MAY-BE

Okay, MAYBE it's just the life stage but MAY is beginning to BE one of the most stressful months of the year. Open my calendar to MAY and it's comical. There are...

- Eight Baseball Games (for one kid)
- Three Band concerts (for one kid)
- One 8th Grade Dance (for two kids)
- One Gifted Expo (for one kid)
- One 8th Grade Graduation (for two kids, on same night as Gifted Expo for other kid)
- Two Youth Groups (all three kids)
- Two Prayer Events at church (Thank God, cuz they are likely what's going to get us through the rest of the list)
- A Silent Auction (blew it off - not very sorry about it either)
- Legacy Night (all three kids)
- Three Birthdays for extended family
- One Family anniversary
- Mother's Day (felt kinda short to me)
- An Ortho appointment (one kid)
- Another doctor's appointment (me-sigh)
- The annual church business meeting (on same day as one of the band concerts)

Oh and two full-time jobs.

My Star Wars crazed children said "MAY the fourth BE with you" to me on MAY 4th.
Get it?

"MAYBE I'm Amazed" is my favorite Paul McCartney song.

The Traditional Gaelic Blessing has four MAY's...

MAY the road rise up to meet you.
MAY the wind be always at your back.
MAY the sun shine warm upon your face;
the rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again,
MAY God hold you in the palm of His hand.

My favorite camp director is Chip MAY at www.camp-arcadia.com

The Word "MAY" appears 1231 times in the Bible. I'm going with Psalm 19:14 for my MAY post closing...

"May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer."

Especially this MAY.

Mom's Day

Mother's Day is kind of funny. Not ha ha funny, but an odd little effort to honor a role that roughly 80% of women over 40 hold. It's good there's a day dedicated to mother's, I guess, but I'm not sure how special it is when you consider there's also a Groundhog day, a Bosses day, an Arbor day, an Administrative Professionals day, a Flag day and so on. We honor lots of things. Or at the very least we mass market merchandise to them.

What's weird about the day is it alters your expectations - it's like the get out of jail free card in monopoly. You tell yourself I can pretty much do anything I want today, it's my day. I don't have to cook, clean, make decisions (unless I want to), run errands or deal with disgruntled children today. Which basically boils down to, I don't have to be a mom today. Because mom's do all that stuff.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying dads, kids, brothers, sisters, singles, aunts, uncles and grandparents don't do all that stuff too, I'm just saying it's definitely part of the mom repertoire of duties. So it's odd that there is a day set aside to honor mom and the way in which it's often done is to essentially take her out of the role for the better part of 24 hours. The thing is, it's hard to not do all the mom things for a whole day. Especially when the kids temporarily forget it's your day off and continue to act like you're their mom. And if our expectations are that there won't be any of the stressful mom duties and then those ugly duties call, we end up disappointed that someone swiped our get out of jail free card while we weren't looking.

Because there are dance recitals and travel baseball games planned on mother's day. There are kids who are tired and sick and cranky on mother's day. There are overpriced brunches and clogged toilets and dog vomit (actually experienced that last one today and we don't even have a dog, but we were sitting for another mom).

It shouldn't be about flowers and candy (though by God's grace and my brother and husband's thoughtfulness I got both) and trying to shirk all responsibility for a day. It should be the celebration of one of God's wonderful methods for caring for His people.

So there were ups and downs today and for a short while I was resenting the downs, but at the end of the day, I am reminded what a blessing and privilege it is to be given children to raise, nurture, guide, discipline, teach, comfort, rebuke, encourage, feed, clean and love.

And to bask in the home made cards. I hope I still get that kind when they move out.

Boston Bombing, Kermit Gosnell and Corrie ten Boom

So I'm not one to write much about current events let alone read all the posts, blogs and tweets that set the internet abuzz when an event as tragic as the Boston Marathon bombing happens or the lesser known murder trial of Dr. Gosnell. The latter is under the radar because the mainstream news isn't reporting it much but there are folks getting the word out about the late term abortion doctor that is on trial for murdering seven babies immediately after birth. These are complicated, messy stories that beg questions about how a good God tolerates such horrific evil. So I usually leave the analysis to more mature and wiser men and women of faith and find I'm often truly blessed when I read a God honoring post on their blog sites.

That was the case this week, which began with a post about Boston by Tony Reinke (you can read his whole post here http://www.desiringgod.org/blog/posts/when-the-bombs-exploded-in-boston) and ended with one by Marshall Segal on both Boston and Gosnell. I also found some insight on Randy Alcorn's blog on the interesting effect pro-choice policy has on an act that would otherwise be equated to the Holocaust.

But none of these stories are readily available when my teenage kids come home from school and want to know why limbs are flying past people's faces after they ran 26 miles. Or why an eight year old boy watching dies. They come to me looking for answers because they trust me. I don't have all the answers, but there's Someone I trust too and that's Who I go to when evil runs amok.

First I talked to the kids about the shock of it all, because it's shocking. More so to Americans who don't see this kind of thing very often. I saw a Facebook post of a group of people in Syria holding up a sign that said something along the lines of "Our condolences...bombs go off here every day."

We're shocked at the evil in a person's heart that would cause them to kill what we would deem innocent bystanders. But the Bible speaks of evil in men's hearts from beginning to end. Genesis 6:5 says "The Lord saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intention of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually." Ecclesiastes 9:3 says "the hearts of the children of men are full of evil." Evil hearts are a theme throughout the entire book of Jeremiah and the Gospels of Matthew and Mark both say evil thoughts come out of our hearts (Matt. 15:19 and Mark 7:21). So in a house where the Bible is continually read (and ours is one) we shouldn't be surprised when men do evil things. That's the problem with mankind. We're sinners. That's why God sent His Son to earth to live a perfect life and die a death we deserved. There is evil in the world and in us and it must be punished. God hates evil. But He loves us. So if the evil is in us, what can He do?

What He did was execute a plan He had from the start to both punish the evil and deliver us from it. He transferred the evil to His Son, who willingly took it all on our behalf so that by faith we can live free from sin and it's power. That's what happened on the cross.

But even those free from sin's power are still subject to it's influence. Evil is in the world (God cursed the ground when Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit) and we should expect to see it. So that's where I started with the kids. We shouldn't be surprised by the evil.

But that's not a very comforting place to leave my kids. So next we went to prayer. We prayed for the victims, their families, the law enforcement and medical personnel, and the rescue workers. But there was still someone else to pray for and none of us were eager to do it.

The bombers.

How do you pray for bombers? How do you pray for a doctor that openly admits aborting hundreds of babies in the first, second and third trimesters and then even after birth with no apparent regret?

That's what brought me to Corrie ten Boom. If you've never read "The Hiding Place" I recommend you go to your local library check it out and read through every page. It's the true life story of Corrie ten Boom and her sister Betsie who were in concentration camps during the Holocaust. It's a gut-wrenching story but an uplifting one and there's a passage in it that God brings to my mind again and again when I go into vengeance mode. Corrie and her sister are trying to read pages from the Bible that had previously been used as toilet paper without getting caught by one of the meanest female guards at the camp and Corrie's heart (like mine) is wishing God's wrath be poured out on the hateful woman. But Betsie imagines with great joy that maybe one day God in His mercy will allow her to share the Gospel with that guard who has abused, mocked and imprisoned her. She imagines it with great joy.

So here's what I discovered as I contemplated the Boston Bomber, Dr. Kermit Gosnell and Nazi Germany. I think somehow their sins are more offensive to God than mine. And that's why I don't want to pray for them.

When I realize that I'm a sinner and that compared to God I look like Hitler, I get how gracious it was of Him to save me. I get that I was rescued from my own evil heart. And if I really understand the Gospel, I get that I didn't deserve it. I didn't do anything so wonderful that it canceled out all the gross and offensive stuff. And it makes me want to give God glory. I mean truly sing His praises (even if it is off-key) because of all He's done for me.

Imagine if a killer gets that. That he/she is saved by grace at no cost whatsoever and that there will be no punishment from God for those sins. How much more would they want to glorify God?

When a prostitute came to Jesus and the religious leaders balked Jesus rebuked them and said she loved much because she'd been forgiven much, but those who are forgiven little love little (Luke 7:47). How much more would God be praised by men and women forgiven of heinous crimes?

That's how I can pray for killers.

In His Grip

Whenever a month goes by without my posting anything I feel this ridiculous responsibility to post something more meaningful. As if my six followers of kind family members care. But the truth is much of what I write is more a reminder to myself of something God revealed to me in a given situation so I can refer back to it at some point in time. When I reflect on paper (or in this case on screen) I'm starting to find the exercise more fruitful than the impact. Which is a roundabout way of saying the discipline of writing is becoming more important to me than what I share. So I've actually written more frequently in recent weeks, but also more privately.

All that to say, if what follows disappoints, my apologies. I'm taking a stab at relevancy worth sharing here.

March and the beginning of April have proved challenging so far. Work is busier than ever though my hours are back to normal (30 instead of the 40 I worked in February). We took a week off for the kid's Spring Break and did manage some fun "stay-cation" things like a trip to the Field Museum downtown, a date night for Dan and me and several sleep overs both hosted and imposed. We also did quite a bit of Spring Cleaning and began a big project replacing a bathroom floor (which I must confess is still in progress). Added to that were two more wakes/funerals and a crushing sense of how quickly this life passes. We're planning driving lessons for our oldest and 8th grade graduation for our babies.

Sometimes it feels like I'm on one of those waterslides that picks up speed around every bend.

As I've gotten older I've become more of a planner, though I am no rival for either of my sisters, it's quite an improvement for the youngest born. So while in my youth I was willing enough to fly by the seat of my pants, in my more mature years (I know it's debatable) I crave security and assurance.

And what I'm realizing is the security I crave I do not have, but the assurance I need is guaranteed.

The security I crave is the comfort of knowing what lies ahead, which is sort of stupid because if I always saw what was coming I don't think I'd find it all that comforting. Instead of trying to figure out what my circumstances are going to be, I'd be better served to remember Who is with me in the midst of them. I've often heard and repeated myself that Peace isn't the absence of conflict, it's the absence of anxiety in the midst of the conflict.

We talk about this a lot at work, which is par for the course when you work in a church. We often catch ourselves being surprised that things didn't turn out like we'd planned or that people reacted differently than we expected when in fact we should be astonished when anything goes according to "our" design. What's that saying? Man makes plans and God laughs. See also Proverbs 16:9.

So it's good to remember that on the slippery waterslide, with its ever increasing speed I have the firm grip of assurance that I won't drown at the end. God is good to remind me that I have this assurance in the grip of His grace and it does not diminish in my circumstances, however harrowing they appear. In fact, it's in the middle of the crisis that I most experience just how strong His grip is.

This was illustrated for me some years back just before Dan retired from the National Guard. Through the efforts of some wonderful veterans I had the privilege of participating in a spousal helicopter ride above Chicago's beautiful lakefront skyline on a perfect September day. We took off out of Midway airport where Dan's army unit drilled. At the time Dan was the company commander and I wanted to represent him well so I made the bold move of taking the outermost seat on the aircraft next to the door that doesn't actually close. And in line with the aforementioned fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants tendency I was wearing flip flops, a sweater and had left my naturally curly hair down for the day.

The crew was wonderfully patient and assisted us with our five-point harness seatbelt and before I knew it we were ready for takeoff. I'm not one to panic in general, I'm not afraid to fly and though I'd never been on a helicopter before if you'd taken my blood pressure six seconds before flight it wouldn't have been higher than 120/80. Six seconds after takeoff would have been a different story.

We went straight up 2000 feet in a shot and that's when the reality hit that I was sitting in the window seat and the window was not only floor to ceiling, but it was open.

And then we turned.

Do you know what happens when a helicopter turns? It tilts sideways so that the people to either the far left or far right are at a significant angle to the ground. Being the person to the far right it was at this point in time that I said (though no one could hear above the blades) "My God, what have I done?"

There was nothing separating me from the open air fall and the only thing keeping me in my seat was that five-point harness belt. And let me tell you...it worked. I did not budge an inch. I did not slide a centimeter. I was no closer to the threshold of the open door than I was when we were parallel to the ground. I was most assuredly not going anywhere. And once I knew that - freedom reigned.

I was so confident in my secure status that I stuck my knee out the door over Lake Michigan to tease my mother-in-law with the photo op (that's what you see above - the tiny speck of white at the very top is actually a huge sail boat). I will never forget that day or that ride. But I find myself pleasantly surprised how God has brought it to mind again with a new means of blessing me -

"My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father's hand" John 10:29

Moving On

In the past five plus years that I've been on staff at our church we made the decision to become multi-site (one church in many locations), opened two additional campuses and birthed a Network to help plant and revitalize many more churches. Over time our staff has been gradually restructured into central and campus specific teams but the majority of those on "central" staff worked and served in the original campus. Until last week.

On Wednesday all employees working at the Arlington Heights Campus ate lunch together and expressed appreciation for each other. On Thursday sixteen members of the central staff packed up all their files, computers and books and on Friday we unpacked them in our new space on the second floor of an attached office building to our Barrington Campus. It was an emotional week. And not just for the ladies.

Some of the folks who moved offices had been in that original building more than ten years. Others were much newer but had managed to accumulate a good deal of supplies, paperwork and equipment in that short amount of time. A fair bit of purging had to take place before the move could be made.

Those of you who have ever moved (whether an office or a home) know that it's wiser to get rid of stuff you don't need or use anymore than to pack it, move it and continue to store it in a new place. But that doesn't mean it's easy. It takes a good deal of time and effort to discern what is necessary and beneficial for the future and what ought to be passed on to others or eliminated entirely. You can't make those decisions without looking at everything you've held onto in some detail.

What to keep? What to leave?

One of the perks of working in a church is how activities like this are approached. We always pray first. We also benefitted from the practical wisdom of our office management that had the insight to plan an annual cleaning day - many items that were no longer useful were discarded long before the move. But I think I'm most grateful for the leadership of a few pastors and one women's ministry director that have often reminded me to hold things loosely in this world because it's all temporary.

That's pretty counter-cultural in a society that values possessions with increasing passion. My kids generation has accumulated far more than twice as much as that of my parents. I remember when my mother surveyed my (third) baby-shower collection of gifts - it was a classic Winnie-the-Pooh theme. There were bookends (filled with books), photo frames, bedding sets, bumper pads, a quilt rack, dozens of outfits, knick-knacks, and a mobile among other items. She sighed and said, "When we brought you home there was a crib and a picture of Bambi on the wall."

I can relate to people who fear they'll get rid of something and then discover later they really needed it. After all, I was a Bank Compliance Officer for a decade. And though technology allows us to keep digital copies of literally everything now, we're still skeptical when we can't pull out a drawer and touch it with our hands. When we find we really need that special something, will it be there?

This is where faith comes in. Do I trust the God that tells me "My grace is sufficient for you" (2 Corinthians 12:9) that He really is all I need? Am I willing to let Him purge what He surely knows is not good for me and let Him replace it with what is better? Especially when I can't envision the better thing?

Late Friday afternoon I stood in a circle with the central staff team and thanked God for giving us the amazing building we stood in and for bringing the wildly talented, highly overqualified and supremely dedicated individuals in that circle to our staff. Then I moved to a newly painted, carpeted and furnished office of my very own and experienced what I call an Ephesians 3:20 moment.

"Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen"

Turnabout

So my oldest daughter has now attended her first dance. With a boy.

I have so many things to be grateful for in this experience, not the least of which is I survived it. I know, I know. It wasn't about me. But it did have a particular effect on my life. I am the mother of a teenage girl who up to this point in time has refrained from most of the social activities her peers have engaged in. And I got sort of used to it. It was nice, not having to navigate these waters. It was comfortable for awhile.

Not that it's all discomfort and white-capped waves now. They went as friends, the dress was modest, they opted for pizza in (instead of a fancy dinner out) and ended the night playing video games rather than - well, rather than so many other less desirable options. It was the best possible scenario for a parent who has realized she's not quite ready for this stage of life. Especially since when I was in the stage my motives were less pure, my decisions less wise and my dresses hideous. Blame the 80's. Fashion. Disaster.

It's both encouraging and humbling to see that my less experienced daughter is actually making more mature decisions. I credit a better foundation of faith for that. Actually, I credit God for that.

And she was a really good sport about all the photos I took.

Full Time

My last post indicated there was a lot going on at both home and work. Another week has passed and I'm almost embarrassed to admit this week has been busier. At the end of the first day of the work week, I surveyed the amount of work assigned and the amount of work completed at my job and mentioned to my boss it might be a good idea for me to work "full time" for the month of February. I think he may have been waiting for me to suggest it because it was approved and implemented immediately. This was the first week since before my 13 year old twins were born that I didn't have a weekday off. And my daughter Maggie was sick. Again. She missed two days of school with another bad cold. One or two of you might be making a judgment about my priorities for not being home with her. You might be right.

My niece is back in America (by way of Australia) and has been visiting Chicago since Thursday. My brother's birthday is tomorrow and we had a nice celebration together yesterday. There was a basketball game, a wrestling meet, a prayer event at church, a Science Olympiad Invitational (Caitlin took third place in one of her events) and a long overdue hair cut. That was the latter 1/2 of the week.

I did the grocery shopping on a Saturday for the first time in years. It was not pleasant. Though the 2 year old boy in the cart in front of me did make the long lines at Walmart a little more bearable as he showed off his matchbox car and played a little hide and seek behind his bag of cookies.

I did laundry and errands on Sunday after church. I know this is how a good chunk of America lives, but I'm still waiting to see how I'll survive it. My husband has been great - giving kids rides, helping with the dishes, dusting, and vacuuming. I suppose I'm waiting to see how he survives it too. The funny thing is what a difference ten hours a week makes.

The really funny thing is that we call 40 hours "full time." What's so full about 40 hours in a week made up of 168? It's a little less than 1/4 of the time. Which means I'm spending 3/4's of my time not at work. I know. I'm babbling. Here's the point.

I am so unavoidably limited in my fullness.

I struggle because the word "full" somehow implies complete to me. It has the connotation of getting something done. Finished. Like filling a coffee cup all the way up to the brim. I just put in a 40 hour work week and let me tell you, I'm not done. I didn't finish my tasks. There are empty cups all over my desk (both literally and figuratively).

So it was a relief this morning in church to hear the sermon about the last Beatitude, "Blessed are the Peacemakers for they shall be called sons of God." The pastor reminded us that there's a progression to the Beatitudes and the one before peace is purity. Purity is a little broader than we tend to think it is and yet a little narrower too. Purity extends to all aspects of my thought life, speech and actions, but it basically boils down to just one aim: holiness. As my man Shakespeare would say "therein lies the rub."

My whole life is a journey toward holiness - the problem is I'm never going to arrive this side of heaven. There are limits to what I will achieve on earth and how quickly it is done. I could use that as an excuse not to pursue holiness at all, but I'd be directly disobeying God if I did. He has called me to be a peacemaker. Not 30 hours a week or 40 hours a week, but 168 hours a week I am to bring the peace He has so generously given me in His Son to every person I meet, every building I enter, every situation I'm in.

That's what I call a full time job.