Category: Life Insight

adventures in stairwells

One of the strange and beautiful things about human nature is the way grief and sorrow can live next to joy and laughter. I don’t mean to say things that grieve us also make us laugh. I don’t mean to say that at all.

What I mean is the way one can get into a helpless state of the giggles on the same day one feels helpless about the state of things in the world.

I say all this because yesterday was my first day to “have court.” This is what all my co-workers say when they go to the courthouse, so I say it now too. When we “have court” we sit behind the DHS worker and the child’s attorney, available for information about the case.

It all sounds really serious because it is. You would be shocked to know what children face. You probably don’t want to know any more than that – just that it’s devastating.

So, here I am driving around downtown Des Moines looking for public parking so that I can “have court.” I’ve had problems with parking garages before, but I wrongly assumed Des Moines would be an easier animal to wrestle. I found a parking garage in plenty of time, but when I slung my briefcase over my shoulder and flew down the stairwell I decided I should be in a hurry.

Coming out of the parking garage was like someone had spun me around and set me down facing a different direction (which is actually exactly what a parking garage does). I didn’t know which way was North and what historical building to walk toward.

So, I picked one and hoped it was the courthouse. I got close enough to see “POLK COUNTY” written on it but as I was walking up the steps, a lady taking a smoke break said, “You don’t look too happy to be coming here. But, hey at least it’s not the courthouse!”

Yeah.

So, I walked in one door and out the other where I promptly asked a parking meter officer to point me in the direction of the courthouse. She looked at me, smiled with all kinds of pity, and said, “Just walk up Court Avenue right there and you’ll run right into it.”

Right. Court Avenue, silly me.

So, I got to court with time to spare (thanks to my enormous cushion I operate with due to my Latin tendencies). Everything went well enough and when I left I felt good about things.

And then I met the sidewalk and realized retracing my steps would lead me in all kinds of circles. Everything looked familiar because I had passed all of downtown on my adventure to the courthouse.

So, I did what any new-to-downtown would do – I walked briskly in the direction of a hunch with my briefcase slung over my shoulder and my heels clicking professionally on the pavement. I saw that nice parking meter lady again and gave her the grandest smile.

And then I walked in every parking garage stairwell I came to until I found the one that was just right. I can’t be sure how many stairwells I walked up, but I kept the brisk pace so anyone around thought I was going someplace important. I finally found the stairwell I was searching for – one with no numbers, partially inside/partially outside, and with my little car Eddie waiting on the fourth or fifth floor (no numbers).

And so my adventures in stairwells gave a different kind of ending to my first court experience – proof that a helpless state of giggles can live inside the helpless state of the world.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy
Posted on by Caroline 2

flash flood prayers

Dear, Father
I just-
Lord, be with-
Oh, I just lift up-
There is so much-
Lord, you know-
There is just so much-
I don’t know-
Help me to-
God, please-
You are good.

This morning, my prayers got jumbled in a bunch of starts like water rushing a roadblock – just a massive surge leaving no time to consider convenient direction or map a course that makes sense.

Sometimes my soul wells up like that.
Sometimes my prayers swell in a most inconvenient and nonsensical way.
Sometimes my prayers sound like a flash flood.

And those times I rest in the knowledge that God hears my heart. God sees the needs I can’t express. God knew before the flash flood hit my morning news bulletin that the world needs Him.

He knows better than anyone knows the depth of that need.
God sent His Son to stand in the unfathomable depth of that need so now there is hope for flash flood mornings.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

Posted on by Caroline 0

threading the needle of His mending

I woke up feeling the ugliness. It slipped out my eyelids as I was doing laundry and felt like a freight train as I read my Advent devotional.

It was unnerving yesterday to see people jumping on platforms to make the tragedy in Sandy Hook political. This is a time for weeping and just that. Grief serves as a great reminder that the world is not broken because of systems or structures but because of people. The world is broken because people are not inherently good.

We are broken. We are wayward. We are disasters making disasters.

And so, this morning, when I read these words I remembered why it is important that we understand God’s law. When we look at His commands – at the weight and glory and perfection of them – we know what a mended world would look like.

Now the God of peace, who brought up from the dead the great Shepherd of the sheep through the blood of the eternal covenant [this is the purchase of the new covenant], even Jesus our Lord, equip you in every good thing to do His will, working in us that which is pleasing in His sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory forever and ever. Amen. Hebrews 13:20-21

The words “working in us that which is pleasing in his sight” describe what happens when God writes the law on our hearts in the new covenant. And the words “through Jesus Christ” describe Jesus as the Mediator of this glorious work of sovereign grace.

So the meaning of Christmas is not only that God replaces shadows with Reality, but also that he takes the reality and makes it real to his people. He writes it on our hearts. He does not lay his Christmas gift of salvation and transformation down for you to pick up in your own strength. He picks it up and puts in your heart and in your mind, and seals to you that you are a child of God. (Good News of Great Joy  Advent Devotional, day 15)

His law is true and pure and beautiful. He writes his ways on our hearts when we put down all our human efforts and pick up His finished work on the cross. Then we will obey His commands because we love Him more than what is broken.

In His power and strength, we will act the miracles He has written on our hearts – from one hard fought step to the next. We cannot legislate the mending of this world because the brokenness is deeper than our pens and papers.

The mending of this world must begin in our hearts – by believing that Christ was broken on our behalf, but that He did not stay broken.

When we believe there is only One with power enough to beat brokenness, He grants power that we might thread the needle of His mending.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy
Posted on by Caroline 1

scrambled

Over-easy, hard, benedict… scrambled.

If you asked me to describe my life right now in terms of cooked eggs (which of course you wouldn’t), I would say scrambled.

These days are like opening my eyes underwater and finding a thick, slimy mud. I’m muscling through the grime for clearer deeps, but there is a thickness trying to steal my hope. Cynicism is cheap in this business where skeptics are trained by years of disappointment.

Working with broken people means getting broken yourself.

The first line of this song sticks to me as I walk around broken, reaching out to broken, “Lay your righteousness on the table…”

It’s like sitting down for negotiation and emptying my pockets of every bit of pride trying to play the cards in my favor. I don’t know what The Gin House intended the song to mean, but it feels like the “fire is alive” is about hope.

After honesty and justice has wrung out all my vices, there is hope … and not in what I’ve flung on the table. There is hope outside of what I have to offer.

It’s that kind of hope that will hold when I pull with all my might.
It’s that kind of hope that is secure when everything is scrambled.

Posted on by Caroline 0

wise words about Christmas

When thoughts ring true years after they are spoken, they deserve a listen. I found this story via A Blog of Hope.

“Xmas and Christmas: A Lost Chapter from Herodotus,” by C.S. Lewis

And beyond this there lies in the ocean, turned towards the west and north, the island of Niatirb which Hecataeus indeed declares to be the same size and shape as Sicily, but it is larger, though in calling it triangular a man would not miss the mark. It is densely inhabited by men who wear clothes not very different from the other barbarians who occupy the north western parts of Europe though they do not agree with them in language. These islanders, surpassing all the men of whom we know in patience and endurance, use the following customs.

In the middle of winter when fogs and rains most abound they have a great festival which they callExmas and for fifty days they prepare for it in the fashion I shall describe. First of all, every citizen is obliged to send to each of his friends and relations a square piece of hard paper stamped with a picture, which in their speech is called an Exmas-card. But the pictures represent birds sitting on branches, or trees with a dark green prickly leaf, or else men in such garments as the Niatirbians believe that their ancestors wore two hundred years ago riding in coaches such as their ancestors used, or houses with snow on their roofs. And the Niatirbians are unwilling to say what these pictures have to do with the festival; guarding (as I suppose) some sacred mystery. And because all men must send these cards the marketplace is filled with the crowd of those buying them, so that there is great labour and weariness.

But having bought as many as they suppose to be sufficient, they return to their houses and find there the like cards which others have sent to them. And when they find cards from any to whom they also have sent cards, they throw them away and give thanks to the gods that this labour at least is over for another year. But when they find cards from any to whom they have not sent, then they beat their breasts and wail and utter curses against the sender; and, having sufficiently lamented their misfortune, they put on their boots again and go out into the fog and rain and buy a card for him also. And let this account suffice about Exmas-cards.

They also send gifts to one another, suffering the same things about the gifts as about the cards, or even worse. For every citizen has to guess the value of the gift which every friend will send to him so that he may send one of equal value, whether he can afford it or not. And they buy as gifts for one another such things as no man ever bought for himself. For the sellers, understanding the custom, put forth all kinds of trumpery, and whatever, being useless and ridiculous, they have been unable to sell throughout the year they now sell as an Exmas gift. And though the Niatirbians profess themselves to lack sufficient necessary things, such as metal, leather, wood and paper, yet an incredible quantity of these things is wasted every year, being made into the gifts.

But during these fifty days the oldest, poorest, and most miserable of the citizens put on false beards and red robes and walk about the market-place; being disguised (in my opinion) as Cronos. And the sellers of gifts no less than the purchaser’s become pale and weary, because of the crowds and the fog, so that any man who came into a Niatirbian city at this season would think some great public calamity had fallen on Niatirb. This fifty days of preparation is called in their barbarian speech the Exmas Rush.

But when the day of the festival comes, then most of the citizens, being exhausted with the Rush, lie in bed till noon. But in the evening they eat five times as much supper as on other days and, crowning themselves with crowns of paper, they become intoxicated. And on the day after Exmas they are very grave, being internally disordered by the supper and the drinking and reckoning how much they have spent on gifts and on the wine. For wine is so dear among the Niatirbians that a man must swallow the worth of a talent before he is well intoxicated.

Such, then, are their customs about the Exmas. But the few among the Niatirbians have also a festival, separate and to themselves, called Crissmas, which is on the same day as Exmas. And those who keep Crissmas, doing the opposite to the majority of the Niatirbians, rise early on that day with shining faces and go before sunrise to certain temples where they partake of a sacred feast. And in most of the temples they set out images of a fair woman with a new-born Child on her knees and certain animals and shepherds adoring the Child. (The reason of these images is given in a certain sacred story which I know but do not repeat.)

But I myself conversed with a priest in one of these temples and asked him why they kept Crissmas on the same day as Exmas; for it appeared to me inconvenient. But the priest replied, “It is not lawful, O stranger, for us to change the date of Chrissmas, but would that Zeus would put it into the minds of the Niatirbians to keep Exmas at some other time or not to keep it at all. For Exmas and the Rush distract the minds even of the few from sacred things. And we indeed are glad that men should make merry at Crissmas; but in Exmas there is no merriment left.” And when I asked him why they endured the Rush, he replied, “It is, O Stranger, a racket”; using (as I suppose) the words of some oracle and speaking unintelligibly to me (for a racket is an instrument which the barbarians use in a game called tennis).

But what Hecataeus says, that Exmas and Crissmas are the same, is not credible. For first, the pictures which are stamped on the Exmas-cards have nothing to do with the sacred story which the priests tell about Crissmas. And secondly, the most part of the Niatirbians, not believing the religion of the few, nevertheless send the gifts and cards and participate in the Rush and drink, wearing paper caps. But it is not likely that men, even being barbarians, should suffer so many and great things in honour of a god they do not believe in. And now, enough about Niatirb.

 

Posted on by Caroline 0

sparkling, healing, light

“Gather ‘round that fire this Advent season. It is warm. It is sparkling with colors of grace. It is healing for a thousand hurts. It is light for dark nights.” – Good News of Great Joy, p. 2

These words wrapped up the first reading from the Advent eBook, Good News of Great Joy that Emma and I read during our dream session last night. The reflection redirected the night’s agenda and sent me to spinning with delight.

sparkling with colors of grace

What an altogether perfect description of this season. Even without the shimmery snowfall, we anticipate a love that illuminated the sky 2000 years ago. The very heavens shone with the news of a Savior and with that news came the shining splendor of our gracious pardon. I love thinking that grace has many colors – even an inexhaustible amount. So that just when I think I’ve pushed the limit, God takes my hand and leads me to a new sparkly, colorful display.

And Jesus was born.

healing for a thousand hurts

Oh, goodness the hurts that need healed. It’s too much – no one solution could possibly bear the weight of the need. And then Jesus was born; the only man who could possibly bear the weight of the need of humankind.

We are clearly broken and bruised. No one can dispute that fact. With wars waging and empires crumbling; with children starving and parents abandoning; with greed overtaking and apathy ruining – we are hurting and our hurt needs healing.

And Jesus was born.

light for dark nights

Sometimes, a dark night stretches so long it feels like it’s swallowed up the morning. The darkness is a blanket like despair that wraps itself around your collar and hugs your sides tight. Darkness tries with all it’s might to squeeze out any flicker of hope.

Maybe that’s why God painted the stars – to remind us that those darkest, most dreary nights stretching like eternity are not eternity. Those determined pin pricks of blazing fire on the sky’s black canvas remind us that we have hope.

Jesus was born and those very stars told of His arrival.

do not fear

Do you know what it feels like to push against fear? To physically march up to fear like you would a military fortress and then push against it as though you believe it will move? Yesterday, during the sermon on generosity, we read Jesus’s words recorded in Luke 12,

And he said to his disciples, “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat, nor about your body, what you will put on. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing.

Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? If then you are not able to do as small a thing as that, why are you anxious about the rest? Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

But if God so clothes the grass, which is alive in the field today, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith! And do not seek what you are to eat and what you are to drink, nor be worried. For all the nations of the world seek after these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, seek his kingdom, and these things will be added to you.
“Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give to the needy. Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.
(Luke 12:22-34 ESV)

Fear not, you little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.

Pushing against that fortress doesn’t feel so silly when we are oriented to eternity. We push against the immovable wall knowing God can move it. Though we are hurting sinners – in need of grace and caught in dark nights – we are commanded to not fear.

As God calls us into places swarming with wolves, He reminds us, “I sent my Son. I am always victorious. You have absolutely nothing to fear.”

This is the sparkling, healing, light of Christmas: Christ.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

Posted on by Caroline 0

keeping the main thing the main thing

Does anyone else (you can admit it silently – I won’t tell) have a hard time keeping the main thing the main thing when it comes to the holidays? That’s a phrase my childhood pastor would use: “keep the main thing the main thing” – and it’s a phrase that reclaims what should be simple about our faith: Christ.

Christ is always central, always best, and always worthy of celebration. Always. Our celebration is not confined to seasons, but there is a special place for greater focus and greater reflection. Christmas is such a season and one in danger of being overshadowed by family plans, casseroles, stressful travel arrangements, Aunt Georgia’s dinner table conversation, and last minute purchases. 

Friends, today I am going to issue a bit of a challenge: don’t give in.

When Satan tries to steal today by overwhelming you with earthly expectations and burnt pumpkin pies, respond by treasuring Christ. If your family gets caught up in tradition and the schedule gets as overstuffed as the turkey, respond by treasuring Christ.

Let’s treasure Christ in our traditions and hold everything else loosely. 

Whether you are the one cooking the turkey or the one in charge of setting up the Christmas tree, this message by Noel Piper reminds us that traditions are Scriptural and so are holidays. Remember how beautifully the Israelites carried out their festivals and feasts? The Lord blessed those gatherings as special times set apart to rejoice with community and remember His provision for them.

As you are washing dishes or picking up the house or setting out that wooden block nativity set your grandpa made, think about ways you might treasure tradition instead of Christ. If you are struggling to keep Christ in the center, consider doing this (free) Advent Devotional. 

And, just so you know – you are not exempt from this encouragement if you do not have children. God has uniquely designed and equipped the Body of Christ so that we can create traditions together that treasure Him. Together we establish routines of praise where everyone has a part – widows, young families, singles, grown families, couples – there is a seat at the abundant table of tradition for everyone in God’s family to celebrate His mercies!

I do not own a home that requires rearranging nor do I have children to scold if they upset the cookie sprinkles… but I do have a responsibility as a member of the Body of Christ to step into the Christmas celebration with Christ as my greatest treasure and greatest tradition.

It is my hope that as a guest, daughter, sister, aunt, and friend I will be ready to make the main thing my favorite thing to celebrate.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

Posted on by Caroline 2

pensive doubting fearful heart

Have you ever met a dead man who knows you?

Well, John Newton and I haven’t exactly met. I guess I should be clear: we haven’t met at all. But he couldn’t have started out a hymn with a more appropriate assessment of my heart. Sometimes, I excuse my pensive, doubting, fearful heart condition by calling it humility or wisdom or an attempt at being “gentle as a dove.”

Maybe sometimes it is true that I am those things, but I know for certain I make more excuses than my heart deserves. As I am being transformed from one little degree of glory to the next, my heart sometimes stumbles over thought and doubt and fear. I get anxious and make human calculations, which nearly always add up to paralyzing human fear.

The combination of vulnerable words (pensive, doubting, fearful) is tricky because each serves a purpose in making us more like Christ. Our best thoughts and greatest questions and deepest fears are all satisfied in Him, but the result is the opposite of paralysis. The result is freedom.

Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.

(2 Corinthians 3:17-18 ESV)

Today, my pensive, doubting, fearful heart is dancing from one degree of glory to the next, swaying to this song.

Posted on by Caroline 2

not ashamed to blush, but I will not boast

As a 28-year-old, it feels childish to hide my face in a movie theatre during a bedroom scene. Sometimes, the devil on my shoulder says, “You are an adult – pull yourself together!” Shortly after, my mind jumps to an image of my mom (who could never find the remote) running in front of the ancient TV in our living room with arms flailing and singing, “Lalalalalalalala” to cover the sounds of a married couple walking towards the bedroom in “Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman.”

You can imagine my horror when I went away to college and realized the extent to which I’d been “sheltered.” I bet my friends thought I had a skin condition that caused a permanent rose tint to my cheeks. It was a strange thing to struggle through – trying to understand if there would be a time to grow out of my childish ways and into a more “experienced” phase of my life where I was more comfortable with sensuality.

The struggle was complex because my innocence got entangled with pride. Innocence, of course, is a beautiful thing but pride is not. Pride is sin. When my face burned guilty red around brazen sexuality I wasn’t used to, my soul had to figure out how to feel about it all. The prick of conscience punctures deep and holding in a response is simply not an option.

I swallowed hard and covered my ears or pulled a blanket over my head. Sometimes I cried. But often my heart chose to be proud about my “innocence” – about my mom running in front of the TV and about my being excused from 8th grade Sex Education class at school and about not knowing anything when it came to third base. I chose to be proud because having cheeks that burned felt… well, right.

(Sigh)

I’ve lived a lot of life since then. Turns out, my ears still burn and my cheeks still flare up when I’m in a movie theatre and a sensual scene plays out. I fidget uncomfortably and turn away and shield my eyes and pray for it to not remain in my memory. But, now I have a more humble view of blushing. My tender conscience is not something I can take pride in, but it is something I must try to preserve. Though I don’t claim to know what causes others to stumble, my red cheeks are sometimes a sign that my heart is getting pulled away from “whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things.” (Philippians 4:8)

We’ve really done an unfortunate thing in making sensuality something that females grow into – we can watch certain things or hear certain things or do certain things when we are “mature enough” to handle it. This kind of thinking sets up a threshold that the world is constantly pushing to a younger and younger crowd. The real deciding line for “mature enough” is sometimes never.

God’s desire for our hearts and eyes and lips and minds is to experience the most satisfaction in this life and this will only ever come about as He protects us in our pursuit of holiness.

I am now not ashamed to blush, but I will not boast that I’ve created the conscience that reveals sin. As God humbles my heart and draws me into a pursuit of holiness, I know He is the cause of my conviction and must also be the goal of my turning from evil.

Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. 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.
Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly. Never be wise in your own sight. Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” To the contrary, “if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

(Romans 12:9-21 ESV)

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

Posted on by Caroline 3

the opposite of mid-life crisis

Some couples graduate into their 50s and revert back to their adolescence. Isn’t that what a mid-life crisis is? You know, extravagant spending and adventures because it’s “all about me” and I’ve got to a have a cultural norm to explain it?

Vomit car exhibit two

I know, I know.
I can’t possibly empathize because I’m in my late 20s and I don’t understand how practical and mission-minded expensive motorcycles are. But, I have a reason to pick this middle life bone. My parents are having the opposite experience. They would never tell you that, so I’m going to.

My parents have hearts the size of Texas and they are constantly looking for ways to grow them even bigger. Recently, my mom sent me a text that said, “What would you think of us fostering two freshmen girls?”

She had to expect my response would be, “Yessssss! Of course!” I mean, as a sophomore in college I sent my parents pictures of children who were awaiting adoption in the state of Iowa. Clearly I would be in favor of the idea, but I’m always in favor of dramatic life changes if they are in the direction of ministering with the gifts you’ve been given.

Then I talked to my dad. He was counting the cost – thinking about how his house would change and family gatherings would be different. He was thinking about curfews and possibly inviting two people to be part of our family forever. He was considering his role as protector for my mom who has spent herself in giving to others. He was counting the cost and it made me consider the magnitude of the life-altering adjustment.

I heard my dad’s prayer requests for unselfishness. I heard my mom’s prayer requests for these girls to have a future. I heard both of them ask for hearts enlarged to fit God’s purpose for them at this stage in their lives and I’m humbled.

My parents will never tell you they’ve got it figured out, because they don’t. Their lives are evidence of their humble posture toward what God is calling them into next. I count it truly a privilege to learn how to love my Lord better alongside parents who are doing the same. This might be the best lesson they are teaching me.

The opposite of a mid-life crisis is getting intentional about serving others to the point where it hurts… it means adjusting your life in a way that’s painful so that others might benefit. There’s never a stage in life where you arrive and can say, “At last! Comfort and relaxation and vacation.” That is not a life stage in God’s development plan for your holiness. It just isn’t.

The beauty is that the pursuit of holiness – the forever life stage – is also the most rewarding and satisfying way you can choose to spend your days. That’s not my guarantee, either.

“In His presence is fullness of joy and pleasure forevermore.” Psalm 16:11

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

Posted on by Caroline 6