There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children. One of these is roots, the other, wings. –Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Used to be that if you found an interesting news article, you’d clip it out of the newspaper/magazine and store it in a safe place. Sometimes, if it was particularly moving or important, you’d haul yourself down to a Kinko’s or something and make copies. If one deemed it EXTRA pertinent, you might purchase a stamp and mail it to someone. In today’s “copy and paste” world, news nerds like myself are one click away from sharing various news links…or in my case, SAVING, interesting articles.
I have several dozens saved. I won’t give you an exact number…as it might be used against me as a measurement of my nerdiness. You can probably imagine that several of these saved articles fall into the faith and family categories. What can I say other than that I’m fairly predictable and in some regards, very old school. I tried sharing a SAVED article with my son recently…via a link in a text message…to which I received a sullen reply and an interesting emoticon followed by the words “you know, I’m not reading this.” Sure, I’ve been known to send him (and my daughter) preachy sorts of things, but in my defense this was actually a sports article and a good one at that. But my kids are too wise and know their mother too well…the warning lights start flashing, “SHE’S TRYING TO TELL US SOMETHING.” And, yes, they’re right.
Lately, my SAVED files have been focused on one subject–SUBSTANCE ABUSE. I have countless, tragic articles on teens dying as a result of drinking games, drunk driving accidents, and every type of drug overdose. It’s morbid, I know. Some of these news links have photos…sweet, smiling photos of adolescents who have become victims and horrible, graphic photos of teenagers lost too soon. These are the kinds of things that break my heart. In the sweet smiling photos I see my own babies…innocent and full of promise. In the horrible, graphic photos I feel my eyes well up with tears and my throat tighten at what I can only imagine is a mother’s worst nightmare.
The researcher in me keeps hitting the “save” button and then I pour over the article looking for what went wrong and scanning the account for early warning signs and prevention strategies. The mother bear in me keeps hitting the “save” button, vowing that I will protect my children from drugs and alcohol at all costs. The realist in me keeps hitting the “save” button knowing that these sorts of things are happening NOW, in our schools and in our community. I do these things all the while praying…for an angel to watch over my kiddos, for good role models and friends for them, and that I might be the kind of parent that can love them through anything. I do this because I am not naïve, families (like mine and like yours) have been hit over the head and completely broken by these sorts of tragedies. If my research has proven anything, it’s that no one is immune.
But the news nerd in me says, “Tell them, show them” as I compile my montage of anecdotes and news links about the dangers of alcohol and drug abuse. I play out in my head conversations about how to handle alcohol and what responsible drinking looks like and then, oftentimes following beer commercials (while watching sports on TV,) we talk about it. I remind the kids that alcoholism has taken the lives of family members. We talk about some of the science behind addiction. I quote my mantra (courtesy of the Saved by the Bell television show,) THERE’S NO HOPE WITH DOPE. (I have actually told my children that I would foot the bill for that tattoo!) I scrunch up my nose every time some one tries to convince me that recreational marijuana is a good idea…and then I talk about it with my kids. I tell them that while I worked as a reporter that I met a woman who was my age (22 at the time) and addicted to meth. She looked gaunt with leathery skin. She slurred her words because she had lost so many teeth as a result of her addiction. Her hair was falling out and she was in jail. I remember this so clearly because in talking with her we discovered that we had similar backgrounds…middle class upbringing, two parent household, grew up in a small town, etc. And yet our lives were so different. When I share these things, I’m bold enough to tell them, “This is NOT for YOU.” And then I pray some more.
So here’s what I want them to know….
- With one “hit,” they can drastically change their life.
- Drinking games are not games.
- Underage drinking and drug use is dumb (you’re destroying brain cells) and dangerous.
- Being “under the influence” of anything will cause you to make horrible decisions.
- Be on guard. Today strangers (and so-called friends) can put drugs/alcohol in your drinks and food.
- Bad guys will prey upon girls (and boys) who are under the influence.
- There will be photographs and I will find out.
And here’s what I also want to tell them….
- I love you. I will help you and care for you first…but that doesn’t mean there won’t be consequences or a lecture for bad choices.
- A bad day, date, break-up does not determine your worth. Don’t add to your heartache by throwing drugs and alcohol into the mix.
- Peer pressure sucks. I taught you to the difference between right and wrong. Be strong. It won’t be easy, but I believe it is in you to say “No,” in fact I’ve heard you say it a thousand times already.
- I’m going to ask you where you’re going and who you’re with. This is for both of us. It makes you accountable and helps me gauge just how much I should worry about you and whether or not I should just NOT let you go.
- And finally, don’t die doing something stupid!
I’m sick of people glamorizing drugs and alcohol…in music, television and social media. It turns my stomach to see celebrities practically endorsing this kind of lifestyle. It’s gut wrenching to see so many young people, full of hope and promise, end up broken or dead…and for what? I wish I didn’t have a SAVE list full of these horror stories, but I do. So listen up, kiddos, I will continue to tell you (and your friends) all about them. I will even share the photos. Know that I’m adding to my arsenal of articles everyday…because you are loved and I truly do have so much more to tell you.
Listen, my son, to your father’s instruction and do not forsake your mother’s teaching. Proverbs 1:8
The magic of Christmas is not in the presents, but in His presence. –Unknown
I’m just CRAZY about Christmas! I always have been. And somehow, I have managed to let both the secular and the sacred share space in my heart (with the tie going to the sacred, of course!) during this magical time of year. As a kid, I remember Christmas Eve worship and how I especially loved the nativity at my Mom’s house. I can recall that it was tucked away each year in its original box, every piece finding its place in the foam packaging. When my mother set it out…baby Jesus, Joseph, Mary and the gang all hung out in a miniature stable that my grandpa made. Examining each piece, I can still see the beautiful face of Mary and the baby Jesus…surrounded by hay…looking so heavenly and angelic. Both a baby and a Savior. The little set symbolizing an extraordinary and miraculous moment in time. Joseph looking so noble…the epitome of honor and faithfulness. There were farm animals, an angel, a shepherd boy, and the three wise men, of course. It was pretty wonderful.
So, it sort of surprises me that I never had a nativity of my own. Not when I went away to college, not when I took my first job in Arkansas, not when I moved to California, and not when I got married. In fact, I didn’t have a nativity until after my son, Sean, was a year old. It all happened in another magical moment at Hobby Lobby (seems that this store is the scene for many Spencer Family Christmas memories!)
After moving halfway across the country from California to Kansas, my mother-in-law, Sean and I found ourselves in the Hobby Lobby in Salina…for what I remember was a brief and snack-filled trip to do a little Christmas shopping (by the way, Cheez-Its make for great toddler payola…just saying!) Strolling through a craft warehouse with a 1 year old BOY is no easy task! So when it looked like Sean was going to leap out of the cart at any moment, Karen suggested that Sean help us pick out a nativity for our home. This was a genius idea because it gave my toddler a sense of purpose and I was just thrilled with the thought of having a nativity of my own. In record time, my excitement turned to worry as I remembered that something as fragile as a porcelain nativity probably wouldn’t last but a second in our house. Sean was just so hands-on about everything! In the back of my mind I had planned to buy him a Fisher Price Little People nativity set for Christmas. It was important to me that he understand the Christmas story…and at an age appropriate level. He already had a few Little People collections…the train set and the airport. Still, it couldn’t hurt to look at the nativities on display at the store.
It was pretty amazing…an entire aisle with nativities in every shape and size imaginable. My thoughts were racing…where would we put such a fragile item? Karen must have heard the wheels grinding in my head. After explaining my thoughts, she said, “Sean will pick out the one that he likes best…and we will teach him to care for it and look after it.” My heart was touched as I watched her talk with Sean about picking out a baby Jesus to take to his house. She reminded him that he would have to take extra special care of it! And asked him if he was ready to choose one. Sean beamed! From an early age, Sean could tell a story with his eyebrows (a talent he inherited from Grandma Karen.) One second the eyebrows would be arched high as he caught a glimpse of something intriguing. The next minute the eyebrows would be furrowed as he inspected his options. Sometimes just one eyebrow would lift as if he was thinking really hard. It was a wonderful little dance. When he finally picked one, all three of us knew this was the nativity for us. It was perfect. A chunky little wooden nativity…not too big and not too small. Sean touched each piece and seemed very delighted with the farm animals in this set. Since all the nativities were technically “on display” we found a store worker who immediately set out to find us a boxed set from the storage room. However, when she came back, she wasn’t carrying a box. Uh-oh. She explained that they hadn’t ordered many of this set and that they were sold out. She had also checked to see if getting one before Christmas was a possibility. It was not.
Karen is always cool as a cucumber in these sorts of situations. Clearly, THIS was the set that Sean wanted. She didn’t want to disappoint her grandson so she did what ANY grandmother would do. She asked if we could buy this very set. The store worker said that in any other situation she would love to sell it to us, except that this set had been GLUED to the foam board it rested upon. She pulled off one of the wise men to demonstrate. Stuck to his base was loads of navy blue paper and foam. Both Karen and the worker tried to pull it off. It was no easy task. Even if we pulled each piece from the board we would then have to pull off loads of paper scraps. The lady said that the pieces might not even stand correctly given the amount of glue left on the base. She obviously didn’t know who she was dealing with…Karen said she would work all that out later if we could just buy this nativity set. And so, it was settled.
Sean held the wise man in his hot little hands as we arranged the foam board and the glued down pieces across the shopping cart basket. There were quite a few stares, but we managed to check out and make it to the car. From the moment we got home Karen worked on releasing each character from the foam…carefully pulling off paper and glue. Her beautifully manicured nails probably got the raw end of the deal that day as she scraped and scraped. Each time she finished a piece she handed it to Sean. His eyebrows went to work again…doing their little dance as he checked out each one. He would show it to me and then go and show his Dad and then show me again. I think Sean had already had a bath and was tucked into bed before Karen had finished them all. It was truly a labor of love.
Sean played with the nativity all December long. Each day he would rearrange them and make sure the animals were “fed.” Since our set didn’t come in a box, we lovingly packed them away in an oversized shoe box after the holidays, unpacking them with great delight the next year and the year after that. Sean never seemed to tire of “playing” with the set. When Casey came along (and was old enough to follow her brother everywhere,) he explained the cast of characters to her. “This is baby Jesus…His mom’s name is Mary and His dad’s name is Joseph…,” and on down the line. These are the moments that live in a mother’s heart for eternity.
Today, the nativity makes its home in front of the fireplace each Christmas and it serves as the centerpiece of our Christmas Eve dinner table. I still love taking it out of the shoe box each and every year…a flood of memories spilling out with each “sticky” piece.
Love came down at Christmas,
Love all lovely, Love Divine,
Love was born at Christmas,
Star and Angels gave the sign.
It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas, everywhere you go…. –Meredith Willson
You know the Christmas trees you see at the store? The pretty ones that they put in the windows and on display for everyone to gawk at and fawn over. The perfect ones that force you to stop in your tracks and make your mind ponder (just for a moment) if perhaps you’re really ready for a “grown-up” tree. The kind of tree that screams I have style AND taste. Yeah, I’ve seen those trees, too….
Lately, I’ve seen a lot of them. Not just at the stores, but on Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest (the social media list goes on and on) and even in the homes of family members and friends. It seems to me that everyone has one of these beautifully accessorized trees. And this sort of thing stands out to me, not because I’m envious or jealous but more from a place of sheer admiration. You see, I LOVE Christmas trees…all kinds (and especially the Charlie Brown one,) but in my heart of hearts I always imagined that I, too, would have one of these special Christmas trees…a “magazine ready,” picture perfect tree.
My Mom has that kind of Christmas tree. I can remember the red apple tree, the blue and silver bulb tree, and the crystal snowflake tree, among others. I always assumed that would be my destiny–like mother, like daughter. In fact, I tried really hard to have one many moons ago. When I met my husband he had a Christmas tree in his living room…in May. Granted it was a mini TV top tree, but he had it on display for Memorial Day, I guess (oh, and a plush Thanksgiving turkey was placed next to it, too, probably to welcome the summer season.) I took this as a sign that he wasn’t much into decorating and eventually I filed it away as proof that I would be in charge of all holiday décor. So when we graduated from tiny, dorm apartment living and moved to a home in Salina, I figured this was my big break. I was going to do Christmas my way. I remember telling my Mom that I was going for a blue/white/silver snowman theme. She purchased ornaments to get me started and I began to gather all the “right” accessories as well. Our son, Sean, was just over a year old, and after photos with Santa one night, we came home to decorate the tree. And while I was strategizing and putting a final game plan together, Steve and Sean were already placing ornaments on the tree. What?
Turns out these ornaments were from Steve’s childhood along with a few others that his mother had passed down to us. (I’m still not sure where this box came from.) Sean looked thrilled as several of these ornaments were football related. And I remember stopping in my tracks and thinking that 49er red really didn’t go with my snowman theme…at all. Obviously, a “discussion” ensued. That Christmas the tree was properly adorned with blue/white/silver snowman themed items and EVERY ornament my husband had ever owned in his life. I figured I had lost the battle, but certainly not the war. There was always next year, and the year after that, and the one after that. The odds, however, were not in my favor.
Please don’t feel bad for me. It really wasn’t a make or break deal. I love Christmas and pretty much all things Christmas related. So we moved on and it wasn’t until Sean was in preschool that I finally got on board with the “all-things, everything” kind of Christmas tree. When that sweet-faced little boy brought me his first homemade ornament from school and proceeded to put it on the tree…well, my heart melted. He was so proud of himself. A little man contributing to a holiday that I loved so much. Sean would tell me in his tiny voice, “I made it for you.” So naturally every scribbled on, wadded up, half-glued, misshapen ornament made its way onto the tree–as it should. And when Casey came along, well her “contributions” went up right along side his.
As you can imagine, after more than a decade of “contributions” amassed from school AND church, we now have quite a collection going. Add to it EVERY ornament we have ever received from relatives, friends, plus our church family, and it amounts to 7 boxes of Christmas knickknack goodies. Every year the tree is quite full (this may be an important factor when you consider the number of times the tree has fallen over the years,) but I wouldn’t have it any other way. The Spencer Family Christmas tree is full of as many stories and memories as it is ornaments. This year the kids asked me if we really had to hang every last trinket from the boxes. I guess they thought that maybe the “bead ornament” (there really is no other name for it since it resembles absolutely NOTHING ever known to man) and the “paper Jesus candy cane” may have seen better days. “If there’s room on the tree, then there’s room for it,” was my constant reply. And while I think the “all-things, everything” kind of Christmas tree has roots in my husband’s Christmas tradition, he is the one who announces every year that “it looks like Christmas threw up in here!” At least he says it with a smile.
Our tree is still up (it’s New Year’s Day,) it’s leaning to the side as is its custom during the 12 Days of Christmas, and the ornaments are taking themselves down (with a mini thud!) The Christmas “spew” extends well beyond the tree to the fireplace mantel, hearth, the piano and into the dining room, and it will…for at least another week. Yes, it STILL looks like Christmas in here and everywhere we go…even if it’s the regurgitated type. Falalalala Lalalala!
I get obsessed with decorations and decorating the house. I keep it tasteful outside, but when you get inside it is a bit like Blackpool illuminations, I go BONKERS! –Johnny Vegas
Stay tuned for Christmas Trilogy, Part 3: The Sticky Nativity
Memories are timeless treasures of the heart. -Unknown
Sometimes I think that we open some of our very best Christmas presents long before the big day arrives. For me, there’s something special about unpacking all the Christmas décor, ornaments, and trinkets that I’ve collected through the years. Every December we lug the boxes upstairs and like little kids open each with a sense of excitement–kind of like running in to an old friend or finding something that was once lost. My kids (even as a tween and teen) exclaim, “Remember this!” Or they’ll question me, “Why did you save that?” and “How long has this been in the family?” One of the things that touches my heart most are the tales behind these treasured keepsakes which leads me to my favorite comment, “Tell me the story about this one!” Then I get to share the story behind baby ornaments, school crafts from days gone by, or the Hallmark Yoda figurine that adorns the tree every year. It was actually this ornament (and all the hub bub about the recently released Star Wars movie) that led me to write this post as I chronicle three of my favorite Spencer Family Christmas stories.
Let me begin with the FACT that my mother-in-law is far more popular than I could ever hope to be. I think even complete strangers would nominate her homecoming queen should we ever find ourselves in high school again (despite the fact that we graduated in different decades and states!) From hello, people just love her. Actually, you don’t even have to speak to her to like her…I’ve witnessed countless strangers ask her for directions, information, and just start chatting with her without any prompting whatsoever. She just has one of those faces that says, “Let’s be lifelong friends.” It’s a rare gift (my husband has the same one,) and I just can’t help but sit back and marvel. This sort of thing comes in handy when you shop at Hobby Lobby…or at least that’s what I’ve concluded whenever Karen is around. And Hobby Lobby is the scene for this Christmas memory.
My daughter Casey was just a little, bitty thing at the time…probably 3 or 4ish. She didn’t mind sitting in shopping carts especially if grandma was “driving.” While I can’t recall why we went into Hobby Lobby that day (although I don’t think one has to have a specific reason for going into Hobby Lobby because who doesn’t LOVE that store?) There we were in the fabric section when my mother-in-law spotted these cute, matching, mother/daughter gingerbread aprons. Displayed on mannequins for all to see, they were just perfect for Casey and I. Karen pointed them out to me…suggesting that we really needed to have THOSE Christmas aprons. I agreed, but didn’t think much of it because the Christmas apron pattern was situated in such a way as to suggest that you had to make the aprons yourself (this is a craft store after all.) I believe Karen’s response was, “Nonsense,” as she took them off the mannequin and put them in the cart. We continued our shopping and eventually landed at the check out.
I have to admit that it was pretty funny watching the cashier search the aprons for the price tag, but what was even better was the look on her face when Karen explained how she got the aprons. I imagine that it’s a pretty rare occurrence when someone takes a sample product off a mannequin and then proceeds to try to purchase it. The cashier explained that sample items are not for sale…they are SAMPLE items. Karen wasn’t deterred in the least. She asked the cashier to get someone from the fabric section to come to the check out stand so we could discuss the purchase of THOSE aprons further. I’m pretty sure at this point we were holding up the check out line, but still we waited. Finally, someone came up. She agreed with the cashier that the aprons were samples and not for sale which led to a conversation about what actually happens to the samples at Hobby Lobby when they are no longer needed. It was interesting…typically the items are returned to the person who made them, stowed away for display at a later date, or just given away to someone who works at the store. Karen reiterated that she would like to purchase them as a Christmas gift for me and my daughter…telling about her visit to Kansas from California, my love for baking, and Casey’s fondness for Rachael Ray (but that’s another blog.) Clearly, Karen had won over the woman from the sewing department and a few seconds later we were exchanging phone numbers and my mother-in-law had arranged for the store to call me (after Christmas) to pick up the aprons when they were no longer needed. They agreed the aprons could be purchased for $5 each and all I had to do was keep a hold of this little piece of paper until the pick up date arrived. SCORE!
In the back of my mind, I wondered if they would really call. I mean, Karen had already returned to California, no money had changed hands at that point, and the note from the store (scrawled on the back of a receipt) hardly seemed like a binding contract. Yet, there it was…a few days after Christmas…a message on the phone from Hobby Lobby saying that I could come and pick up the aprons from the sewing counter in the store. Well, Casey and I hot-footed it over there and sure enough, THOSE Christmas aprons were right there waiting. They were even cuter than I remembered and Casey was so excited! We proceeded to the check out full of smiles…and then….
The cashier (the same one from our previous visit to the store with Karen,) looked at the aprons and frowned. FROWNED. She looked at me said, “You can’t have these.” I was taken aback as she explained that she couldn’t possibly sell these aprons to me because the sweetest woman from California had come to the store before Christmas and she wanted to buy them for her granddaughter and daughter-in-law. She repeated the whole encounter to me and I couldn’t help but laugh…which threw her off a bit. I pulled out the little note and told her that I was with Karen that day. I wish I could have captured her smile! She was so delighted that we were going to have THOSE aprons after all! She said she remembered my mother-in-law very well and although she didn’t recognize me (surprise?) she didn’t think she had the heart to sell them to anybody else after meeting Karen that December day. Karen had used her “gift” to secure a truly, special gift for Casey and I.
Every year at Christmas time we pull THOSE aprons out–our cookie baking wouldn’t be the same without them! This year when Casey put hers on we realized just how tiny the apron really is. Casey is 10 now and while the apron still fits it’s clear to see that she’s not a preschooler any more, but that same sweet smile spreads across her face when she wears it. THOSE Christmas aprons have become a part of our family’s Christmas tradition and I love to tell the story.
It is in the kitchen where the warmth of shared memories, laughter and life create a recipe that spans the generations. -unknown
Stay tuned for Christmas Trilogy, Part 2: Deck the Halls with Christmas Spew, Falalalala Lalalala
For He satisfies the thirsty and fills the hungry with good things. Psalm 107:9
I like Cheerios. A lot. And not just at breakfast time. I think Cheerios are appropriate for lunch AND dinner, too. I should also note that I like them with AND without milk. So, if you are what you eat…then I’m heart healthy and packed with fiber and whole grain goodness! If only it were that easy. Truth is, in addition to my love for Cheerios, I really enjoy pizza, chocolate ice cream, nachos and several different brands of potato chips. I also think these tasty treats qualify as breakfast, lunch and/or dinner. Gross, huh? Because now it’s pretty obvious that if you are what you eat (Cheerios aside,) I am junk food—loaded with calories, packed with sodium and in every way possible just a cheesy, greasy mess 😦
I don’t want to be a cheesy, greasy mess. Who does? Which is why I’ve carefully chosen the middle of the road where these food cravings are concerned. It’s called MODERATION. We’ve all heard the word. It’s the term that foodies and nutritionists throw around which serves as code for “eat what you want, just not too much.” Have a small bowl of ice cream, instead of the whole gallon. Sounds like a good system. I mean MODERATION allows us to munch on the yummy (yet less than healthy) goodies we desire without any guilt and few consequences, right? Come on…you didn’t just land on the planet! You know that while moderation is all well and good, it can (and usually does) come back and bite us in our ever-expanding back ends. We are human after all…given to temptation and with little (if any) willpower. Watching what we feed our bodies is tough stuff. Health and nutrition can be hard to manage. Time, energy, and money all factor into the equation as well. Which is why I wish Willie Wonka would perfect that “3 Course Dinner Chewing Gum” Violet sampled in the movie. It would really come in handy at my house (sans the exploding blueberry part, of course.)
Clearly, there’s no easy button here. The same goes for what we feed our soul. It seems to be a recurring theme lately. Of course, I’m only speaking for myself, but it feels like everywhere I go that it’s not too hard to decipher one’s soul food diet. For example, the kid who is cussing up a storm at the baseball diamond is palling around with a tribe of kids cussing up the same storm. Never mind that there are three-year old ears in close proximity. Never mind there are grandparents in attendance. Never mind the fact that we all know your parents and you should know better! Somehow, somewhere this child has ingested ugly, nasty words and probably without any forethought, has decided to share them with the world. Look, I’m not the word police. Sure, I personally find it distasteful, but I understand that it is pretty common in today’s culture. That being said, I still would appreciate it if there was some consideration for the “audience.” Comedians, politicians, businessmen/women…most of us know that rule #1 in many parts of the real world is knowing your audience. Bottom line, if you’re going to swear, don’t share. Your friend is sitting right next to you and can easily hear you…so shouting your obscenities really isn’t necessary.
Still, the cussing is pretty benign. When you start adding up all the other foul soul food shares out there…like berating your kids in the store parking lot, trash talking your wife, glamorizing past and current drug use (in front of kiddos no less,) your disdain for the church and religion, your lack of confidence in political leaders, and your basic hate for anyone who doesn’t see life your way…the notion that you are what you eat becomes pretty clear. Listen, I’m not perfect. I know life can be hard. Maybe things haven’t been easy. Rough family life, a bad marriage, children who try your patience and the list goes on. There’s plenty of blame to go around. Often we try to excuse our own behavior by insisting that we don’t know any better or fault the way we were raised. But whether it’s nature or nurture (or a self-labeled “bad habit”) none of this lets any of us off the hook. We’re not all privy to the good life. Understood. But I think there’s an argument to made for the fact that we all WANT the GOOD LIFE. We want to be successful and happy, so let’s start making some personal decisions that breed success and happiness. Decisions that translate into being the absolute best that we can be! When it comes to good soul food, MODERATION doesn’t seem to amount to much. In fact, myself included, we need to be visiting that good soul food trough several times a day. I mean, would it really be terrible to try to attain a little positivity by feeding our soul a few good things?
Nosh on the POSITIVE. Live better, be better. Find kind neighbors. Be a kind neighbor. Show a genuine interest in your family and friends. Practice generosity. Pay it forward. Feast on GOOD news. Share your time and talents with others. Help a stranger. Say hello. Hug your children (often, or as often as they’ll let you.) Sing! Gorge on HOPE. Seek out good, honest friends. Be a good, honest friend. Affirm others. Believe in yourself. Be playful! Smile (a lot.) Be an example. Offer grace. REPEAT. With this menu you can go back for seconds and thirds–guilt free. I truly believe we are all capable of making good choices for ourselves and others.
This is the table that I want to sit at! And I want others to feel free to pull up a chair. Let’s invite our spouse, children, family members we get along with (and especially those we don’t) and our neighbors. Maybe we could all talk it over while enjoying Cheerios (with OR without milk.) Sounds good, doesn’t it? So…who’s hungry?
Food for the body is not enough. There must be food for the soul. Dorothy Day
But I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God. Acts 20:24
“Just because you go to seminary doesn’t mean you have to be a pastor.” I’m sure those words have been uttered by other seminarians (?) but the first time I heard these words they were coming out of the mouth of my husband. Although I knew he would become a Pastor, he wasn’t absolutely convinced at the time. Silly guy. Called is CALLED…am I right? Needless to say, all these many years later, we are a clergy family–growing spiritually and serving in ministry–and I am beyond grateful for this call upon ALL of our lives! It wasn’t something that I expected or even considered a possibility. In fact, you just might file this experience right up there with “things that make you go hmmmm….”
As a pastor’s wife I’ve seen a lot of stuff. Interesting stuff. Far too much to include here, but one of the things that always stops me dead in my tracks is the way people respond to this vocation. People (churchgoing and non-churchgoing) seem to have a preconceived notion about our life and us. My all-time favorite reaction to this calling occurred at a local restaurant a few years back on our anniversary. While waiting for a table we struck up a conversation (or should I say, Steve struck up a conversation…he’s the talker) with another couple. We were making small talk when the exchange drifted from “what brings you out tonight?” to “California wineries.” (Steve is from the San Francisco Bay Area and we lived there for a few years together early in our marriage.) This was a favorite vacation spot for our new friends and we compared notes about some of our best-loved places in the region. All was right in the world when suddenly the man asked my husband what he did for a living. (Insert screech sound effect here.) Let’s just say in a record amount of time we had gone from potential “besties” to complete zeroes. The guy actually turned away from us. I, of course, can’t help but chuckle when I recall the experience (yes, I have a strange sense of humor!)
Unfortunately, it’s not the first time we’ve seen this reaction. And, I’m okay with that. I only tell this story because time and time again I hear people comment that it must be “hard” to be a clergy family. They feel bad for our children because they wear the “PK” label. The general impression is that we operate outside of “ordinary” life. For some the word “clergy” is quickly linked with judgemental, hypocritical, strict and even boring. Hey, we’re all entitled to our own opinions! But for me, it’s just another addendum to that file I mentioned earlier–you know the one titled “things that make you go hmmmm….” So, I would like to state for the record that we’re just about as ordinary as people get. You don’t have to feel bad for us or think that we live this horrible, sheltered, recluse life. We actually laugh (a lot,) disagree occasionally, hang out at places outside of the church, and sometimes we even have interesting things to say (and it’s not always about church!) Being a clergy family really isn’t all that awful…in fact, it might actually be AWESOME. And that’s really what I wanted to share with you today.
So while every vocation comes with its own share of good and bad…ministry comes with an amazingly huge amount of AWESOME! Not just the parking-angels-smiled-on-me-today or I-found-an-extra-$20-in-my-pocket kind of awesome, but the kind of AWESOME that only God can provide. Working in a church and being a part of a community of believers comes with a lot of God-moments. These are the kind of things regularly lifted up as part of Sunday morning worship, in prayer chains and sprinkled in conversations all over the church. These are the incidents where the impossible becomes possible. The times where generosity and grace exude from every direction and you just know you’re in the midst of something amazing and special. And the greatest part is that these AWESOME moments are not confined to the walls of the church building. This is the part of our life that I wish I could just wrap up and share with everyone…because it’s not exclusive to clergy families. It is ready and available to everyone. God’s desire for creation is that we live with our eyes and hearts open to the AWESOME moments. Saying YES to Jesus is saying YES to life. Taking nothing for granted, grateful for the good things and seeking out the unexpected. This is what God can do!
Throughout Steve’s ministry we have been blessed time and time again. Please do not receive this sentence as boastful. I type it in the most humble manner possible. As a kid I remember feeling God’s presence and the comfort and security only He can offer. Today, as I’ve grown in my own faith, I feel God’s presence not only with the promise of comfort and security, but alongside the assurance of joy and hope! Our life isn’t easy. No life is easy. We all struggle, we all worry, we all fall short, but I am so glad that I never go through anything, good or bad, alone. NEVER. Outside of a loving relationship with our Creator and Savior, I think fellowship among believers is one of God’s greatest gifts to us. Have you seen the good that a church body can do? I can tell you that this kind of support and encouragement cannot be matched. When people say “church family” the key word is family! I cannot imagine life without these treasured friends and we’ve been privileged to be a part of many church families that remain near and dear to our hearts despite the miles.
So, what spurred this post? (Yes, I actually had a point when I started writing today!) Our family has recently been the recipient of something so kind and generous I cannot even begin to tell you how astonished we felt in receiving this gift. It came out of the blue and when we least expected it. It was an answer to a prayer that we might not have even fully realized yet. I would gladly share the details, but we received this gift anonymously and I believe in honoring the giver’s intention. However, I will tell you that this is the sort of thing that qualifies as amazingly AWESOME. We are a witness to God’s love through the hands of his followers. This is the “blessed to be a blessing,” that Steve talks about all the time. This sort of generosity is the kind of thing we practice and diligently try to teach our kids (they’re still learning, by the way.) And I am beyond grateful. Not just for this timely gift, but also for so many other things that God has placed in our lives. To Him belongs the glory. We do not understand, we cannot explain, we do not deserve God’s marvelous love and grace..and yet it’s my favorite thing to file under “things that make you go hmmmm….”
God is good all the time. And all the time…God is good.