I’ve been in a bit of a quandary these last couple of weeks. Perplexed actually. I’ve been reading a great book about the history of religious freedom in the western world. (Yes, here are the confessions of a geek. I love books – I buy or check out way more than I can read. And, I do really enjoy reading history.) Now, onto the perplexing part.

So, I’m sipping my mug of tea and getting my history fix. As I’m reading along, I’m discovering some ugly things about some of the heroes of the Xian faith. Church history is a muddled account of good and bad. For example, John Calvin is a Reformer that I respect immensely. I would not consider myself a Calvinist per se, but I am certainly challenged by his writing and view him as a godly man. However, I was shocked to read that he was instrumental in the arrest and prosecution of a man (Servetus), who was then burned at the stake for heresy. While not directlyinvolved in any burnings, both Calvin and Luther supported, at some level, the idea that the state had the responsibility to root out error by force. And, that force didn’t just mean excommunication from the church. It often meant execution or at the very least, a life of imprisonment in deplorable conditions.

Though I enjoy history, I’m certainly not a historian. And, I do understand that politics and church government were certainly influencing the events of that moment in history. It’s always easier to evaluate events in retrospect. That debate is not my focus here.

The thing that shook me up a bit was the vivid reminder that disciples of Christ are always a mixed-up mess of good and bad. And the bad stuff in their lives isn’t always pre-Christ. Sometimes their ugliest moments are mixed right in with some of their most God-honoring pursuits.

In God’s sweet grace and perfect timing, I happened to be reading Genesis at the same time as this other book. And, what should I stumble across but the account of Abram and Sarai getting impatient with God’s timing for an heir. In this part of the story, Sarai thinks it might be a good idea if Abram sleeps with Hagar to hurry things along. And Abram agrees! Here’s a man with whom God has cut covenant. A man of faith whose life will bless all nations. A man who sleeps with his wife’s handmaiden and has a child outside the bond of marriage. Hmmm. A hero of the faith who was a mixed-up mess of good and bad.

After some perplexing reflection, I was, in the end, reminded that all of us are susceptible to the folly that our own pride brings. We think more highly of our reasoning than we ought. We take matters into our own hands. We get impatient with God’s timing. And, sometimes, we make some awful decisions as a result – decisions that impact generations.

I can respect godly leaders – in fact, I should humbly receive their mentoring influence. But I must not become too enamored with them. Even the best and most godly among us are fallen. Godly men and women are simply flawed followers who sometimes do heroic things.  I must follow Jesus. He is my Hero of heroes.

And, for my part. I must count myself among those flawed followers! What am I embracing with passion that might be mistaken? Will I be humble enough to keep submitting my convictions to the Hero of heroes? The application applies not only to those whom I follow but also to the ones who might be following me . . .

Just me and my little Peanut – all snuggled up before bed a few evenings ago. Somehow we ended up on the topic of how God made man. “With the mud,” she said, her nose all wrinkled up. That’s why they’re so stinky, she reasoned. “But,” she began earnestly, “He carefully fashioned us girls out of pretty purple ribbon. Huh, Mommy.” She had my face all cupped in her sweet little hands. It was a precious moment between mother and daughter. One I’ll certainly cherish. 

Aside from the minor issue that it was a rib and not a ribbon that God used to fashion woman,  Maddie was on to something.  (I’m still not really sure where she got the purple part – shows our tendancy to embellish, I think! But, nevertheless . . . ) Maddie was remembering (and delighting in) the fact that men and women are different. Certainly there are a myriad of ways in which we are the same: both created by God with common purpose and equal value, reflections of His image, fellow heirs of the grace of life – in Christ,  gifted by God for His glory and for the building up of the Body, just to name a few. Primarily we are the same because we were both created for unhindered relationship with God.  

But, in her childlike way, Maddie was recognizing a fundamental difference. In a culture that would like to either minimize or stereotype our differences, Maddie was looking at God’s mode of creation and enjoying our unique design. In Genesis 2 we learn that Adam was made from the earth. The verb implies a more rudimentary, crude action – like a clay pot. We also learn that Eve was fashioned from one of Adam’s ribs. She was taken out of man’s side and brought to his side – fashioned, as it were, like one of my favorite teapots. She was designed and fitted for a purpose. And, that has implications for my life today.

How I pray that Maddie will continue to appreciate that difference and always delight in her feminine design. How I pray that I, too, will throw off mere stereotypes of womanhood and embrace God’s design.

“The moment you wake up each morning, all your wishes and hopes for the day rush at you like wild animals. The first job each morning consists of shoving it all back; in listening to that other voice, taking that other point of view, letting that other larger, stronger, quieter life come flowing in.” These words, penned by C.S. Lewis in Mere Christianity, have struck a chord in my heart.

I know the wild animals all to well. When I rise, my to-do list quickly jumps to the forefront of my mind. And, yet, I know that what I really long for is Lewis’ larger, stronger, quieter life. And, I know that life is found only in Christ. Why do I settle for less? Because the wild animals seem more urgent. And so I let them rush-in instead. No more.

I’m certain that I must begin rising earlier so that I can train my heart to shove the rest back and feed my hungry soul on the truth of God’s Word. What will it take? 6 a.m.? 5 a.m.? No matter. I must do it and trust that God will revive my soul as I wake early and take my life to Him.

“Surely there’s more to momming than this,” I thought as I checked to make sure we had ample fruit snacks for the week. Is this really what it comes down to? Is my role in life reduced to the Grand Dispenser of Yummy Treats?

 Obviously, when I write it out it sounds ridiculous. And, yet, in the nitty gritty of life, it does get muddled enough that I begin to believe that the fruit snack supply is a live or die situation. Why else do I feel guilty when we’re short on groceries? When we run out of strawberry jelly and I realize I forgot to put it on the list last time so I have no back-up in the pantry? Or when we have to get creative with the Kleenex because I put-off the errand to restock toilet paper? Why do I feel like a bad mom in those moments?

Maybe it’s because I’ve made fruit snacks “the thing”. I’ve lost sight of the fact that the fruit snacks are special because they’re part of our nightly reading time. The fruit snacks aren’t the thing. The time snuggled up with my kids before bed, enjoying a treat, reading a book, and discussing it together. THAT is the thing.

In reality, the strawberry jelly, and toilet paper, and fruit snacks are important. But only if I keep them in their proper place. Keeping our cupboards stocked is one way that I care for my family. That makes the task an important one. And, I want to care for them with excellence not mediocrity.

But, as I strive for excellence, I need also remember that the having enough fruit snacks doesn’t mean I’ve truly loved my kids. It merely means I’ve checked something off my to-do list. How ironic that I would worry about fruit snacks in one moment but in another I would fail to be patient with Maddie’s questions while we read together.

 Turns out, there is more to momming than stocking fruit snacks . . .

All this white space seems a tad overwhelming. I mean, really, why does one decide to initiate a blog? What to write? How to begin? Will anyone ever even care to read it?

This first post carries an awful burden. Certainly I have something important or artistic or weighty to say for my first blog entry. Nope. Truth be told, I’m just glad to have it nearly over. Ahhh the burden is lifted!