Hey! If you want another chance at winning a copy of my book, breeze on over to Shari’s blog.
While you’re there, have a look around. My sister commented to me once: “Do you read Shari’s blog? She writes every day but she’s never boring!”
It’s true. She’s a brilliant writer, and I’m proud to know the lady behind the blog.
Hurry over there asap.
Good artists, I’m told, know what perspective is. I don’t know much about horizons and lines doing the right things on a page, even though I had my first acrylics painting lesson recently and found it completely exhilarating. But back to perspective: I know that everyone needs it, more than only graphic artists.
Last week one day, spring finally, finally arriving, I happily wore my new shoes that Michelle had talked me into buying. It was liberation to put away the winter boots and wear something light. As I walked down the sidewalk, I noticed a woman scowling at my shoes. My cute, brown shoes didn’t deserve a look like that. In a flash, I decided that she was narrowing her eyes at them because she was jealous, not because she thought they were ugly or unseasonable. Perspective.
The next day a mother interrupted my English lesson by knocking and handing a huge orange to us, her two children and me. A single orange, in the middle of doing a worksheet. I found a knife to peel it, and the children and I ate the segments, dripping and squirting, between questions about spring. I remembered the stories of women who got one orange for Christmas when they were girls in communist Poland. They savored just the fragrance for several days before peeling it.
Perspective. Contrast. Color.
An artist needs an accurate way of seeing things. Not only for a project on a canvas, but for the whole of life.
I’m learning, slowly. That crooked lines and dark colors aren’t the whole picture. That the person next to me sees something differently from me because of where she’s standing, not because her eyes don’t work. That failure and coloring outside the lines is not fatal but a sign of life.
I love celebrations! The times we remember, laugh, reminisce , dream. I love the tactile reminders of what was and is, the closure and the looking ahead. I don’t do well with stiff formalities because they usually make me want to laugh or do something distracting, but something deep inside feels satisfied when a milestone or important event is acknowledged sufficiently.
So I want to celebrate that now it’s five years that my book is out in the big, wide, beautiful world.
I maintain that the best authors don’t write because they have all the answers but because they’re the ones who are brave enough to wrestle with questions that might not have tidy answers. I have experience as a single, but I don’t do it perfectly, so the book isn’t about pat answers. My vision as I wrote was to give ladies a picture of what kind of life God is inviting them to even if theirs doesn’t have the color and shape of their expectations. I saw girls become desperate or depressed when they didn’t get boyfriends by age 26, and it grieved me because I knew that desperation or depression was never what God designed them for.
What IS our design and purpose? That’s what I explore in the book.
I’m still exploring the question. I’ve slid into the same kind of depression/desperation/despair that I’ve seen in others. During the past five years, there were times when my closest friends told me maybe it’s time for me to read my book again. ugh. (I haven’t met any author who wants to go back to read their book. Never.) There were dark, dark nights. Even dark months, when I felt only questions and emptiness and heavy sighs. That was real, but so is the bright sunshine, the wide vistas, the incredible care of the wild, unpredictable, endlessly-loving Almighty.
So I’m still learning. Still reaching forward and messing up and living as falteringly and certainly as one does when she knows where and who Life is.
I’ve loved the interaction with readers, the feedback (mostly positive, thank God), the questions it sparked off, and most of all, the embarking on a journey of wonder and knowing we are never, ever alone. Now I want to celebrate the amazing five years behind us.
I want to do a DOUBLE book giveaway to FIVE people–one for you and one for you to give away. In comments here or by Facebook message or email, tell me why you want need a copy of the book, and who you’d give a copy to. The giveaway is open from April 5-10. I want to give the book to the desperate, depressed girls I wrote it for. Will you help me get it to them? Let’s go!
I think that I already live pretty simply. But the truth is that I live in luxury. I’m not sure what to do about it, but I do know that it means saying NO to things I could do or get. Often–every day and probably many times a day. It also means finding beauty and pleasure in things that are already around me.
Some of the costliest places of sacrifice for me has been living far away from most of my friends and relatives. My friends do amazing things like get married and have babies or suffer funerals and tragedies and I’m a million miles away. The loneliness and distance is something that never lessens even though it’s been like this for 17 years. Another sacrifice has been living in a country where I can’t speak the language well enough to communicate easily. It’s hard, hard, hard for me, the girl whose biggest problem used to be having too many words.
Serving people cuts across the grain of my soul because I think people should spend their days thinking about how they could make my life better. I’m a princess after all. Ugh. When I see how ugly that stance is, it helps me rearrange my focus and CHOOSE to serve.
Simplifying, sacrificing, and serving are all part of the shape of Jesus’ life and what it means to be part of His Kingdom. The beauty of it is that His invitation to join Him is not about making us squirm or feel as miserable as possible. It’s part of selling everything just to buy the pearl that we treasure.
What do you love the most? That’s where your treasure is.
Serve.
In away, serve encapsulates simplify and sacrifice. This is about living with an outward view. Which calls for radically reorganizing the contours of our hearts because we are born looking inwardly and serving ourselves. Which is what the Gospel is all about—getting new hearts and looking at our world in a different way than is natural.
There are so many ways and places to serve that it sometimes feels overwhelming. I could stay in Poland and love people who don’t know Jesus and need Him so desperately. As an English teacher, I could do the same thing anywhere in the world. I hear my cousin’s Liberia stories and I just got done reading Kisses from Katie and I know that if I’d go to Africa (or India) (or Cambodia) and touch those children’s hair and feel their tears on my cheeks, something would break deep inside me and I could never be the same again.
We all applaud serving sick children in far-away places, and pouring out our lives on behalf of poor people in other countries. It all sounds exciting and exotic and news-worthy.
But sometimes the most important thing we can do is serve the person beside us. The brother who’s always asking favors from you. Or the neighbor who irritates you every morning. It’s all very easy to talk about serving someone in the Far East. It feels a little different when you realize you don’t have to step outside your living room to serve.
Last January I had the huge honor of visiting at Sharon Mennonite Bible Institute the same night they were having their term banquet. Instead of asking parents and friends to come pamper them for an evening of finery, they invited neighbors up and down the roads around the school. The students cooked the food and served and played music and sang for and visited with the guests. I happened to be a guest of the administrator’s wife, so I got in on it too. I was eating delicious food in a beautifully decorated gym and the pianist was playing “Shine Jesus Shine” and I wanted to melt into a puddle of tears. Vibrant, gifted young people were working and smiling and serving their world and it was so beautiful and right it made me cry.
Yesterday: Sacrifice
Tomorrow: Self-Check
Sacrifice.
Ouch. I don’t like this word.
And, like simplify, it’s a relative term. But still, what sacrifice colors your life? I’m not saying we should aim to be ascetics, but I am saying that we shouldn’t let discomfort determine our choices.
A friend recently spoke of her Sunday school teacher who was talking gravely about financial sacrifice. “Ladies, I’ve had to go a whole month without buying clothes for myself!” I want to say this as lovingly but as loudly as possible: if not buying clothes for yourself for a month is your idea of sacrifice, you have NO IDEA what sacrifice is.
If we could look into Jesus’ face when He was on the cross, and watch Him for hours like His mother did, we’d have a better idea of sacrifice. The most costly sacrifices have to do with the intangible parts of us that can’t be quantified in money or stuff. Sacrifice could mean choosing to live far away from family members. It could mean prioritizing ministry more than career. It could be sharing time with someone instead of money. It always means doing without something you value for the benefit of another.
When I heard about a young man who bought a swanky car because he said he didn’t know what else to do with his money, my first thought was, “Wow, he has a really small world.” I guess he doesn’t know that the missionaries his church supports have to seriously scrunch to make their grocery money reach every month. I guess he doesn’t know about Comeragh Wilderness Camp that pours itself out for delinquent boys and is strapped for money. And about half a million other ministries that need funds.
Then I thought about my friend who was in college and was crying because she couldn’t give as much to missions as she used to, and I know she’s a lady who knows what sacrifice is and it’s clear what kingdom she’s part of.
Yesterday: Simplify
Tomorrow: Serve
There are 3 emphases that I think are necessary for engaging well in God’s Kingdom. There’s another kingdom out there that vies for our allegiance, and we can tell which one we belong to by the things we love.
The next few posts will be about ways to look at what we treasure.
Simplify. We, the 20% of the world use 80% of the world’s resources. This thuds deep into me and I cringe at our mindlessness and sense of entitlement. Even so, I like my comfort and routine and ease. We all do. It’s human. For example, please don’t think about taking away my morning coffee comfort. Don’t talk to me about 25,000 people starving every day while we Westerners go on diets to look better and fit into our clothes.
It’s possible to live with less stuff. It’s entirely possible to be gloriously happy without the latest home-deco your neighbor has. It’s possible to live well without shopping at Walmart or even thrift stores every week or getting a manicure every month. It’s possible to have a wonderful life with only three sweaters to choose from in your closet. You can feed guests tomato soup and toasted cheese sandwiches and still have a fantastic evening together. We don’t need all the extras we think we do. Amy Carmichael idealized living with as many things that could fit into a hobo’s handkerchief. I think she was on to something and it’s why I hated hauling a 50+ lb. suitcase from pillar to post when I was on furlough.
For a push toward simplifying, I suggest reading Jen Hatmaker’s book called “7, An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess”. It’s her account of when she simplified 7 parts of her life for 7 months as a discipline and way to assess her life. She’s crazy and disorganized and funny, and her book makes you think that if she can do that, you can cut out something in your world too. After my aunt read the book, she decided to not go to the grocery store for one month but eat what they already had in their pantry and freezer. Bravo!
Tomorrow: Sacrifice
… I keep thinking about this thing of praying for marriage & children for myself. I had never thought of doing it before. I have prayed about “if I get married sometime…” but not asking for it. I have a aunt, a lovely lady and never married. Her life has impacted many many people, including mine, in ways she couldn’t have if she had her own family to care for. Do I pray for a husband for her?? God doesn’t plan for all ladies to get married, does He? I am interested in the marriages of my friends! I just wondered about how you said we should pray to get married..?
A girl e-mailed this when she read my last post. I asked her permission to share her question, so now you can look over our shoulders to read part of our correspondence. My answer to her was a little wordier than I intended, but well, that sort of happens sometimes.
–Thanks for writing and bringing up some excellent questions! There are several reasons I suggested praying for marriage for friends and ourselves. I’ll try to explain them here:
Living with an open hand is part of what makes a woman beautiful. She isn’t shaking an angry, clenched fist, nor refusing what God wants to give her. She’s accepting whatever He chooses to put in or take out of her hand. She reflects Jesus in the garden when He came to His father with honesty of what He really wanted, but still surrendered to His higher will. (Notice that His Father never scolded Him for His honesty. He won’t scold us for it either.)
Does God plan for some women to stay single? Maybe. Maybe not. Our lives absorb the consequences for our own decisions and those of others as well as circumstances outside of our control. The best thing is that God is bigger than whatever consequences we live with, and does amazing, wonderful things with wherever we find ourselves.
My understanding is that marriage is our design, but not the ultimate of life. In addition to my observations and experience, these are some of the writers who have influenced me to come to the conclusion that it’s good to ask God for marriage:
Sharon Yoder, author of To Have and To Hold
The bloggers at fast. pray. Their subtitle is: We’re asking God to move and bring about marriage for those who desire it. We’re praying for God embolden men to be leaders: in churches, homes, and relationships. We are also asking that the Holy Spirit would be working in the hearts of women to soften their hearts and transform them into the image of Christ.
I’d be glad for more feedback if you feel like writing!
At our last family holiday, we had 9 children under age 7 playing and shouting and tumbling around us like so many cuddly puppies. We did some extra things, but most of the week was about making food and taking care of children.
Which seemed right to me. And it got me started thinking.
I grew up in a culture where children were at the top of the list of priorities. After your relationship with Jesus and your spouse, your children were the most important things in your life.Everything else came after that. There were Child Training topics and seminars at church.(Does anyone still have them?) Huge effort and funds went into the church school to make it productive and functional for the sake of the children even if they could have been sent to public schools for free.
Last fall, four of us Mennonite Americans were in a Polish language class, and the theme of one lesson was computers and technology. We were to choose one idea from a list of nine and give our opinion in Polish. Should employers block websites from their workers? What’s the best way to learn a language? And so forth. Individually, we each chose the same topic to talk about: “Should children’s internet usage be monitored?” Even our teacher commented that we were all interested in the same topic: children and their safety. It’s who we are and what we care about.
At any gathering of my friends or relations, there is always a good chunk of time given to the children’s latest capers and stories. We laugh and laugh, constantly amazed at their ingenuity and originality. We cheer for every baby born, and keep track of when they start walking and talking. What they do is huge and significant to us. A recent testimony from a mom showed me what she treasures: “God graces me through my children.” And isn’t anyone is better for having a two-year-old in their life?
Moms and dads in my world sacrificed and skimped and served in hidden ways to make happy, educational, safe lives for their children. I sometimes think we were the exception after all the horrible stories I’ve heard of trusts betrayed and hearts missed. It makes me want to scream and throw things and shout out a million questions. But even that response stems from my deep sense of what is right and good and what I grew up with.
My (limited) perspective tells me that valuing children is the right, whole way to live. The first social structure God created was the family, and it seems impossible to improve on that design. It seems to me adopting God’s values in all of life includes loving and cherishing children. Even if it doesn’t come perfectly naturally for some of us.
So we’re part of a pro-family counter-culture where we do our best to live well and according to our design. This leaves women who live with long-term singleness and/or infertility in a kind of no-man’s land. How to live this well is something I’m exploring and asking questions about.
These are some things I think we CAN do to reflect our design and to be more whole. I’d love to see your additions and ideas in the comments! (Or, if you’re shy, by email.)
Jet lag is a bear.
Coming east is much harder for me than going west. My mornings this week looked like this:
Get out of bed. Comb my hair. Go back to bed.
Get out of bed. Wash my face. Go back to bed.
Get out of bed and make coffee.
Wrap myself in my furry red blanket to drink coffee and slowly let the morning seep into my limbs.
There’s this deep, unsettled ball in my stomach that hates getting up at my inner clock’s 3:00 am. And when I walk to school, I wish for good old Irish wellies that keep the water from the toes because the snow is melting into small lakes and my boots aren’t water-proof.
But that’s all I can complain about these days, so that’s precious little hardship.
My two-month sojourn in the US showed me how rich and good and beautiful life is at the same time that it’s yucky and hurtful and imperfect for everyone. I met lots of people. Good people. Relatives and deep friends. They laughed and cried with me, poured love and grace on me, and sent me away feeling rich and refreshed beyond words.
Now I walk Polish streets and hear Polish conversations and teach English to Polish students. It’s another world in many ways except that people are people, and I find love and beauty and whimsy in them.
And maybe tomorrow morning won’t be quite as grim.
Tis a Gift to Receive 