Receiving Correction

Whether I ever have my work published beyond the odd magazine article or two, I am a writer. 

In the core of my self there is a place always thinking of stories and writing poems and outlining topics I would teach. Words are always swirling around in my head.

A few mornings ago, when my husband and I were sitting together on the couch doing our coffee/wake-up thing, he came across this verse the other day in his Bible reading app:

Whoever heeds instruction is on the way to life, but whoever rejects a rebuke goes astray.

~Proverbs 10:17 (NRSV)

Since then that Proverb has been running around in my head in some sort of dance with all the other words in there. When I go to write something down, even if it’s my own private thoughts in a journal, there is usually at least a typo or two or a word scratched out. Even when the words come quickly and easily onto the page they don’t come perfectly. 

In the privacy of my home scratching out a word or idea doesn’t sting, it’s just part of the creative process, the hunt for words that mesh with the verbal picture I am trying to paint. A typo isn’t a reason for embarrassment, but a natural outcome of typing. In the privacy of my home I know I am not perfect, at least not on the first try.

I think of myself as a person eager to learn and grow as a person. Until someone other than myself or God points out my mistakes.

Why is this a problem? It’s not like there are not many who enjoy having their errors pointed out, I’m not alone in this.

Part of the problem is our culture. Out in the larger world there is a less friendly space to err. Typos on a blog are ridiculed. Scratched out words look like a mess. One mistake and you are labeled unredeemable.

But part of the problem is me. I don’t actively work to make it safe to correct me. 

I get defensive over typos and simple errors that do need correction. I’ve never been a great speller. It’s not like I can afford to pay an editor, I have five kids you know.

And while I am eager to learn, I am insecure at heart. I know many of my flaws but am afraid of having others point them out, even if it means I could work on them. I get scared of other people, afraid they will point out a part of myself that is a mess, someplace I've haven't yet begun to pull myself together.

Scared that maybe correction is rejection.

When Jesus walked the earth he talked to the people looking for wisdom about becoming like a child again. Jesus even went so far as to say we need to be born again.

What does that mean? For me, this day, it means I need to take a page from our youngest son. He’s never worried that if he trips and falls I will make fun of him. I know his feet or legs are growing and he’s constantly having to adjust for a changing body. There is no ridicule in our household for honest mistakes, there will be conversation and sometimes frustration, but not anger.

How does my son not walk around afraid of falling? He falls all the time. In fact he seems to relish his bruises.

Maybe it’s because my son also spends much of his day on or very near me. Maybe it’s because cuddled close after a fall he’s sure I love him.

When I’m far from God and I fall or someone corrects an honest mistake I act like a feral child. I snap at the hand that reaches out to help. In my fear I seek independence from everything and everyone.

When I sit on God’s lap, aware I am a child of God, when God’s arms are tight around me there is no room for the embrace of fear.

And I am better able to receive correction as I test out the world and falls as signs of growth.

He who is full loathes honey, but to the hungry even what is bitter tastes sweet.

~Proverbs 27:7 (NIV)

In my writing it’s easy to see this truth. When I’m hungry to learn and grow I push aside fear and submit my work to my peers to be critiqued. Typos don’t even register as something to be up in arms over. I want to grow. I want to make the best use of this gift I have been given.

This is my prayer for the week:

May I always be hungry for you, God. May I never be satisfied with fear and hiding. Grant me the courage to climb into Your lap. In Your loving-mercy, wrap Your arms around me. Fill me with an awareness of Your presence. 

I want to walk on the path of life.

Amen.

Embracing Unexpected Circumstances

Two weeks ago as I sat watching the rain out our front window I saw something unexpected.

Embracing unexpected things is both exhilarating and overwhelming to me. Depending on the circumstances.

My husband had made me a maple syrup latte that Sunday, one of the rare mornings he was home from traveling to Boston for work meetings. I was snuggled up with one of the kids thinking about my love for rainy days and what I might wear to church.

Overnight the weather had turned from our first stretch of really hot weather of the year to a steady downpour. And in the rain, on that Sunday morning, I saw a dog dart across the street into a neighbor’s yard.

It’s not terribly surprising to see a loose dog. I have returned a friend’s dog three times in as many months as she likes to run through the shock fence to roam. This dog didn’t look like any I had seen before.

I was sure my friend next door, a lady who has children near my age, would know to whom the dog belonged. In fact, she actually runs an informal dog sitting business for families in our neighborhood AND is on the board for our neighborhood association every year. The kind of lady who likes to go out to meet the mailwoman and, let’s say, catch up on the news.

In my pajamas I crouched in the rain by our front porch, whistled once and started calling, “Who’s that cute doggy over there? Who’s a great dog?” and other silliness. Until the dog crossed the street to draw nearer.

He was a soaking wet hound mix of some sort. Mostly white with brownish red freckles and muddy feet. And he was clearly starving.

I continued calling softly to him. My husband and youngest son came out with our dog and sat on the steps. The dog had no collar and was whining softly as he crept nearer.

I was worried about what to do with him that day. We still had to finish getting ready and go to church. We have five kids, including our son who is two years old. Animals, and people, who are afraid can be fear biters or fear aggressive. Would our family be safe?

After we got home from church I took a few pictures. Talked to my neighbor. Put out flyers on social media. Watched as my toddler tripped and fell on this starving scared dog, landing hard, and the dog turned his face to my son as my husband and I held our breath. And he licked my sons face.

There was no microchip identification, the vet told us the next day. The animal shelter was so full of strays they were putting dogs down. And I had a hard time imagining any animal living their life in a cage. After several days of my answering lost dog ads there was no one to claim him.

The dog wasn’t house trained. At all. He ate our trash. He ate some of the kid’s toys. He stole food off the counter. And off the kitchen table. And tried to take food off the kid's plates. He barked constantly at a neighbor dog. He knew no commands, not even, "Sit."

And he licked my sons face when he was starving and scared and hurt. Even weak he loved to play with our female dog. He would sit with his head on my knee, eyes half mast, as I pet his head.

Unless I’m winning the lottery, I don’t enjoy change that much. Oh, I like to rearrange my furniture every six months. I’m currently painting the kitchen a lighter shade of grey. But another dog is more work. And I’m tired.

My husband has been traveling a ton these last few months. We’re talking being gone at least 40% of the time. Leaving me to single parent our five kids. Our two year old decided dad being gone was a good reason to stop sleeping through the night. Last week when my husband was gone he woke seven times one night. Seven. S-e-v-e-n!

The change in work schedule changes my schedule. I had finally gotten into a great rhythm for balancing my work at home, caring for our children and writing. Yeah, that went out the window in like the first week. It felt overwhelming physically. Emotionally.

When I’m tired little noises bug me. Noises like talking to me. At all. Especially in the morning before coffee.

It’s not like constant travel is usual for my husband’s work, for which I’m grateful. I’m good at rolling with the little things, the little unexpected changes and stresses of days with kids. But change like that? Ugh.

In the midst of my husband being gone, after a particularly challenging night’s sleep, I felt a still small voice stirring in my heart. Could I consider this day, a day I was brutally tired, to be the best day of my life? Could I just, just decide right then; could I be determined that this would be my best day?

What a challenge. I didn’t feel up to it. It’s not like there was anything fun in the day to look forward to. Just cleaning, watching after my son, potty training, making lunch and dinner. I decided the best I could do was try to find good things in my day and be grateful.

I won’t lie and say it was the best day of my life. But it was a good day.

When my husband and I decided to start the adoption process for a teenager in foster care we didn’t decide to do so on a magically great day. We didn’t decide while well rested and having already passed every challenging moment in our lives with our five bio kids.

We decided much like I decided to go outside in my pajamas on a rainy Sunday. Just because I saw a stray dog. We heard about a need and asked ourselves, “Could I love one more person? Just one?”

I’m not a Super-Mom. I’m not especially noble. I’m so tired today I woke up nauseous.

But I am a question asker. A seeker. Can I love another dog? Can I love my children another day? Can I pray for a child on the cusp of adulthood? Can I open my heart and my life to a child who is starving for love? They might be a fear biter.

The unexpected is not often safe. Not for our lives or our hearts. But it can be the best day.

What can you do today to make it the best day? What steps can you take to be grateful?

3 Steps To Get Beyond Fear of the Future

Before my cancer diagnosis I would never have called myself a fearful person. But it has been at the back of my mind trying to ride me.

 

Deep inside we feel the certainty that fear and anxiety is not a state God intended us to live in. But how do you shake it?

There are clues hidden inside Proverb 31:25, “Clothed in strength and dignity, she laughs without fear of the future.”

Let’s take it apart. Here are 3 steps to help you get beyond fear of the future so you can live fully alive:

     1. Clothed In strength.

What does it mean to be clothed in strength?  Where do you find strength when you have none?

My strength doesn’t come from within me. In fact, there are times I don’t possess any strength at all. Lots of people would comment when I went through cancer treatment, especially with little kids. “You are so strong,” they’d say.

It wasn’t me.

My strength comes from knowing God loves me. God loves me more than my love for all my children put together. More than all the mothers in the world love their children. I can lean into God’s strength to get through the day when I have none.

If you don’t feel like God loves you, that’s okay. Tell him. God is big enough to handle your feelings. Even the ugly ones. Even fear and anxiety and anger. Even when you feel like God has betrayed you.  

Tell God how you feel. Make space for God to answer.

Jesus’ response might surprise you.

      2. Clothed In dignity.

      From where does our worth come? What does it mean to carry our dignity?

Colossians 3 took over as one of my favorite sections of the Bible recently. Verse 12 says, “God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved.”

My worth doesn’t come from my ability to get out of bed in the morning. My worth  

doesn’t come from what I do in day. Nor does it come from any super power I might 

possess.

My worth, my dignity comes as a gift because God gave it to me. God made me worth 

something. The God of the universe decided I was worth loving. No one can render 

Jesus’ words void.

Ask God to show you that he loves you.  

Struggling with depression once, I knew God existed but I didn’t think he loved me. So I asked Jesus to show me that he loved me. 

 All of a sudden I noticed the beautiful blues and purples that shaded the sky as it darkened into night. I felt a whisper in my soul, “I created this color because I know how much you love it.”

 Ask the Creator of the universe to show you he loves you. And he will.

 3. Laugh.

 You just can’t manage to be truly, deeply worried and belly laugh. Try it. I dare you.

When was the last time you laughed until the muscles in your face or side hurt? Sometimes we have to work harder to find joy. There’s a reason that it was called “a sacrifice of praise,” in the Old Testament part of the Bible.

Proverbs 17:22 says, “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a downcast spirit dries up the bones. 

If you find yourself in a season of life where it’s hard to lift up your spirit find help. A funny show. A comedy movie. Comedian Jeanne Robertson is clean humor. If you don’t mind a small bit of swearing I recommend the late John Pinnet. (The first time I saw him I laughed so hard I had to have my husband stop the video so I could breathe.)

When you find yourself fearing the future it’s time to go to Jesus who can help. Lift up your cares. List all the gifts in your life. Find your worth in what God says about you. Laugh.

What have you had recently to laugh about or find joy in?

5 Ways to Survive & Thrive During Lent

My Lenten Reflection

On my forehead yesterday at church I was marked.  “You are dust and to dust you will return,” was spoken. 

It’s about impossible to not have my thoughts return to traveling Lent with cancer.  (Lent is a period of time in the winter/spring before Easter.)  

Because 6 years ago today I found a lump breastfeeding my baby, Kate.  

 Here are 5 things I learned to survive & thrive during Lent:

5.  Take care of those you love

     What extra thing can you do this Lent to show those you love that you really do 

     care about them?  People love to hear about and do random acts of kindness, 

     and those are lovely. 

     But what deliberate act of love can you chose to show the love of Christ to 

     your family or friends?

4.  Take care of your body

     Your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit.  Consider as your Lenten penance a  

     shift in your perspective of your body more this way and act accordingly. 

     It’s one thing to give up an overindulgence.  It’s quite another thing entirely to 

     NOT take good care of yourself.  When was the last time you went to the  

     dentist/optometrist/had a physical?  Or took a quiet walk on a tree-lined street?

     What steps can you take to take care of the body you were entrusted with?

3.  Take care of your mind

     

     Has negative thinking crept into your mind?  Make a note and keep a tally of 
     every time you complain, even to yourself.  Do you mentally put yourself down? 

     Philippians chapter 4, verse 8 (the Bible) says we are to think of whatever is: 
     true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, gracious, excellent, or worthy of praise.   
     Why?  So that we are thinking of things that lift us up and give us joy. 

     What steps can you take to be transformed by renewing your mind?  Find a 
     positive saying or Bible verse to place where you will see it often.

     

2.  Take care of our soul

     

     When I was diagnosed with cancer during Lent 6 years ago pretty much I 
     didn’t do any self-care.  You know, those things we do that nurture our 
     own soul. 

     It’s a great thing to live an unselfish life.  But we can’t live entirely for others or 
     we have no life, no joy to continue to give. 

     If you have some major life change happening right now, don’t add anything 
     new to your spiritual or emotional to-do list. 

     Focus instead on: how can I live these next 40 days in the very best possible 
     way?  How can I find joy moment to moment?  How can I react well to my 
     changing situation? 

     Are there steps you can take to nurture your soul so you are in the best place 
     possible to respond to life and God’s calling?

     

1.  Take care of your heart

  

What is the general state of your emotions today?  That Lenten season 6 years ago I was a hot mess.  My emotions swung wildly but mostly in the negative direction.

It felt impossible to “let the peace of Christ control your heart” (Col 3:15 NAB).

 
     Looking back at those 
     moments where I did find peace 
     I realize a couple of things.  One is those peace-filled moments were preceded 
     by pouring out my fear, anxiety and grief out to God.  

     Only when I was empty could I be filled with peace.  I need a quiet place where 
     I know I have time and no interruptions before I can feel those deep emotions. 

     What steps can you take to empty your heart so it can be filled? 

    

       

What are your ideas for having a great Lenten season?