The Real Housewives of Midland, TX

Sometimes you have to stop reading and writing and posting about community and get down in the middle of it.  Sometimes it’s girls’ weekends and drinks by the pool but sometimes it is something very, very different.  Sometimes “loving your tribe hard” can break your heart.  Sometimes living Romans 12:15, “Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn,” minors on the rejoicing and majors on the mourning.  Sometimes it’s not so cute, and fun, and awesome.

I have been on the fringe of tragedy a little too often lately.  Like, family-shattering, life changing, devastating tragedy…. Like the kind of tragedy that, even though it is not your own, keeps you up at night with the thought of “what if it were me?”  Like the kind of tragedy that punches you in the gut and takes the wind out of you for a long time.  Like the kind of tragedy that makes you want to grab the remote of life and rewind, for goodness sake, or just turn the whole horrible thing off.  Like the kind of tragedy that pushes all of your worst fears to the very forefront of every unanswered phone call… and you can’t tell me not to worry about it because I just watched it all happen.  It did happen. What do we do with it?  How do we walk out the hardest of hards with one another?

When we look to the culture of women celebrated or at least made famous today we see shows like, “Keeping Up With The Kardashians,” or “The Real Housewives of ______.”   Although I may have paused on one of these for a few too many painful moments, I cannot say that I have watched either much.  But I can see, from headlines and social media, what they are all about.  You know too.  Women who are all about themselves.  Women who will get what they want no matter what.  Women who will put you down to lift themselves up.  Frenemies…. What the heck is a frenemy?   Who are these women?  Why do we want to watch as they back stab each other in their fancy clothes and huge hair?  Why can we not look away as their lives, relationships, and Botox unravels?   What does this say about us as women?

Do you have Bible crushes?  I know I’m a total nerd but I so do.  As far as the men go, it’s Joshua all the way for me!  Give me some Jericho marching, “as for me and my house-ing”, “be strong and courageous-ness” all day long.  But my girl-crush is precious Ruth.  Now, you want to talk about a lady that knew how to walk along someone in the midst of tragedy?  Our girl Ruth.  When her mother-in-law Naomi lost her husband and both her sons (Ruth’s husband included) in a foreign land, Ruth declared that she would travel back to Bethlehem with her.  When the women arrived back “home” to the whispers and gossip of The Real Housewives of Bethlehem, Ruth immediately did whatever she needed to make sure her mother in law was provided for.  She gleaned the fields behind the workers, even thought she was shunned and an outcast.   Her hard work and loyalty caught the eye of a rich land owner named Boaz and eventually he did whatever he had to do to gain Ruth as his wife.  Listen, this woman is in the genealogy of David, therefore Jesus.  Why?  She did not do drama, she did not quit, she did not shy away from grief, and she literally worked her fingers to the bone when the time of tragedy was upon her.  The blessing was in the work.  The work brought the blessing.

“And let our people learn to devote themselves to good works, so as to help cases of urgent need, and not be unfruitful” (Titus 3:14)

“Love one another with brotherly affection.  Outdo one another in showing honor.  Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord.  Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.  Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality.”  (Romans 12:10-13)

“Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God’s grace in its various forms.”  (I Peter 4:10)

“Christ has not body now but yours.  No hands, no feet on earth but yours.  Yours are the eyes through which He looks compassion on this world.  Yours are the feet with which He walks to do good.  Yours are the hands through which He blesses all the world.  Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, yours are the eyes, you are His body.  Christ has no body now on earth but yours.”  (Teresa of Avila)

Work.  There are times of prayer and notes and lovely thoughts.  And then there are just straight up times of work.  What do Real Housewives of the Church of Jesus do when tragedy strikes their tribe, their community, their Spiritual family?  They do the work.  Here is the deal, a family mourning needs to eat real meals.  A house full of devastated family members from out-of-town needs a real vacuum run.  A lawn left un-mowed by tragedy needs a real lawn mower.  Crying eyes need real water-proof mascara bought for the day you never wanted to live through.  It’s not always warm and snuggly and Facebook worthy, but this is real.

Last week, in the midst of this tragedy, I sent a simple text to a tribe member several steps closer to the heartache than me.  “Hey, I’m at the store.  Do you need anything?”  Yes, she did.  How thankful I was to be able to meet a real need in that moment.  So, I got the requested items and some flowers and a bottle of wine because flowers and wine makes everything a little better.  I met another dear friend over there and we unloaded the car and headed in. In the midst of her serving and meeting needs on the front line, her own home had been a bit neglected.  While she was on the phone working to make important arrangements, my friend and I rolled up our sleeves and started washing countertops and sink-fulls of dishes.   It didn’t matter that we didn’t know where they all went or which soap she liked to use on what… There was a real need and we met it.  Then, we prayed together.  She needed prayer.  We needed to pray.  The physical need was met so we sought to meet the spiritual one.  As we prayed together, we heard the click, click, click of a camera going off.  Her 4-year-old was taking pictures of us in this act (73 to be exact).  Later she sent us a few of these snapshots from her phone and we made the comment “Real Housewives of Midland, Tx.”

This is how you walk the hardest of the hard with each other, in living rooms surrounded by full laundry baskets and tissue boxes.  You roll up your sleeves and sacrifice your day and wash the dishes of a friend who cannot.  You make a bed and make a grocery run.  You bring a meal and some company.  You pray and cry and do the work of what this kind of grief requires.  I am the least of these.  I am humbled and learning from those that are so much better at this work than me.  I think we all serve in the ways we would want to be served if it were us and we probably fail there. I have.  But you come back and do the work.

Why would we waste one more moment watching women tear each other apart, use each other, hurt each other?  There is so much real work to be done, both in the rejoicing and in the mourning.  There is work to be done in birth and death, in raising kids and sticking marriages out, in enduring in-laws and caring for aging parents.  After seeing the rather unflattering pictures of us on that living room floor on that rainy, sad, Tuesday morning my immediate text back was “DELETE THESE!”  But, do you know what?   I’m glad we have them.  I’m glad to share them. (I’m glad my friends let me). Here is a tiny slice of the least of these desperately wanting to do the good work.  Can we make this what “Real Housewives of _____” are all about?  Women for women?  Women willing to wade through the hardest of hards together?  Women who are willing to stop reading, writing, posting, wishing for real community and brave enough to do the work to get there?  Let’s celebrate that, Girls.  In the midst of our tears or joy, let’s be a generation of Ruths willing to work hard for the good of each other.

 

 

 

Fish, Trees, and Courage

The end of the school year push is upon us and the crush of it is almost unbearable.  Though I can see the summer light at the end of the tunnel, the path to get there is so fraught with projects, performances, tournaments, and tests that I may never reach that lounge chair by the pool.  Currently my four children are involved in T-ball, baseball, soccer, art, track, and a huge ballet production.  I am morally opposed to my own family’s schedule.  Every morning before the Hubs leaves for work we have to form such a precise game plan for the afternoon and evening that I want to get back in bed before the day has even started!

Last Saturday morning I had to laugh at the absurdity of it all.  When we broke it to the 7-year-old that it was time for the sleepover with her bestie to come to a close and to don her shin-gaurds she pitched a huge fit because, obviously, she “hates soccer” and “never wants to do it again!”  No amount of reminding her that she was the one who had asked to play this season mattered.  About the time my hubs had reached his cheerleading limit and began yelling, the 11-year-old came in, leotard and tights on, hair in a bun with the exact 8 bobby pins required.  She proceeded to follow us around and remind us of the time as each minute clicked by.  No amount of reminding her that she has never been late for a rehearsal mattered.  So, my hubby began yelling at her for being too obsessed.  See?  We were frustrated with one because she didn’t want to go and frustrated with the other because she couldn’t wait to go….  After dropping the ballerina at the studio (30 minutes early, obviously) we drove to the soccer park with #8 and her two (thrilled) brothers in tow.  We waited in line to pull into the parking lot for 10 minutes and then drove around searching for a parking place for another 5.  Finally we get everyone unloaded and headed to field #17 to find the rest of the Heroes.

As I looked around at all of this I had this thought: “What if our grandparent’s generation could see this?  What if a family from a third world country fell in the middle of Butler Park right now?”  All around there were families carting wagons full of chairs and coolers and  fancy organic snacks.  They were toting crying children dressed in expensive soccer gear, hair fixed with huge color-coordinated.  Grown men were dressed in hot pink team shirts “coaching” 4 year olds in “drills.”  I just thought, “really?” This is how ALL OF THESE PEOPLE (myself included) are spending their day off?  I wonder how much $ is tied up in all of these tiny girls who are laying on the ground finding lady bugs and have no interest in soccer.  Really?  They could find bugs and pick flowers for free while I was sitting in the shade on my porch.  All of a sudden I felt duped, like we were mindless robots that had been brainwashed into thinking this was normal, or desirable, or beneficial at all.  Like, what else would all of these hard-working adult people do with a Saturday BUT sit in the freezing cold/ burning heat/ crazy wind and scream/yell/cheer/coach small children kicking a ball?

What are we doing?  Seriously ‘y’all, what in the very world?  Let me say this… I come from a family of athletes.  Both of my parents were college athletes.  2 of my grandparents were.  My father-in-law and brother-in-law were.  My brothers were athletes.  I played team sports. We all did.  I was a collegiate cheerleader.  It’s what we did, what we watched, what we talked about.  It still is.  But, like everything else in this culture, it has been turned up a notch to crazytown.   It seems the age of organized sports is stealing our kid’s childhood, and our sanity as adults.  No, I do not want to get my 10-year-old a batting coach.  No, I do not want to do a travel team for my 7 year old.  Yes, actually it IS my 5 YEAR OLDS first time to EVER play.  Seriously?  Crazytown.

Take a detour with me for a moment off the road to Crazytown….. Mamas, do you have a strategy for praying for your children?  Like do you hear these parents say things like, “I have prayed for my child’s spouse every day since conception?”  Really?  Have you really?  Or, “I pray for each of my children’s friends by name daily.”  All of this had me feeling a little behind the eight ball with my 4 kiddos growing up and going out into the world in front of my very eyes.  In the midst of my discouragement, I felt like the Lord dropped a plan into my heart that works for me.  Ready?  I’ll share…. I got a journal for my hubby and each of my 4 children.  On Monday I spend time in prayer for the Hubs…. write scripture I am believing for him, things I am thankful for in his life, petitions I am praying for him, etc.  Tuesday I do the same for kiddo #1, Wednesday is kiddo #2, Thursday #3, Friday #4.  There are seasons that I have filled pages and hours over certain behaviors, teachers, friends, heartaches, etc.  There have been seasons that I have had the luxury of praying for that future spouse because there are no pressing issues.   And, to be completely transparent, there may be certain children that fill up more pages in that prayer journal than others.  I may have a certain child that things don’t come as easy for…. I may have a certain child that I have cried more tears for, stressed over parent/teacher conferences about, held my breath at sporting events for more, prayed so so so many prayers about.  Maybe.

Let me tell you a little about this certain child.  This child has the kindest soul.  This child still yells, “I love you Mom!”  no matter who is around.  This child is a gifted artist.  This child will not go to sleep without me praying over them at night.  This child loves their friends fiercely.   This child can identify a plane in the air by the sound it makes.  This child knows every creature, bug, hole, stick, tree, and mound of dirt on the Ranchito.  This child LOVES nature and being outside.  This child can make me absolutely crazy but has the most beautiful eyes and head of hair you have ever seen.  This kid…. Let me tell you what they don’t give trophies for…. being a 10-year-old who still plays with your little brother kindly.  Let me tell you what will not be on a college transcript… how many birds, bunnies, cats, horny toads, and bugs you have saved in your life.  Let me tell you what doesn’t factor into a little league draft…. loyalty to friends.  Let me tell you what makes no difference on a report card…. hard work and honesty.  Nope.  In this day and age the only measurable successes kids have are how they do in sports and how they do in school. Culture fail.   What we are telling these kids is that how they perform on the field/court/track and in the classroom is all that matters at the end of the day… That is what we award.  That is what we measure.  That is what breaks my heart for certain kids.

I read this Einstein quote not long ago and it reminded me of a certain child: “Everybody is a genius.  But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.”

Man, I’d like to give my fish an ocean instead of a tree.  Why are there only trees around?

So, back to Wednesday and my prayer journal for a certain kid.  Here is the best thing God ever told me, “I made him just how he is supposed to be for my purposes.  Everything he is good at and loves is for a reason… bugs, airplanes, art.  Everything He is weak in I will use.”  It was as clear as anything I had ever heard before.  So, do I have the guts to believe it?  Can I get off of the road to Crazytown and jump in the water with my fish?  How can I find the balance?  How can I protect them all from the thief of comparison?  How can I fight it myself?  Because, here is the truth…. I like it when my kid is the best.  I like a win.  I like the A’s, the hits, the starring roles.  Am I the driving force behind this?  Are we peddling trees to fish?

I Corinthians 15:41 says, “The sun has one kind of splendor, the moon another and the stars another, and the star differs from star in splendor.”  It sounds like there is plenty of splendor to go around, according to our Creator, certain kid’s creator.  It’s just different.

What is the answer, Moms?  Really, I want to know… I don’t have a cute summary for you here.  I am kinda drowning under all of these activities and expectations on our kids at younger and younger ages.  I know I could take them out of everything.  I know I could take them out of their (part-time) school and full-time home-school them. I know I could buck the whole educational system and “Little House on the Prairie” it. I know I could pretend we lived 100 years ago and shut the whole thing down. That sounds kinda great for sure.  But that’s not my life, my town, my husband, my kids.  Here we are.  All I know to do is to pray hard, no matter what day of the week it is, to believe the best thing God ever told me.. To embrace those qualities and gifts that may not win awards but will win souls one day… To honor kindness and creativity and love above honor rolls and select teams.  To have the guts, here in Crazytown to “fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.  For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” (2 Corinthians 4:18).  What if we all took it down a notch and let our kids fail, let them be mediocre, let them quit sometimes.  What if we had a big ‘ole tree burning session for our fish?  Would it make us bad moms?  Mediocre moms?  Are we brave enough?

So, total confesh…. I have another kid.  It looks like we will be traveling to a different state to get her professionally fitted for pointe shoes (again) by one of 4 “Master Fitters” this summer.  We spend the big bucks on shoes and training.  She will be dancing 7 hours a day, 5 days a week for the whole month of June.  She lives at the studio.  But she loves it.  She eats, sleeps, breathes it.  She watches documentaries and practices and speaks a language I don’t know. She is gifted and has been given great opportunity. I get it Mamas of tree climbers…. I’ve got one too. I’m not judging!  Right or wrong, I’ll make sure she has the tallest, strongest, prettiest tree she can as long as she wants it. I’ll water that tree.  Heck, I’ll hang lights in it if she wants me to. But… sometimes we have fish and they need to know they were created for a purpose too.  I hope you are encouraged today to listen as God whispers some pretty great stuff to you as well as you pray over your certain kid.  Sometimes trophies are overrated.  Sometimes A’s don’t matter so much.  Sometimes being an okay fish in the middle of a forest in Crazytown is the bravest thing they can be.  Maybe the only thing braver is being their Mama.

 

It’s Always a Sprinkler Project

Spring is upon us at the Ranchito and it is my favorite! The pasture is popping with wildflowers, the hens are laying a dozen eggs a day (still in the same box, you know), the vegetable garden is planted (crooked rows and all).  We have even added fruit trees this year!  I am planting pots of flowers, replacing herbs that didn’t make it through the winter, and watching to see if my lantana and hydrangea come back.  The tiny Mexican Hat plants of last year are bushes full of bright blooms this year and the roses promise to be stellar! I love all the things.  Obviously, all projects are focused outside as the constant West Texas wind blows in the warmer weather.  A light bulb is out in your closet?  We’ll get to that in October.  The puppy ate the blinds again?  It’ll be fine until Fall! Your potty doesn’t flush?  Ummm….. ok, but spring is here!

Here is how most conversations go around here on a springtime Saturday morning:

Hubs: “What are you thinking you want to get accomplished this weekend?  What are you going to work on?”

Me: “Well, I need to hoe the garden, buy the veggies, and get them in the ground.  We need to get the fig tree planted next to the others.  I want the kids to clean the pool and scoop the poop.  I’ll clean out the coop.  I’m going to get some flowers for the hanging baskets and transplant some into the wheelbarrow.  I want to get the sweet potato vine going in the courtyard too so it’ll be awesome and everywhere sooner!  What about you?”

Hubs: “I need to go to Lowes and get stuff to fix the sprinklers.”

It is always a sprinkler project.  There always seem to be one or two zones acting up.  With four kids and four dogs running around, there is always at least one sprinkler head that is broken.  And all of my pretty flower beds, my veggie garden, my apple and pear trees would die very quickly without a working sprinkler system.  I know.  But no matter what I need done around here, it must get in line behind the sprinklers.  It’s like GO on the Monopoly board.  You have to pass it to get anywhere else.  Sitting here at my computer on a quiet Tuesday morning I’m not mad about it…. But sometimes on a Saturday afternoon?  Yeah.

We have a few “sprinkler projects” in our marriage too. Do you know what I mean?  There are a few areas that I know will always need attending to.  There are a few zones that may never work perfectly.  There are a few heads that seem to get knocked loose often and easily.  I can see it coming from a mile away.  I know the conversations that will do it.  I know the subjects that will cause the gusher.  I know the places that we have never seen eye to eye on.  I know the things that we have always stood at opposite corners on.  Maybe it is because of the families we grew up in, maybe it’s the Florida/Texas culture chasm, maybe it’s a Mars and Venus thing , maybe it’s our unique personalities, maybe it’s just our own sin and junk,  It’s probably all of those things.

My hubby always says, “We’ll never have an immaculate 7 acres.”  We concentrate on the front and back yards.  We tend to the flower beds.  We water and weed the garden.  But, he is right.  Way out here in the high desert we will never have all 7 acres landscaped and groomed.  It will never look like an English countryside (my secret dream.) It will also never look like my parents’ lush land on a lake in Florida where it rains every afternoon at 3pm sharp.  If you were to come to the Ranchito today you would be greeted by blooming white geraniums by the sidewalk and a cute little bench with a pillow that reads “home” on it.  There is a wreath straight from Magnolia Market on the front door.  If you were a tribe-member you would know that the front door is locked and no one has come in or out of it in a week and you would come through the courtyard to the sunset porch and in the kitchen door.  There you would see the herb garden, hanging baskets, tiny hydrangea making their spring debut, and friendly blue rockers.

I blow the leaves off of that porch every single day.  I keep it pretty.  If the wind died down enough and we decided to have a meal outside I would lead you to the backyard, past the rose bushes, to a long white table under a pool-side pergola.  If you left at night you would drive out of the gate with trees full of year-round lights in your rear-view mirror.  Here’s the deal, I wouldn’t invite you to sit and have a glass of wine with me behind the shop where we haul dead branches and debris. We’re not chatting it up in the school-room closet next to the litter box and papers strewn everywhere.  I’m not asking your kids to play way out in the pasture where there are stickers and cactus and possibly rattlesnakes.  But, just because those are real places doesn’t mean that all I just described isn’t beautiful.  We will never have an immaculate 7 acres.

Our marriage is the same.  Maybe there are some zones we should just leave alone.  There may be some areas that are never going to be blooming and beautiful.  After 16 years and a lot of redemption and work I can tell you that those areas are less and less, but there are still a few. But, we don’t have to live in the stickery, snake-filled pasture.  We have cultivated so many lovely areas that bring life and joy.  Just because there is a pile of debris out there doesn’t mean that there can’t be beauty right here.  We are two sinners, living together everyday, raising 4 little sinners, all under one loud, chaotic roof.  I once heard Beth Moore talk about her marriage and she said something like,  “Does it really always have to be great? Can’t it just be good?”  At the time this offended my 20 something, romantic sensibilities as I was sitting in a hot mess of a marriage.  Now, 16 years later, sliding into 40, I say, “Yes, Bethy (that’s my pet-name for her.  I’m sure she loves it)!  Yes, it can be good.  It can be really good.  Please don’t hear me say you should not work on things.  By all means, read a book, go to a retreat, get away together, don’t be afraid to have the hard conversations, pray. But at the end of the day know that no one has an immaculate 7 acres.  The areas in your marriage that have a perpetually busted sprinkler head may look perfect in someone else’ but they have their pile of dead branches too.   Does your hubby have a temper? Do y’all go round and round about budget?  Are in-laws a source of constant strife?  OK…. but is he a good provider, a hard worker, a hands-on dad that is doing the best he can? Maybe he is a huge help around the house but is terrible at community. Or maybe he has jumped head-first into your tribe but he never pursues you spiritually.  I get it.  But does it all have to be great?  Can we let it still be good?

We had a big “sprinkler project” issue this week.  We tip-toed around the leaky head for awhile.  We knew it had potential to be a mess.  We could have headed on over to a pretty, manicured spot in our relationship…. We didn’t.  I finally just reared back and kicked the thing as hard as I could.  It was a gusher.  My husband came to me a little while later and wisely said, “this is just one of those areas where we will have to agree to disagree.  We’ve come so far, let’s not do this.”  I wish I could tell you that I was gracious and mature in that moment.  Confesh… in the gushing emotions I wasn’t.  But he was right.  We will never have an immaculate 7 acres but we have so many beautiful spots in our marriage.  That is real.  That is good.

Marriage isn’t the only place we can apply the “sprinkle project principle” (so scientific, don’t you think?).  Do you do it with your kids?   Guess what your kids will never be good at?  EVERYTHING.  They will be really good at lots of things.  If you are a wise parent you will find their giftings and give them ample opportunity to soar.  But every single thing they try?  Everything that is ever asked of them?  Nope.  There will be some stickery patches and places that will never look neat and tidy.  Do you have a child that is super smart and goes through school with flying colors but will never get picked first for the baseball team?  What about a super talented artist who can’t seem to pass a math test?  Maybe you have a star athlete that has a hard time with relationships. Maybe you just have some normal kids that are ok in a lot of areas and less ok in others. No one’s child is perfect.  No one has an immaculate 7 acres.

What about yourself?  Do you do it to you?  Are you a great housekeeper and cook but you are a less “fun” wife and mom?  Are you the always willing “room mom” but can’t seem to get the laundry put away?  Do you and your husband have great communication and intimacy but you can’t stop looking at all your imperfections in the mirror?  Can you throw a Pinterest-worthy party but have a hard time engaging other women in real community?  Are you a leader in some areas and a failure in others.  We all have busted sprinkler heads, but look how beautiful that sunny patch is right there.

I think there is some peace and freedom in recognizing all of this.  I’m certainly not trying to hide our rough spots, or hide from them.  I just acknowledge they are there, work on them when we can, and focus on the areas that are life-giving.  That is really what it is about, isn’t it?  Focus?  If we are always looking at the weeds, at the debris, at the problems, we will never notice the wildflowers.   So, why don’t we all take a deep breath…. let’s grab a glass (I have plenty, you know), and go sit in the rocker on the courtyard instead of stomping around in the same ‘ole stickers.  Yes, there is a sprinkler head that is broken but it is lovely over here by the roses.  We will never have an immaculate 7 acres.  You will never have a perfect marriage, a perfect husband, a perfect child.  Guess what?  They will never have a perfect wife or mom either.  There is always a sprinkler project… But it can be so very good.

It’s Amazing What a Little Son Can Do

So my hubby and children are a part of a Daddy/Kids camping group.  Once every 3 months or so the dads plan, buy for, pack up, and take all the kids camping for a weekend.  There is usually some sort of ceremony or intentional devotional time planned.  It is impressive.  Now, for the 48 hours before they leave it is a hot mess.  There are late night trips to the grocery store (for them), a million texts going on, trailers, bikes, tents, sleeping bags pulled out and packed up.  There is confusion about who is riding with who and who is in charge of breakfast.  There are heated moments of, “what do you mean she doesn’t have water shoes that fit?”  etc.  There has literally never been something I am more glad that I am not a part of.  But, as crazy as it is,  the moment comes when they all load up and pull out like a caravan of loud, excited, over-packed banshees and….SILENCE.  They are gone.  I AM ALONE IN MY OWN HOUSE.  I cannot express to you how strange and wonderful it is.  It takes a few hours to really let it sink in that no one is going to call my name when I get in the shower, or that I can turn on whatever show I want, or I can eat food without someone asking for it.

The other wonderful thing about these spectacular little weekends is that many of my friends’ hubbies and kids are a part of this camping group as well- which means that they are all alone too!!! This obviously means that none of us will be alone for long- but together!  Dinner reservations are made, wine and cheese evenings are planned, movie tickets are bought.  Watch out world!  Last weekend was one such treasure.  I struck the perfect balance of silence and conversation with friends, of alone time and tribe time, of relaxation and productivity.  Because the weather was going to be warmish I invited the girls over for a little lunch by the pool on Saturday.  I scrubbed the lounge chairs for their inaugural spring lay out session, and wiped the table clean of a winter’s worth of grime.   Yay Spring!!!!  Everyone came over with fruit and chicken salad, chips and dip, mimosa fixings…. You would have thought we were at a 5 star resort and not the Ranchito.  Lunch and drinks in hand we proceeded out to the pool… Now, when I say warmish you have to know that way out here in West Texas, Spring is always accompanied by wind.  Lots of crazy, dusty, stupid wind.  We braved it.  We sat out in that sunshine and ate our girly lunch and drank our girly drinks and ignored the wind and the little chill it brought.  We did it for the sun.

Oh, the sun.  We have a long and wonderful relationship.  In my Floridian, beach living youth I made an Olympic event of laying out and I was a gold medalist.  I used to play on the softball team just so I could roll my sleeves up, spray some lemon juice in my hair, and get some sun.  I was known to wear a bathing suit under my church dress just so there was less hassle in getting to the back deck.  I currently own more swim suits than I do pairs of shoes.  I have a T-shirt that reads, “I just want to drink coffee, save animals, and take naps.”  I haven’t taken a nap since I was 4… I wish it said “and lay out.”  I adore that first sting of sunburn every year.  Now, I know about all the dangers of too much sun.  I have replaced my baby oil with SPF (6?).  I take precautions with the kids (at least in May).  I know.  But, oh the sun.   It’s good for the soul if not for the wrinkles.  Sometimes a little fresh air and Vitamin D is all you need to turn a day around.  I’m telling you, I don’t care if your hair is newly colored and styled, your outfit is super fab, and your makeup is perfect… nothing beats the rose the sun will put on your cheeks.  It’s amazing what a little sun can do.

So here is the obvious and cheesy cross-over.  It is also amazing what a little bit of Son can do… See what I did there?  As in, it’s amazing what a little bit of time with Jesus can do for your day, your week, your countenance.  Do you make it too difficult sometimes?  I know I do…. It seems that the biggest buzz word of the last few years is intentional.  I got nothing but love for intentional.  If you throw the word intentional on anything it takes it to another level.  It seems we are to be intentional with our time, our words, our food, our bodies, our relationships, our holidays, our kids’ education, our finances….. ALL OF IT!   And we should be… no doubt because THIS IS IT!  Yes for all the intention!  But sometimes it feels a bit weighty, doesn’t it?  I can certainly bring this burden into my relationship with Jesus.  I have been known to be reading so many books at one time that I can’t keep them straight.  I am a bit of a sermon junkie and can listen to entire series in the span of one week’s worth of ironing.  Bible studies?  Bring them on!!! And have you seen the new journaling Bibles?  I will now need a whole new Pinterest board for this phenomenon!!! And art supplies! A new plan for scripture memorization? I’ll take it! One for the kids? Yes!  A great marriage devo?  I’m sure we have time to be intentional with that….

In all of that I can become a little like my legs in February… pale, sickly, and ugly.  I can gain a lot of knowledge but do you know what I really need?  A little bit of Son.   Currently I am crushing on a monk from the 1600’s named Brother Lawerence.  (I told you I am a nerd).  He was the unknowing author of a treasure called “The Practice of the Presence of God: The Best Rule of Holy Life.”  I say unknowingly because this little book is a collection of letters and conversations he had with a friend which he never intended to be read by anyone else.  In fact he even says in one letter, “I must tell you that it is with great difficulty that I am prevailed on by your importunities: and now I do it only upon the terms that you show my letter to nobody.  If I knew that you should let it be seen, all the desire that I have for your advancement would not be able to determine me to it.”  I doubt very seriously he would love to know I am quoting him here on my little blog in 2016… Sorry Larry.  Anyway, Brother Lawrence’s life was one of simplicity and devotion (Proskartereo, anyone?).  It turns out that he worked in the kitchen at the monastery… I can relate.  He was noticed and sought out by others because of his complete contentedness and joy within his mostly mundane tasks.  It was said of him in one of the “conversations” in the book, “It was observed that in the greatest hurry of business in the kitchen, he still preserved his recollection and heavenly-mindedness.   He was never hasty nor loitering, but did each thing in its season, with an even, uninterrupted composure and tranquility of spirit. ‘The time of business,’ said he, ‘does not with me differ from the time of prayer; and in the noise and clatter of my kitchen, while several persons are at the same time calling for different things, I possess God in as great tranquility as if I were upon my knees at the blessed sacrament.”  And…. now I cannot relate.  If you walked into the kitchen at the Ranchito at approximately 6pm every evening as I am trying to get some sort of dinner on the table amidst the evening activities and “several persons at the same time calling for different things” the words heavenly-mindedness, even uninterrupted composure, or tranquility of spirit would not be the first that come to mind.

What did Brother Lawrence know that I have trouble grasping when the rubber meets the road, or the roast meets the oven?  He made it simple. SIMPLE. He was intentional about simply practicing the presence of God.  He says, “That we ought to act with God in the greatest simplicity speaking to Him frankly and plainly and imploring His assistance in our affairs, just as they happen.”  He goes on, “that we might accustom ourselves to a continual conversation with Him, with freedom and in simplicity.  That we need only to recognize God intimately present with us, to address ourselves to Him every moment.” It was said of this hard-working, kitchen monk, “That his prayer was nothing else but a sense of the presence of God, his soul being at that insensible to everything but Divine love: and that when the appointed times of prayer were past, he found no difference, because he still continued with God, praising and blessing Him with all his might, so that he passed his life in continual joy.”  

Do you remember what happened to Moses when he went to speak to God on behalf of the Israelites?  Exodus 34:33-35 says, “When Moses finished speaking to them, he put a veil over his face.  But whenever he entered the Lord’s presence to speak with Him, he removed the veil until he came out.  And when he came out and told the Israelites what he had been commanded they saw that his face was radiant. Then Moses would put the veil back over his face until he went in to speak with the Lord.”  Talk about a glowing complexion…. Moses had it figured out.   Isn’t is wonderful that on this side of the cross we don’t need a Moses to seek God for us?  We no longer need a priest to take our prayers and confessions to the Lord.  The veil has been torn and we can approach the Lord ourselves and get our own dose of Son.

I am all for intention.  I am passionate about studying the word of God.  I have a small problem with books, as in Amazon is my bestie and I order from her daily.  As I said before, I am a sermon junkie.  I loved to be filled with knowledge.  I love to learn new things.  I love to talk about them and discuss them.  I want “my days to be numbered aright so that I may gain a heart of wisdom (Psalm 90:12).” BUUUUUTTTTTT…… “The kingdom of God is not a matter of talk but of power (I Corinthians 4:20).”There is power in the presence of God… The presence of God IS power.  Maybe today you let yourself lay all the weight of being intentional about every detail of your life down.  Maybe you even put the highlighters and colored pencils away.  Perhaps the new book, or study, or sermon can wait and you could dust off the lounge chair and just sit in the Son for a while.  Invite him to invade your space with His presence whether that is in your car, shower, office, kitchen.  Relax.  As Brother Lawrence says, “A little lifting up of the heart suffices.  A little remembrance of God, one act of inward worship, are prayers which however short are nevertheless very acceptable to God.”  No veil for us!  No SPF either! It’s amazing what a little Son can do!

The Great Exchange

Is there anything worse than taking things back?  You have accomplished a task, marked something off of your to do list, and then because it is too big, too small, the wrong color, broken, whatever, you have to add a new errand right back to the list.   Hate it.  Well, I’m going to tell you a little story at my own expense.   Within my tribe we call this “confesh.”  It is short for confession.  (We also say Amazefest USA a lot.  Welcome.).  So here it is, confesh…

I had been searching for cute, vintage inspired drinking glasses to match my antique wine glasses for a while.  Then one night we were at my brother and sis-in-love’s for dinner and she served my tea in the cutest glasses you’ve ever seen.  I said, “This is exactly what I have been looking for but I want them in “my blue” instead of clear.”  (Everything in my world is a turquoise blue right now… the walls at the Ranchito, my dishes, my new rain boots,  my bitmoji’s dress.  When I’m over this color I will have to sell my entire life).  To this my sis-in-love says they are Pioneer Woman glasses from WALMART and they come in blue!!!!  Excellent.  So, with some spring entertaining on the horizon I sat down at the computer the next day and ordered 12 adorable glasses…. or so I thought.  A few days later I was summoned to the front door by my oldest saying, “Mom, what are ALL these boxes?”  I went out to find 12 medium-sized boxes strewn all down the front walk.  When I saw they were from Pioneer Woman I was so excited but then did have the thought, “Man, Ree is serious about packing these cute glasses.”  Y’all, when I opened them up I realized that every box was a pack of 4 glasses!  I had 48 glasses. 12 boxes.  Good grief.

Yes, I should have realized that each glass was not $15 from Walmart.  I know.  Whatever.  Good Confesh.  So, I kept not just the original 12 glasses but made room for 16 just so it was one less box to take back… To Walmart.  Ugh!   Currently there are 8 boxes of glasses sliding around in the back of my car.  I have rearranged them multiple times to make room for groceries, bikes, baseball gear and soccer chairs because I am avoiding the whole taking them back thing.  Boo!

The dread of taking things back or exchanging them reminds me of Romans 1, one of the most powerful chapters in the Bible.  Romans 1:18-22 says, “The wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all the foolishness and wickedness of men who suppress the truth by their wickedness, since what may be known about God is plain to them because God has made it plain to them.  For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities-His eternal power and divine nature-have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse.  For although they knew God, they neither glorified Him as God nor gave thanks to Him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened.  Although they claimed to be wise, they became fools and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images made to look like mortal man and birds and animals and reptiles.”  Romans 1:25 sums it up like this, “They exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator.”

We see a few important things here.  First of all, God is not trying to hide from us.  It says that since the creation of the world, God’s invisible qualities have been clearly seen in that very creation.  It says that what may be known about God is plain to everyone because He has made it plain to them.  Then Paul goes on to write that men are without excuse, because God has literally gone out of His way to make Himself plain to us.  I like this.  No excuses.  God is not trying to make things mysterious or difficult.  He is not just for the extremely learned or perfectly holy.  He is in plain view with every sunrise, wildflower, ocean wave, child’s smile, or full moon.  BUT, we also see that mankind has chosen to exchange what they plainly, in their very souls, know about God, for foolishness and futile thoughts.  They exchanged their worship of the Immortal God for the worship of mortal things.  They exchanged truth for lies.   A big, dumb exchange.

We do it too, don’t we?  Exchange the truth of God for lies?   Exchange our gratitude and worship of the Creator for gratitude and worship of the things He has created?  Now when I read Romans 1:23 and learn that they are worshiping “images made to look like mortal man and birds and animals and reptiles,” I picture some sort of totem pole you would find in Indiana Jones or on the River Cruise at Disney (Sorry, I have a weird Disney filter of the world being from Florida and all).  Maybe images of Aaron’s golden calf come to mind.  I doubt any of us are bowing down to these literal carved images.  But we do bow to man-made things, don’t we?  We wouldn’t say that we worship money, but if our time and brain power were indicators, we sure do worship what it can buy.

I have had seasons of bowing down to my home and what I wanted to do to it, put in it, make it look like, etc.  Hello, HGTV.  What a love/hate relationship I have with you! I’ve done it with clothes too.  I will admit that there was a time I spent way too much time obsessing over what my kids would wear.  (And, they did look PRESH once upon a time.  Now we generally go for hobo-chic.  It’s kinda like boho-chic except without so much the matching and the hair fixed).  What about all the things we can buy or do to make ourselves look better- I mean have you seen all the YouTube tutorials out there on hair and make-up?  What about working out?  Any exercise idolaters out there?  Paul even speaks to this one in I Timothy 4:8 when he says, “For physical training is of some value but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come.”  Are you faithful to the gym but find it difficult to set time aside to spend with Jesus?   We can worship people- they are created things too.  Have you ever worshiped your husband or your kids?  And please keep in mind that worshiping doesn’t necessarily mean that you think every move they make is perfect.  Our worship is evident in the time, energy, and sacrifice we make.  We can spend a lot of time thinking, complaining, or trying to control what we don’t like.  That is still worship.

Obviously, anything that we put in front of or in place of God is an idol in our lives.  It is an exchange.   I doubt anyone would admit to this worship but if we count brain cells spent or words poured out we would see the heart.  Here’s another confesh for you… I probably  expend the most worship on myself.  I think about me a lot.  I think about how I feel or what I want to do.  I think about what I want to accomplish or what I think someone may think about me.  I think about what I think about me!  Though you may not know it to look at me, I do in fact spend a bit of time thinking about what I look like or what I wished I looked like.  I worship my expectations of others.  I worship my to-do lists.  I worship my agendas.  I have exchanged the truth of God- that He is central, that He is all I need, that He is actually God, for a lie- that I am what is most important, that my feelings are what matter most, that I am god of my life, my family, even my day.  I know that I make a terrible god, and yet I still bow down to self an awful lot.  What a stupid exchange I have made.  And the more I do it, the darker, more foolish, and more futile my thoughts, my heart, and my words become.

You see, Jesus made The Greatest Exchange for us.  2 Corinthians 5:21 says, “God made Him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.”  We get to exchange our sin for His righteousness.  Our shame for His holiness.  Our guilt for His perfection.  Our darkness for His light.  Our death for His life.  Our hunger for His manna.

We were made to worship… Just look around at how we obsess over celebrities, how fired up we get at sporting events, at how we feel at concerts.  We are worshipers.  Let’s encourage each other to not make foolish exchanges.  Let’s seek the Father’s face and not just His hands.  Let’s keep Creator and creation in their right places and exchange the lies for the truth of God.  Nothing else will last.  Nothing else will fulfill.  He is our very great reward, not what He has given us or what He can do for us, or what He has made for us.  No excuses.  It is plain.  Cheers!