Transformational Sweat

Since no one shot me down last week, I had planned to continue the mini-series on acceptable sins, thinking I would have the perfect post on either laziness or grumbling and complaining. It turns out, I have been strangely industrious and – miracle of all miracles – haven’t had any complaints yet!

This is Holy Week – slash - spring break for our teens, but instead of hanging out, sleeping in, and being lazy all week, we are helping some coworkers who are hosting a team from the U.S. Unlike the rugged teams we normally send to suffer in a remote mountain location, this group is staying in Puerto Escondido, overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

While most people would jump at the opportunity to serve in such a beautiful place, I had to struggle get my heart straight before agreeing to come. Going to the beach, as I’ve mentioned before, is not my favorite thing. It requires a nasty long drive down a winding road up and down from 5000 feet down to sea level. And then being hot and sweaty is something I generally avoid like manual labor.

Considering the prospect of being in a non-air conditioned kitchen preparing dinner for 22 people, I imagined writing about a whole slew of other besetting sins. It turns out, however, that I have found great delight in doing this. The work the rest of the team (including my husband and kids) do each day is much more grueling than my going to market, shopping, disinfecting produce, chopping, cooking, and cleaning up.

Turns out I have the best job around – plus I get to sneak in an afternoon swim (while I pray, of course) before they get back. Plus we will eat in restaurants a couple of the seven nights, making my work even lighter. It’s as though God, knowing what a wimp I am, tests me to see if I am willing, and then He carries my load.

So we’ll gladly skip the post I thought I would have to write, and just praise the Lord that His mercies are new every morning, and that His grace is sufficient for all our needs. You know what? Even sweating isn’t such an awful plight to be dreaded. Joy has been my constant daily companion. I am so thankful I didn’t allow my flesh to talk me out of this opportunity.

Meanwhile our friends in Mali are going through terribly unsettling times following the coup last week, having had to evacuate before the borders closed on Sunday. There are few situations as dreaded or stressful than to be forced out of a country on short notice. My heart goes out to each of you who were affected, and especially your children leaving behind friends, pets, and toys that didn’t make the cut when the bags were quickly packed.

Sweating over a hot stove and being a servant is a privilege. Even if it were a struggle for me, I would not want to trivialize it in light of these serious times for so many of you. I have spent time each day interceding, not just for this work team, but also for each of you in your current struggles.

No one said this life was going to be easy, but I feel for those of you who are sweating these days of uncertainty. May you find comfort and encouragement as we anticipate Resurrection Sunday, as we keep busy at our tasks of reaching the lost before the coming of the Lord.

IRL*It's a privilege to serve up what He offers.

Losing My Moxie

This whole blogging thing is catching up to me. After years of writing for a limited audience, presuming that friends who don’t comment don’t actually read my blogs, I’m gradually realizing that my words are permanently out in cyberspace for all to see, today, tomorrow, and maybe years down the road.

I think I’m losing my moxie. Maybe this makes no sense unless you are a blogger, but suddenly I am self-conscious. Not only that, but family and friends are starting to cringe when something happens, wondering how long before some family affair or mutual embarrassment hits the Internet.

In its infancy my writing was a private affair in my own room with no audience but Jesus and my journal. Now my writing has hit puberty. Hopefully that means someday I will be a real grownup writer. For now, though, I’m going through an awkward stage.

Did you ever go through this in junior high? I distinctly remember waking up one morning in the seventh grade having no clue how to walk. Honest to Pete, I had been walking since toddlerhood, but all of a sudden I couldn’t do it without looking dorky. Before a full-length mirror, I tried different ways of holding my head, swinging my arms, and trying to look natural.

As far as I know, I got it figured out eventually. Walking, I mean. At this point I’m doing the same process with my writing, looking in the mirror, and trying to figure out how to continue without compromising my family and friends’ privacy or unnecessarily exposing my own goofiness.

According to About.com, adolescents go through a phase of egocentrism that sounds strangely like what I am going through. Definition: The" imaginary audience" is a label for teens' and older tweens' belief that a group of followers exist who constantly watch and judge their every move. The belief arises from the larger concept of adolescent egocentrism. An egocentric adolescent believes that wherever he goes, everyone around him is as interested in him as he is in himself. He also believes his "audience" is continually commenting on his actions and appearance. It's like being a celebrity...except no one is actually watching.

Only I know for a fact that my e-maginary friends are watching and reading, though I usually suspect no one will be interested in what I write. I need to grow up and be bold in my writing when necessary while maintaining sensitivity to my readers and my loved ones.It’s a delicate balance for someone in the pimply stage of writing publicly.

For now I am taking a break for Christmas and New Year’s, enjoying some marriage and family time free of any writing goals or aspirations. Maybe I will hit a growth spurt during my break.We’ll see.

IRL* One thing I plan to do is spend more time reading your blogs that I have discovered on the WOTH Writer’s Blog. You inspire me!

The Teen Years: Comedy? Mystery? Or Terrifying Suspense Novel?

In a perfect world…

Fill in the blank. The past few days these words keep repeating themselves in my head, and I can’t decide if it’s an altogether healthy exercise to imagine such a place.

On the one hand, it’s always good to be reminded, as we said a couple of weeks ago, that this is not our home. On the other hand it’s disconcerting to realize that even among the body of Christ we are still so far from what we should be. Will the world ever know us by our love?

For the past thirteen years I have had the dubious distinction of being the mother of anywhere from one to four teens at a time. In June it went from three back down to two as my dd turned twenty. This month it goes back up to three as my youngest turns thirteen. Whoopee! (The finish line is in sight.)

Facing the teen years with the seventh is no less daunting than the first time around. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not one of those doom-and-gloom “just wait till you have a teenager” kind of moms. The truth is that I love, enjoy, and appreciate my children more at this stage than I did when they were so little and needy.

What makes parenting older kids challenging is that their struggles are bigger and deeper, and somehow more is at stake. As a mom, I see their unique gifts and personalities when others seemingly don’t. Nothing in life pains me quite like watching my children blunder through the social maze of a supposedly Christian circle.

Seeing how they apply the Word of God (or not) in each situation, holding my breath to see if they even attempt to respond in a Christ-like manner, I don’t know - the drama is like a comedy, a mystery, and a terrifying suspense novel all wrapped up in one. So far the older four have all made it through relatively unscathed, still loving their parents, each other, and God.

The jury is still out on the youngest three. Sadly this is the time they become acutely aware that this is anything but a perfect world.

As a mom, I know what they might expect. Nothing less than what Jesus experienced – people misunderstanding him, rejecting him, pretending to be friends while plotting against him, mocking him, and using him for their own benefit. At the same time teens have a villain whispering lies in their ears that they are not smart enough, attractive enough, or good enough.

At first glance, this may not seem like a unique dilemma to raising kids on the field, but the stakes are so much higher. We’ve seen several families who have had to go back to the States for the sake of their teenagers who were making poor decisions or who had been hurt in some way. None of us would be so foolish or bold as to say that could never happen to us.

It’s a scary place out there for our teens, spiritually and emotionally if not physically. It’s enough to keep me humbly on my knees and in the Word. Our MKs don’t have to be casualties in the battle we have waged with the enemy.

IRL* Let’s keep them covered in prayer, shall we?