Posts Tagged faith

I Am They

There’s a common pastor’s wife line about our roles at church. It goes something like this:

My role in the church is that of a Christian and a church member. I do the things here that I would at any church I attend if I wasn’t married to a pastor.

Another popular phrase is regarding priorities:

My priorities are first to God, then to supporting my husband and nurturing our children, and then to serving the church.

But there’s also something else we tend to say. And it sounds like this:

Our people aren’t volunteering enough. We need more people to step up and not make excuses for why they don’t have time to serve.

 

I recently realized how frequently I say the third statement, and the terrible attitude it showed in me.

How can I claim to be in the same boat as other church members, yet refer to them as “they”? How can I see a need in my church, wonder how it will be met, and never once consider that I may be the one called to do it?

I realized that my list of reasons why I couldn’t serve in a particular place were no different than those of everyone else. “I have 2 kids of my own and another on the way.” “I just don’t have the time right now; maybe in a couple years.” “I’m already serving here and here.” And my personal favorite excuse: “If I volunteer, I’ll get taken advantage of and get stuck there forever.”

But if I am a part of “them” like I claim to be, then I need to be just as willing to serve where I’m needed as “they” should be, even if it’s a little outside my comfort zone.

So “I am They”. Kind of a new realization, one I’m still working through, and the above paragraphs probably didn’t make a bit of sense, so I’m not sure exactly how to end this post.

End.

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The One about Santa

“Birthday is about Xander. Christmas is about Jesus.”

This is what my 3.5 year old has been saying for the last few days. I thought we were ready for December… and then we went to preschool today.

I may have overslept a bit this morning, so by the time I took Xander in they were already at the morning assembly. And singing Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.

Cue a morning full of fretting. Until today, my son knew the bearded man in a red suit as The Christmas Monster. I just knew that when I picked him up from school, Xander would know the man’s name. And he did. He even told me all about the chimney. It was easy enough to fix. “Santa is just pretend. He doesn’t give you presents. He isn’t real. Christmas is about Jesus.”

I talked with his teacher, who showed me her lesson plans for the month and let me choose what Xander was exempt from (which really wasn’t much; he can sing and craft all day long but he’s not writing a letter to Santa). No big deal, and we’re back in business.

But a tweet about the situation it set off some replies. So here, in paragraph form, is my response to the usual criticism. Note that these are my personal convictions about how to raise my family.

 

There’s nothing wrong with Santa.

An omnipresent, omniscient being who weighs your good deeds against your bad deeds and rewards you accordingly?

First of all, there is only One who is all-knowing and that is God.

Secondly, and this is nitpicky I know, but aren’t we setting up a works-based theology with that?

 

You can’t shield your kids forever.

I know that, and I’ve never attempted to do so.

I think that phrase, when applied to anything parents attempt to keep their children from being corrupted too soon, is one of the worst things to say to someone who is only trying to do the right thing. We are calling a person who is striving for moderation an extremist. We’re saying, “I gave up, and you should too.”

Of course I can’t keep Xander from ever seeing Santa, Frosty, or Rudolph. I can’t keep him from learning the songs or watching the movies – I’m fully aware that it will happen either at school or at a friend’s house.

But what I can do is keep it away from my home and out of my family’s tradition. What is so extreme about that?

My goal is simple: To remove the secular elements from religious holidays and, when possible (see: not cheesy) to add a Christian element to secular holidays.

I see our not observing Santa as just the first of many “other families do that, but we don’t” parenting moments.

 

You Can Do Both

I disagree.

“I explain what the true meaning of Christmas is, but we also do Santa because it’s fun.”

“I explain to my kids why it’s important to eat healthy, but I buy them lots of junk food because it tastes good.”

What’s the difference?

 

Your kids will resent you.

In our home, Santa doesn’t fulfill your list of wants, wrap them up, and leave a large and glorious pile under the tree.

In our home, your mother and father take the time to consider your personality, your interests, and your maturity. Then together they choose one, and I repeat, one gift to give to you as we all celebrate the birth of Jesus.

Birthdays are about our children and giving them a party, a cake, and a pile of presents in celebration of their life. Christmas is not.

The truth is this: At a certain age, whether you give you kids a few gifs or a lot of gifts, they will want more. We all remember that feeling of thinking our parents didn’t care about us enough to get us what we really wanted. And then we got older and it passed.

I’m not worried about resentment.

 

Well, what do you do?

We have done this for the past two years, but now that he’s old enough, we’re talking to Xander about it:

Our goal is to have Xander give and do far more than he receives. And I’m being very deliberate about it. After shopping together, I let Xander pack our Operation Christmas Child boxes. This week Xander is fulfilling the list of a little girl his age who is currently living in a group home. If there are other children in need of sponsoring after we are done, we will add another.

Last year, anytime a bell was ringing outside a store, Xander would insist that we put money inside. This year, he has a wallet full of change that he carries in his pocket anytime we go shopping, ready to give.

He is hand-making a gift or letter for his family members and friends.

He is memorizing Luke 2:8-14. No joke.

Our kids get one gift from us. The words “big” and “small”, “expensive” and “cheap” have nothing to do with it. Two years ago, we got Xander a workbench that still gets played with weekly, if not daily. Last year he received a four-wheeler that he loves and takes very good care of.

 

I don’t want my children’s favorite memories of Christmas as a child to be the rush of opening gifts, or the fun of made-up characters. I don’t even want their memories to be of Wintertime Togetherness.

I hope that, by God’s guidance, we can pass on to our children the legacy that their grandparents began – that Christmas is a time of worshipping God, especially through serving others.

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How Are You?

I’ve been making more of an effort to teach Xander to speak Yoruba lately. I hate that I’ve waited this long to do focused Yoruba teaching, but I spent most of his time as a 2 year old waiting for him to start speaking, period. Now that we’re starting to catch up verbally, I’m adding the second language.

My current method is to translate a few common nouns, verbs, and phrases throughout the day, like please, thank you, and the ever-popular Don’t do that anymore. I say it in English then immediately translate. And I try to spend an hour each day speaking only Yoruba to the kids. That one is more for my benefit than for theirs, because in Arkansas I don’t hear Yoruba anymore. Rob tells me I’ve stopped speaking it when I talk in my sleep, which tells me I’m losing the language.

Anyway, Xander and I were talking to my mother on the phone this afternoon and she asked him the Yoruba equivalent of “How are you?” – “Se alafia ni?”  He had never heard that one before, so after we hung up I taught Xander the polite response. Not “fine”, but “A dupe.

(Aside: I left Nigeria at age 6 so I am, embarrassingly, functionally illiterate in Yoruba. I don’t bother adding accent marks when I write because 7 times out of 10 they’re wrong.)

I was about to translate a dupe for Xander and then I realized I couldn’t. Not that I didn’t know what it meant, but that the meaning of it is way above the mind of a 3 year old. I’ll explain:

Literally translated, Se alafia ni? means “Is everything at peace?” or loosely, “Is everything okay?”
A dupe is literally, “We give thanks.”

It’s not an answer to the question that was asked, but it’s the right answer. A dupe a picture of 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18.

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

In my life, I want to strive for the Yoruba attitude of a dupe : Giving thanks, regardless of circumstance.

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Big Bottom or: How I Learned to Stop Complaining and Love the Bass

Yes, I mixed two completely different allusions in the post title. Deal with it.

 

Rob and I like to joke that I have the spiritual gift of filling in.

The truth is that I suffer from musical ADHD and don’t like to play just one instrument. (plus there’s that whole psychological thing with my unwillingness to put in the work necessary to improve when I pass the threshold of natural talent and how I will therefore move on to another new thing until the aforementioned threshold is once again reached…and then there’s that part of me that begs and pleads and hungers for compliments no matter how humble I try to act… but we won’t go into that…)

Our church orchestra being the size it is, I usually have some freedom with what I play, if I play at all. But for the last year and a half, a majority of my Sunday mornings have been spent on the electric bass.

Each Saturday when Rob would say, “I’m going to need you on bass tomorrow,” I would put on a smile and reply, “Sure.” But on the inside? This was happening. The bass is boring; nobody ever remembers the bassist’s name. I’d rather be playing the flute or the electric guitar, but I was needed in a place where I did not want to serve. I was not enjoying myself on Sunday mornings.

And then my husband gave me a challenge to work on. A challenge where I had to spend two days of my afternoon naptimes working with a metronome. A challenge that forced me to fix my technique. A challenge that translated into me becoming more creative with all my bass parts.

And the strangest thing happened: I actually started liking the bass. When listening to music, I now listen for the bass line to try and find practical applications. The bass is harmonic and rhythmic and melodic, and it’s been so much fun to learn how to handle all three roles at once.

God has taught me an important lesson about myself. For years, I’ve claimed to love to serve “anywhere” on the worship team, but my attitude about the bass showed that I actually just loved to serve in fun, high profile places. If there were no challenging sections or solos in the music, I wasn’t interested. That’s not right.

Why should it matter if I’m playing the boring instrument where no one will remember my name? It’s a Sunday morning; only one name matters.

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Creation Science

XANDER: God created the heavens and the earth. Genesis 1:1:1:1:1

ME: That’s right, Xander! Good job!

XANDER: God made the sky.

ME: Yes, He did.

XANDER: God made the trees.

ME: Yes, He did.

XANDER: (looks up) God made the popcorn on the ceiling.

ME: Well, God made the person who invented popcorn ceilings and he gave him the mind to have the idea.

XANDER:

ME: God made the popcorn on the ceiling.

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Get the Wood Out

Remember this post?

Every once in a while (translation: once a year) my husband preaches. This past Sunday Rob used what happened that day to illustrate James 1:2-12. I thought I’d share.

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No Worries

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        -Matthew 6:25 & 27

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Easter 2011 (Part 3)

We had a wonderful morning celebrating the Resurrection at East Side. The sanctuary was packed, and the worship time was great. Rob lined up three choir specials; they were not easy songs, but everyone nailed it! End of the Beginning, Blessed Redeemer, and Unto the Lamb were incredible.

Our pastor gave a straight-up Gospel presentation as his sermon. I pray that I will never grow tired of hearing it preached, thinking I’m too “advanced” to hear it.

About the airplanes: They were in Xander’s Easter basket so I let him take them with him. They had to stay in the car during church, but they were the only was he was going to sit (somewhat) still during family pictures.

Some pictures…

 

Heading to church in the morning:

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Family pictures after the service:

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Arya stole her brother’s glasses:

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You call it a sanctuary. Xander calls it a runway.

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My new favorite picture of him:

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I dress Xander and Arya up every Sunday. Not just a polo shirt, but a button-up and tie. Xander’s tie collection is at 14 now, and Arya is getting quite a collection of dresses. I love putting their Sunday clothes together. Call me old-fashioned, but I want to instill in them that God deserves their very best – that serving Him takes time and effort.

So when it comes to Easter Sunday, I get creative. What most boys wear on Easter is what Xander wears the other 51 weeks of the year. For example, last Easter he wore an agbada (Nigerian suit) because I didn’t want him looking like everyone else. I stumbled upon the perfect dress for Arya back in January and I immediately knew how to match Xander. It took a little time, but I found all the pieces.

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Arya’s dress is from TJ Maxx, and her shoes were a great find at Walmart!
Xander’s shirt is from Old Navy, the jeans are Levi’s 510 Super Skinnies, the shoes are TOMS (“raise IQ, not sea levels”), and the bow tie and suspenders were found on Amazon.com

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Keep Calm and…

This is why I shouldn’t be allowed to stay up late.

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Overdone, I know.
But for some reason I’ve never seen this particular parody. It seems pretty obvious.

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New Leaf

Arya started sleeping through the night about 3 weeks ago. Those 3 months of colic were definitely worth being able to put her down at 10pm and not having to worry about her until 12 or 14 hours later. Unfortunately, once she started sleeping well, I got lazy.

I used to have my quiet time after her 5am feeding and take a quick shower before getting back in bed to catch a little more sleep. When she started sleeping, I just stayed in bed until it was time to make breakfast for Xander. One thing I figured out about myself a few years ago is that if I don’t take care of my health-both spiritual and physical-first thing in the morning, it most likely won’t happen at all that day.

So this week I’ve started a new schedule: I wake up at 6am and spend some time with God. I go for a run. I think through my plans for the day and how to accomplish them. I have a few quiet minutes alone before a child or spouse wakes up.

It’s difficult, but it’s necessary. Because I need to be taken care of before I can attempt to take care of my family the way they need me.

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