Author: Caroline

When I'm not riding in the backseat of my Grandpa's restored vintage car "Mable," I'm doing other things like... rising to most adventure occasions my husband proposes / chasing our toddler around Brooklyn / enjoying neighbors, strangers, and friends / making countless trips to the laundromat / writing for various publications and for personal reflection / loving and serving our local church / cleaning the bathroom / hosting small and big crowds in our home / meeting up with a friend for coffee / thinking Vocation is my strange frenemy. Though I have worked and existed in many stations/places, I am convinced that each day has good work to be done and that I am equipped and prepared to do that good work. This blog explores the tension and the intersection of a constant vocational call - to good work, neighbor love, and living in the kingdom come. My favorite things are coffee and creating and laughing (preferably with company). I love to listen to sermons and read biographies and make tea before going to bed.

my car smells like a freshly showered man

I originally ventured into the automotive section at Walmart because my grandpa told me that a product called, “automotive goop” would remedy the flappy piece of fabric hanging from the door of my car. Of course, he told me to go to O’Reilly’s, but I didn’t have anything else to pick up at an Auto Parts store, so I opted to make it one of many things I could accomplish in one place (ever the efficient go-getter).

Somehow, after wandering the aisles for several minutes and not finding this “goop” product (and, frankly, questioning the existence of such a product), I came to a familiar conclusion: my time in the automotive section would not be wasted. And that’s when I saw the air fresheners. I’ve actually been meaning to pick up air freshener for my car (I had a little episode with ham and bean soup and another with coffee), but it was never at the top of my list.

The number of scents was overwhelming: fresh linen, citrus sunshine, new car scent, alpine meadow, summer breeze. I got impatient and went with “titanium rain.” I thought – who could go wrong with rain scent? I love rain!

Well, turns out, they should have called it, “a mix between old spice and irish spring that smells like a freshly showered man.”

The thriftress in me refuses to choose another scent and waste $2.53, so it’ll just be another thing that brings out the gauche in me. Just so you know, if you see me driving eddie (my little honda) wafting in the fresh air with all the windows down, it’s to balance out the smell of a freshly showered man inside my car.

Come on and laugh with me, will you?

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

And if you’re wondering, I ended up finding the “goop” product at Hobby Lobby when I was looking for something else and have since handy-manned that flappy fabric problem like a pro. 

Posted on by Caroline 0

heaven’s my home, anyhow

But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself.
(Philippians 3:20-21 ESV)

I used to think heaven was a far-off, mysteriously cloudy place with a full orchestra on loop. I understood my “heavenly citizenship” to mean I had a ticket to get into some gloriously holy, underwhelming theme park where all the rides would be safe and all the fun would be clean.

Man, was I ever wrong.

No, I don’t believe that heaven is full of unholy and unsafe rollercoasters with unruly people. Rather, I realized that my knowledge of heaven was incomplete because I believed an incomplete description. It’s hard work to find out what the Bible says about heaven, true. But, it’s work that allows us to live like the Gospel is invaluable. What we think about heaven and eternity completely informs what we think about today, what we think about life, and what we think about the message of the Gospel.

When we share the Gospel like this, “Believe in Jesus because otherwise you’ll go to hell!” we are not doing justice to the message. If you were a sought-after artist, it would be like telling someone you would paint a masterpiece and then only covering a corner of the canvas with paint. Is it a part of what will be the bigger masterpiece? Yes. But would someone admire that little corner of the masterpiece as he would the whole? No. They would call it incomplete (actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if the art community would seize the unfinished and project meaning anyway). I would call it incomplete.

And this is what I think we do with heaven. It’s that place somewhere that I’ll be someday because I believe that Jesus died for my sins, according to the Scriptures – because I believe that Jesus took on all the messes that ever were and ever will be and stood in the place of their consequence. But, why?

Because of Christ’s work on the cross, we are brought into right relationship. This is what eternity is about. This is what heaven is about: right relationship that I do not deserve. And it’s not as mysterious as we’ve been content to think. A more robust view of heaven and eternity means a life blooming with gratitude and joy. When we have eyes to see God’s plans for heaven, we have a heart to reach out and pull others in to gaze at the wild beauty.

Randy Alcorn says, “If you lack a passion for heaven, I can almost guarantee it’s because you have a deficient and distorted theology of heaven (or you’re making choices that conflict with heaven’s agenda). An accurate and biblically energized view of heaven will bring a new spiritual passion to your life.”

Heaven is not an escape from this earth. It’s not where we will finally run where no evil can find us. Heaven is God’s idea of complete restoration – a peace between God and man and all of creation that hasn’t happened since the Garden of Eden. This gives perspective to our momentary troubles, but it also brings a passion to live absolutely abandoned for God’s purposes.

This song, “Heaven’s My Home” is another among the many that focus on a distant land, another home, a forever refuge. Featured in the film, “Secret Life of Bees,” this song captures some of the reasons why we hope for something beyond right now. The brokenness we see and feel in this world is unsettling. That little piece of eternity set in our hearts (Ecclesiastes 3:11) is uncomfortable thinking this is all there is. But, I hope we are not content with simple descriptions of harps and clouds and mystery. I hope we dive into the Word and trust that the Lord knows best what eternity is made of… and that He might want us to know a thing or two.

Sam & Ruby Live- “Heaven’s My Home” from sammy b on Vimeo.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

Posted on by Caroline 0

therapy, cohabitation, syndrome success, and momentary marriage

Several things made me emotional today – in mostly good ways. I’d like to share a few of them with you in the form of these links in hopes that you’ll be encouraged, challenged, and spurred on. These are all inroads for conversation. That’s how I see it. The more we take in of our culture, the more ready we are to “give a reason to anyone who asks about the hope that we have.” Hope is not something that shows up once or twice a week. Hope makes appearances in conversations over a coffee or a beer or on the sidelines at a little league game. And these can be inroads, so let’s not waste our opportunities to engage.

  • I appreciated this article from Qideas, “Overcoming the Merely Therapeutic.” In a 2005 study (according to researchers Christian Smith and Melinda Lundquist Denton), teenagers say that worship is, “something like a combination Divine Butler and Cosmic Therapist: he’s always on call, takes care of any problems that arise, professionally helps his people to feel better about themselves, and does not become too personally involved in the process.” Revered Gregory Jensen responds to these findings and also reviews a recent book, Coming Apart: The State of White America, 1960–2010 (2012).
  • This article by Scotty Smith, “Pray the Scriptures” for how it seeks to battle the, essentially therapeutic idea, by knowing God through His Word and then forming a conversation from that knowledge.
  • If you’ve got high school graduation parties to attend, think about giving a gift off this book list. It will last longer than the food gift cards and picture frames, promise.
  • This is a brilliant article by writer George Will in the Washington Post on the life of Jon Will – 40 years and going with Down’s Syndrome. I felt like I just watched a beautiful, short film of a life lived well (and still living).
  • Switching gears a bit, this article from the New York Times is more than interesting. The Downside of Cohabiting Before Marriage is important on so many levels. Something about being published in the NYT gives a topic legitimacy and makes it a valid conversation over cards.
  • This article, “Who Wants to Buy Honduras,” hits pretty close to home for me. With a country whose past is layered with corruption and poverty, are charter cities really the way out?
  • In view of the recent Desiring God conference on men and ministry and masculinity, I appreciated this article from Michael Horton, “Muscular Christianity.” Do you have thoughts on how manly Christianity is or if it is even worth deciding?
  • Lastly, I want to encourage you to watch this film on Ian and Larissa. Their marriage story is absolutely broken and beautiful. May God receive the glory!

Okay, friends. That’s all for now. Click one or two if you have to choose, but just do something with the knowledge.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

Posted on by Caroline 0

brown sugar vanilla cappuccino

I know what you’re thinking: this is either me taunting you about a delicious drink I bought for $5.00 OR me taunting you about a delicious drink I found on Pinterest that you would never make.

Surprise! It’s neither.

This delightful little number will make your morning, noon, and/or night taste like comfort. And, just so you know, the directions are about as simple as they come (which is good, because I spend a lot of time trying to make things in my life complicated).

Here’s what you do:

1) Throw some of your best brew in your coffeemaker (nothing fancy, but make it on the strong side)
2) While your java’s brewing, fill your mug halfway with skim milk
3) Add a capful of vanilla to the milk and a few lumps of brown sugar
4) Heat the milk in the microwave for 30-45 seconds
5) Place a wire whisk in your warmed milk and slide your hands back and forth to create a good, stiff foam
6) Pour your hot java into the foamed concoction
7) Sprinkle a little cinnamon on top to make it look like someone else made it

ENJOY!

This is how my morning started today – with a coffee that looked like it was ordered off a hip, chalkboard menu. If that doesn’t put a person in a good mood, I don’t know what would.

*My cousin Vince told me yesterday that my post was, “weird.” I guess I’m trying to take a little break from the long-winded posts as of late. I’m sure my grandparents will thank me. 

Posted on by Caroline 0

regular about the best things

Last night I was listening to my grandparents tell me all their secrets for staying regular. Grandpa, a self-proclaimed cereal connoisseur, has got a mix for his mornings that’s a perfect combination of taste and function (so he tells me).

I think the recipe goes something like this:

1/2 bar of shredded wheat

a “shot” of All Bran nuts

a shot of Wheat Chex

some sweetened Puffed Wheat

a tablespoon of peach juice

peaches (optional)

milk poured over the whole masterpiece

Grandma rolled her eyes through the telling of this recipe and then plopped a container of prunes in front of her finished dinner plate. “He does all that cereal stuff and I do prunes,” she told me.

There are a lot of things people do regularly, but not all of them serve a function as important as our internal pipelines. Our culture makes sure to get a regular dose of TV programming every week, meet for regular happy hours, and be a “regular” at the corner coffee shop. As crazy as our culture loves to be, we still like pieces of our lives to be regular. There’s a certain steadiness and safety about knowing what happens every Tuesday at 7 pm and every morning at 8:35. We like regularities because they serve as mile markers on our journey that remind us we’re still on a road (even if we’re lost).

When we’re young, we can be cavalier about what we make regular. When you get older, though, your body starts to decide for you – it makes priorities about what needs to be regular and you’ll know it when you’re not.

The body has a way of reminding you that you can’t escape it’s function.
And even in this we see the intentionality and creativity of the Father. Our bodies are made with a rhythm.

And sometimes (can I say this?), faith is like that.
Meeting with the Lord every day is as regular as the way our body functions… and sometimes just as unsophisticated.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

and load up on fiber!

Posted on by Caroline 0

the importance of being productive

It’s no secret: I’m poor at math. I don’t get very jazzed about number crunching. If I can be suckered into an equation, it’s nearly always a story problem (such as this one). So, when I take on the topic of productivity, allow me to sketch abstractly what could be made a very reliable algorithm (by someone else).

As I process (again) all the questions my high school counselor asked me as a senior – about career and vocation and calling – it seems like I might have moved little from my simplistic 18-year-old goals. In response to the question, “Where will you be in 10 years?” I wrote a paper as a junior. I imagined myself in the middle of Africa, married to a doctor named Mr. Bergenfeld, and answering to “Auntie” from the 405 children at the local orphanage. Yes, I’m sure I wrote 405 – I was ornery like that.

I spent my college years throwing my willingness at wonderful things and learning like my face pressed to fire hydrants. Even as I met with several mentors, it seemed that “my heart” was pointing me in the direction of missions and jungles and poverty and the simple life.   This kind of calling seemed exciting, noble even. Me and everyone else on my campus dreamed of making big things happen and being in the thick of it when they do. I wanted dirt on my elbows and a cardboard box to call home. I didn’t want to be stuck in an office talking about change and waiting on red tape and bureaucracies. I wanted in.
All in.

That’s what we all said in college. Maybe a few people sheepishly said how most really felt, “I don’t want anything to do with cardboard or 405 orphans. I’ll support whoever does, but give me the office and the red tape. It’ll all work out fine.”

Everyone has their own values that make up their vocational pursuits, but for me, I envisioned myself serving others – doing something in the trenches, rubbing shoulders with folks who have real messes that I could help mend. I envisioned my passionate pursuit of Christ leading me into a simple lifestyle and most likely missionary work overseas. I envisioned purpose coming from 405 orphan children who called me, “Auntie.” I envisioned living in a remote area and tackling daily needs like washing laundry in the river.

Well, here I am almost 10 years out of high school and I’m taking stock on some of those simplistic 18-year-old goals. And here’s a bit of what I found (this is where the mathematician can offer to co-write a book with me on this).

The question of calling and vocation is not as simple as what you’re most passionate about or even what you do best. The question of calling is understanding who God is and then figuring out how you can be most productive in giving Him glory.

We are called – each of us – to know God and to be most productive in giving Him glory.

And this is where I got really confused. I was figuring out my “calling equation” based on the lives of some of my heroes + what I thought was the ultimate act of service + my willingness to spill out joy wherever I went. I thought it could look a lot of ways, but it certainly looked like me being willing to do anything – even hard things outside my gifts and passions.

The problem was that, as I grew to know God better, I started to feel like I wasn’t the most productive. I was doing everything required and meeting the expectations at my jobs, but I always had this itch to read books and talk philosophy and wrestle with the lyrics of songs and dialogue about the cultural implications of our increasingly secular secondary institutions. I wasn’t really ever with dirt on my elbows in the trenches, though I got as close as I could wherever I went. I did always end up creating newsletters and forming committees and counseling colleagues and developing countless proposals for new programs.

There was a knot forming in my gut and I’ve only now just named it: I’m not using my gifts.

Can I survive anywhere? Yes.
Will God allow me the joy that overflows in any situation/vocation/career? Yes.
Do I bring the same amount of glory to God, regardless of vocation? No.

We cannot be “above” or “below” a vocation – we can only be more or less productive. I know of many God-fearing executives or administrators who are not most productive for God’s glory in their position. They were “promoted” to that status because of their work ethic as employee or teacher – because that’s where they were most productive. I also know of high-powered executives who think they can easily translate their business sense into the trenches kind of work, but they become less productive in the process.

At the end of the day, I can give you a physical number to prove my productivity. I can give you students registered, emails sent, orders completed, papers folded, printer crises averted, and invoices sent. I’m strictly talking tangibles (I hope I will always be productive with the conversations and the laughter and the little ways to shine light in dark places).

But, the question is not, “Am I productive with whatever is before me – with energy and joy and a servant heart?” The question is, “As I know God better, am I being most productive in giving Him glory?”

Maybe the reason we keep getting tripped up on this productivity thing is that we don’t hold our vocations to a higher standard. We think we’re off the hook if we’re not “called” into a position at a church.

But, we are all called. Luther said,

“Monastic vows rest on the false assumption that there is a special calling, a vocation, to which superior Christians are invited to observe the counsels of perfection while ordinary Christians fulfil only the commands; but there simply is no special religious vocation since the call of God comes to each at the common tasks.”

We are all called to know God, find out what pleases Him, and delight to please Him together with the Body of Christ. This is not ministry, it’s life. As we walk out our calling, we’ll find that what pleases Him is excellence. Some of us will be excellent at Excel documents and some of us will be excellent at growing bananas and some of us will be excellent at conversation.

I think (mathematician, will you check my work on this?), that if the Body of Christ resolves to know God, find out what please Him and delights to please Him together, we will end up divinely appointed in every vocation, with a productivity that would shock the most lucrative corporation.

This is the importance of being productive.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

Posted on by Caroline 1

I was never brilliant

It’s true. I was always that girl who grew up on a farm and knew how to work hard, but I was never brilliant.

In high school, I campaigned enough to be President of all the right groups and practiced enough to make first chair trumpet. I played enough to letter in sports and performed enough to be cast as lead roles in musicals. I studied enough to make the Honor Roll and tested high enough to opt out of finals.

I was smart enough, but I was never brilliant.

In college, I earned enough good grades to be invited into the Pew Society and find my name on the Dean’s List. I was active enough in the community to annoy my friends with my schedule and passionate enough about missions to let it consume much of my time.

I was smart enough, but I was never brilliant.

I don’t mention these things to puff myself up, actually I’m about to do the opposite. As I consider the reasons why I haven’t pursued further study, I discovered a very twisted kind of pride. See, because I was not a child prodigy, I tried not to measure myself against brilliance. I read and thought and wrote and digested as much knowledge as I could get my hands on, but I didn’t want anyone to test me on it. I wanted to be an expert in areas I could handpick (and self-declare my expert status).

Ugh. This is ugly.

It didn’t matter that the topics I raised for discussion weren’t as interesting or as important to the people at the table (or that I rarely raised questions about their area of expertise), what mattered was finding that sweet spot where my “smart enough” looked pretty good.

I remember thinking, “Now, that’s brilliance,” as I listened to visting speakers and read various authors. I’ve always said that a dream of mine is to sit with C.S. Lewis, Corrie Ten Boom, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and G.K. Chesterton in a musty, old library. That’s a room full of brilliance, right there. But, I wonder if I would have chosen to hang out with those folks, had they been on my campus. I wonder how I would respond to their rebuke or their questions.

I was never brilliant, but I was comfortable thinking I could be the best of mediocre.

I wonder what Dietrich Bonhoeffer would say to that.

Posted on by Caroline 5

the fear that brings wisdom

Okay, it’s about to get awkward and honest. Well, more honest than awkward (I do enough of that in real life) but you might feel awkward reading my latest loop-de-loop that’s got me feeling exposed.

Did I ever tell you I’m stubborn? Well, I am. And I can blame it on Nichols nature or I can blame it on the human condition or I can take full credit for that thing in me that resists when people offer to help carry an obviously too-heavy load. Yep, I’m stubborn. And I’m pretty accustomed to the good and bad situations I get into because of it.

Recently, though, I’ve been surprised.
I never thought my stubbornness would keep me fearful or help me avoid risk or support “playing it safe.” All those things seem like what I use stubbornness to fight against nearly every day. I always thought stubbornness was something I could use to my advantage – to push through when things were hard or didn’t make sense. My knowledge of the Lord led me straight into a very stubborn belief that, in any situation, I can “grin and bear it.” I thought stubbornness was almost holy, I guess.

And here’s where it gets honest. 

I’m afraid of the GRE.
I’m nervous that I can’t kick it in grad school.
I’m worried I might choose a specialized field that doesn’t translate practically to serving real people.
I hate the thought of looking foolish in a classroom.
I fear the pride of another degree.

And I guess a combination of the above is what led me to steer clear of institutionalized higher learning after I graduated in 2007. I actually researched graduate programs that didn’t require the GRE and have since looked for “continuing education” programs that don’t emphasize a degree. That’s how stubborn I was about my fears.

And I was missing out.

When Christ promised to bring life in abundance, he did not call everyone to the same position or profession. He is big enough to be abundant in the life of a lawyer and big enough to be abundant in the life of a shepherd. I got so stubborn holding onto Him being “big enough to be abundant” while I fill my schedule with part-time work that I refused to think there were other ways I could use/grow my gifts. This was my excuse on the surface for all those other stubborn reasons I wasn’t sharing.

“I know God will use me wherever I am, as long as I’m willing to be used.”

That little bit of self-talk has been on replay since I came back to the States on a mad hunt for a job to pay off my school debt. It kicked up into high chipmunk-style gear when I started working for my uncle on the farm and then when I accepted two part-time jobs in Ames. I just kept saying, I’ve just got to be willing. I still believe it’s true, but I also believe it allowed me to hide. It was Jim Elliott who said, “Wherever you are, be all there.” And to that I say, amen! But, I would add that we must always have a heart ready to do something else – something that might throw our fears out into the light and challenge our stubborn resolve.

The flip side of my willingness has hit me like a bucket of cold water in the past couple days. Am I willing to release my stubbornness and face my fears about doing something else? Am I willing to say that all the closed doors for full-time employment mean an open door for more learning? Am I willing to say “God is big enough to be abundant” if I go back to school?

Some fear is not good. And this is that kind of fear for me.

I think I’ll pray for the kind of fear that ends up being worth wisdom. And then I’ll pray for the courage to do what that wisdom reveals.

“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom,” Proverbs 9:10

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

Posted on by Caroline 3

every day in May

Happy May Day!

Back in 2010, my sister accepted a challenge to do something she loved every single day for the month of May. The idea is not all that unique (type “every day in may” in Google and you’ll see what I mean), but she made it her own. She painted every single day for a month. Don’t worry – her house still had wall space at the end because she gave much of it away. She issued the same challenge to me and I accepted – in the form of writing. I wanted to stretch my creative muscles and try writing in ways I hadn’t tried before. That was in 2010. 

One of my writing prompts during that month also came from my sister, who asked me to write a creative interpretation of the boy with the fish and loaves that fed the five thousand. I loved the prompt and the process of writing, “the story of a boy and a satchel,” which was used during the Sunday morning youth services at my sister’s church.

This year, for the month of May, I’d like to challenge you to choose something to do every single day. Something you love, something you do well, and something that you wish you did more.
Can I add another something too? It must be something that will add to someone else’s life as well. When I first accepted the challenge, I was writing for myself. I love everything about writing, but when I wrote for my sister’s church it was bigger than my little love for my little craft.

I know, it’s a big commitment.
But big commitments take bold action and can produce serious amounts of joy.
I’m in. Are you?
If you are taking the challenge, put this image on your blog or facebook so others can follow the journey.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy
every day in May!

Posted on by Caroline 3

way more than sometimes

I’m so glad Paul admitted he never “made it.”

I mean, what a guy, right? He learned to be content in any circumstance – and he didn’t live a quiet life in the Midwest either. I mean, jail, shipwrecks, and undercover operations were just another day in the office for this man. Transformed from Christian killer to Christian by the power of Christ, Paul’s theological understanding came straight from the Lord. Forget commentaries, the man was God’s chosen tool to give us the bulk of the New Testament that we read today. An encouragement to churches spread across the known world at that time, Paul was very clear in a letter to the Philippians,

Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. (Philippians 3:12)

And I’m so glad he “never made it.” If he had, all my failures in all my petty circumstances would feel much more pitiful. As I try to match his efforts to “take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold” of me, I struggle with the pressing on.

His admonishment to the church that precipitated this assurance was,

Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith—that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.
(Philippians 3:8-11 ESV)

Really, Paul?
You think you can know God and the power of his resurrection? You’re willing to share in his sufferings and even die?
You are clearly better at this “Christian life” thing than I am.

And just when he knew they’d put that letter down in defeat – certain they’d never be able to attain that kind of faith –  Paul let them know he didn’t have it all together.

And, oh! Thank goodness for that.

I’ve been sorting through some things lately – pretty weighty things – and I’m aware that sometimes I’m driven by fear and that sometimes I promote myself and that sometimes I hide behind pride and that sometimes I am selfish.

Let’s be honest, it’s way more than sometimes. My failure doesn’t mean I’m not in the same race, pressing on with Paul toward the One who calls me, redeems me, and strengthens me to run for what will bring most joy.

 I can still
let LOVE fly like CrAzY
even when it seem like I’m not qualified

Posted on by Caroline 6