell what you value most by looking at your checkbook and calendar. Then it offers a biblical perspective on storing up the kind of treasure that doesn't perish (see the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 6:19-20).

I find that the inventory in my house is saying a lot about the stuff in my heart.

Next Time Count Off

Spring is here. Sort of. It's snowing outside right now and perhaps all of 33 degrees (that's Fahrenheit for you Aussie readers) and they're calling for 4-7 inches accumulating before all is said and done. Guess I shouldn't have put the boots away just yet. Last year we got slammed with a huge snow storm on Good Friday and I remember building snow bunnies in the front yard for Easter. We're really not safely into Spring weather until late April early May and by the end of May we seem to be full fledged summer. But Spring it is and that means.....baseball!

The Cubs' played an exhibition game against the Yankees in their new stadium and lost huge, but I still like our chances this year. Of course, like any deluded Cub's fan, I like our chances every year. The season opener is tomorrow (not to be confused with their home opener on Tuesday) against the Astros which is the team Ryan got placed on in little league this year.

He's had two practices (one indoors after a rain delay and more non-Spring like weather) and one outside on a balmy 45 degree day. He's grouped with 3rd and 4th graders so he has the advantage of being slightly larger and more experienced than half his team. It's still astonishing to me the size range you see of these kids who are never more than a year apart. The smallest is maybe 50 pounds soaking wet and the largest could probably take out most high school tackles. They stand next to each other and I try not to laugh.

The coaches seem like they'll be great. Not too competitive, but intent on teaching them the basics, not too nurturing, but willing to encourage and guide, and not at all the kind who show up leaving you wondering how on earth they got the job because they obviously know nothing about the game. So I was really pleased watching this practice....right up until the point when they decided to pick teams.

They appointed two captains (ironically the two largest kids) and had them each select a team from the boys they had just met. You know how the dreaded drill goes -the kids shuffle back and forth praying to God they're not the last one picked. And their parents sit in the stands and pray the same thing. Ryan was picked second to last. Would someone please explain to me the upside of this approach?

For those of us who've been subjected to the humiliating experience of being the last one picked (sometimes repeatedly) we can attest to the fact that it doesn't do much to build confidence or camaraderie among teammates. So I'm wondering what goes through a grown man's head when he defaults to this option. Because I'm talking about a practice for kids on the same team, the majority of which haven't hit double digits age wise! Why, oh why, do we line them up and beat them down??

I told Dan when I got home and he was disgusted. Aren't I blessed that he's my husband?

Emphasis on "Break"

Do you know how you're typing a word and all of a sudden it just doesn't look right? I wrote Spring Break down on the calendar and the word "break" seemed odd. I was sure for a minute something was wrong with it. Surely, I had misspelled it. It just looked....off.

Was it the context? If you just say the word "break" - what's the first thing you think of? I think of a broken bone. Then I think of "break it off." Like bread. Or a relationship. About the fourth or fifth thing I think of is break as in "take a break", rest a little. Just. Stop.

I think all this says a lot about the pace in which I live life. I used to be the most relaxed person I know. I'm not nearly the most stressed at the moment, but I've had a pain in my back and shoulders for about 3 weeks now that some friends who know a thing or two about pysical therapy say is stress.

There are just two days left of Spring Break and I was feeling a little bad that we didn't do more "fun" stuff with the kids - I had two days off and Dan took off one and besides three trips to the library and a bowling outing, we didn't really "do" much. But the kids didn't care. In fact they were delighted to lounge around in their pajamas till noon, hang out with the neighbor kids on the nicer days and read and play games in the house. They were delighted not to have homework, not to have anywhere to go at night, and not to get up early and be somewhere the next day. I am seeing their point.

I spent several hours today reading. A fiction book. In the middle of the day.

I was feeling a little guilty I wasn't getting anything done (although I had started some laundry, made breakfast and did the dishes). My husband told me to stop feeling guilty and read the book. So I did.

It was a wonderful break.

Brightside

My daughter Caitlin was a little exasperated the other day. She had just about had enough of unemployment rates, outrageous AIG executive bonuses post-bail-out, reports of the Dow Jones plummeting and 24/7 political spin. And she's twelve.

We don't obsess about the economy in this house, in fact we rarely discuss it, but log onto yahoo's home page and bam there it is. Flip through any network news channel (we have very limited cable) or radio station (there's a lot of flipping through the stations in my car these days) or newspaper and you are assaulted with bad news.

She wants to know what the bright side of things are and why more people don't talk about them more often. She kids about the song Mr. Brightside by the Killers which is on my ipod. I admit I really like the song a lot, although the lyrics are not something I wanted my 12 year old to memorize or worse, understand. And I tell her as fun as that song is, it's not the bright side we're looking for.

Today I was helping run some tours of a building our church may purchase as a second location. Just to be clear, that's not "in place of", but rather "in addition to" our current location. I'll tell you one of the upsides of a recession is how many people are suddenly interested in church. But even before the recession we were outgrowing our building. And we don't want to leave it, we want to make room for more at the existing place and transplant some of the current congregation that travels from 90 different zip codes to another location that also has room for a bunch of new folks. This is an ambitious adventure in the midst of all the bad economic news.

So there's some skeptism about the timing, but also an acknowledgement that the timing makes a very attractive building available at almost half of it's pricetag 2 years ago. That's a very big bright side. And after touring this building the people walk away beaming. I mean it - there's a glow and an energy and a buzz in their conversations as they catch the vision of what God can do to spread some very good news.

So as Easter approaches we are spending some more time talking about the "Good News". Capital "G". Capital "N". Because when the world seems to be falling apart, there is tremendous comfort and peace knowing there really is a hope that doesn't disappoint (see Romans 5:1-8).

And the bright side gets brighter when more people talk about it more often.

Ruptured

You know how you have a little health scare and you start to reflect a little more? Dan entered the emergency room late Monday night and has yet to come home. They performed an emergency appendectomy around 4:00 in the morning.

There were dozens of people in the ER that night and as bad as Dan was, most of them seemed a lot worse off. It struck me how many of them were alone. I was grateful that my Dad came right away to spend the night with our kids so I could be with Dan. I'm a little overwhelmed by the outpouring of prayer and offers of help. I don't know why it's easier to give help than receive it, but it is. I think it's my pride. And it still surprises me, because I like getting help - and I never thought I was one of those people who would have a hard time asking for it or receiving it.

Then again, I never thought a lot of things about myself that seem to be true the more I look inside. I don't think of myself as overextended. I figure, our kids aren't in sports so we're way ahead of the time commitment game. I listen to so many other people rattle off their schedules and I'm tired just listening to them. Then someone says that to me and I wonder what they're thinking.

Therapists will tell patients when they're recovering from something (anything really - an addiction, a behavior, an illness, etc.) that if they want an accurate assessment of their progress to ask someone close to them how they're doing. Because as much as we think we have some objectivity, we always seem to think we're managing better than we are. In church we call them accountability partners.

So now I pay a little more attention when someone says they're concerned about me (that's the word to use to avoid a defensive reaction by the way). I wonder why. I consider maybe they have a point. And then things start to unravel.

So often, we walk around with subtle symptoms that we are either oblivious to, or are resolved to ignore. But for all the times we dismiss them as not being serious or attempt to wish or pray them away, seldom do they go.

Because symptoms aren't the problem. There's always a root cause. We like to treat the symptom. It's less messy. Make the symptom go away and we're back to business. But that never really cures the problem. You have to go deep to diagnose.

So while Dan was getting ultrasounds and X-Rays and CT Scans they discovered his appendix had ruptured. To clarify it didn't burst (literally like an explosion) but it was leaking everywhere. And the only solution was immediate surgery to remove the whole thing.

I lost a lot of sleep in the past couple of days and in my efforts to reassure the kids, catch up at work, maintain some semblance of order in my house, encourage my husband and plan for the next steps I underwent a Holy Spirit induced cat scan. Like Dan's it wasn't scheduled and I wasn't prepared for it. But I found myself on my knees, crying and feeling pretty sinful because my biggest worry was that we wouldn't be able to go on the getaway weekend we had planned and looked so forward to.

I spend so much time telling people God always has their best in mind and trust in His goodness and sovereignty even when you don't understand, but I was pretty upset that His best for me didn't include the weekend I so desperately wanted. So something ruptured. And man, did it leak. I was leaking all morning. It hurt. And it hit me that the only thing that was going to take the pain away was to allow God to surgically remove my sin. So I told Him the weekend was His (which it was anyway, but I figured I'd surrender to that) and asked Him to help me trust Him with it and thanked Him for His protection of Dan and all the evidence of His grace and mercy I had just experienced from living 2 minutes away from a fantastic hospital to having dozens of people praying for us both fervently.

I am in awe of this God.

Driving Me Crazy

I like to drive. And if I'm honest, I like to drive pretty fast. It's become increasingly difficult to drive at the speed I prefer as my kids have become more and more aware of limits, laws and less than convincing justifications from me.

Around here everyone drives 70 in a 55 if you're on a highway. At least in the two left lanes they do. It's to the point, where no one even thinks about it anymore. Well no one in the front seat.

Frustration #1 - I can no longer rationalize driving 15 over the speed limit to my son. The whole "but everyone else is doing it" is what the kids say to the parents, not the other way around.

Frustration #2 - One of those kids isn't in the back seat anymore. Which means she can reach the radio. I never thought much about the day I would have to fight to keep my station on. Or any station on for more than 2 minutes before the seek button was hit yet again.

The upside is she's looking for band names she knows and since we got a new van around Thanksgiving we have that cool digital read out feature that tells you the song and band name for all stations that stream it. A lot of the bands she likes are bands I like (thanks to my ipod and Guitar Hero on her DS) - but there's still a lot of disagreement as to whether there might not be a better song on another station...

Frustration #3 - I can't spend any time negotiating with my kids in the car, because I have to pay more and more attention to all the other vehicles drifting into my lane as they incessantly dial their cell phones while driving 70 in a 55. I actually have to swerve to avoid a car hitting me in MY lane an average of 3-4 times a week. There are another dozen occasions when I don't actually have to swerve - breaking is sufficient.

You know U2's song "All I Want Is You?" I've always loved that line "You say you'll give me a highway with no one on it" - always thought of that as heavenly. Better than the treasures and riches in the lines that follow. They have a new album out on Tuesday. Dare I try to listen to it in the car?