Hold the Sugar Coating, Please

It's been ages since I've written, I know...Truth is, things have been hard lately, and I was trying to live by that trusty old proverb, "If you don't have anything good to say, don't say anything at all."  So I didn't.

I definitely get the whole idea behind positive thinking, and I definitely agree with it.  BUT, sometimes I feel like I'm not allowed to be real with myself or feel things genuinely if I'm forcing myself to always be positive about everything.  There are legitimately things in life that aren't great.  There are tough times.  It may not be uplifting to admit that I'm struggling, but plastering on a fake smile and spouting insincere positivity certainly isn't helping, either. 

Things will get better, as they always do.  And they really could be worse!  We have our health, and we have a home.  I know that we are blessed.

Prayers for blessings on all of you this Christmas season!

Like a Child

We're having a "business vacation" in San Francisco currently--here for the annual ASOR meetings (American Schools of Oriental Research...aka, the conference for archaeology geeks).  It's always a fun event (it's only the third one I've been able to attend) because we get to reconnect with a bunch of friends from so many different stages of life and from so many different places.  In that sense, it's almost like a reunion of memories past.  And it's a gold mine for professional networking for Owen, as well.

We just rolled into town last night and settled into our budget hotel, and today the kids and I went on a mission to explore our immediate neighborhood by foot.  Jack is adorable: I had told him excitedly, "Today we get to go explore the neighborhood!"  He matched my enthusiasm with wide-eyed wonder, "Mr. Roger's neighborhood?!"  (I think he's only seen the show once, ever.)  I felt terrible letting him down, but then again, there were trolleys!  I reminisced about our Amman days as I puffed up 45 degree inclines with one child strapped to me and the other pushed in front, and it felt good to exert myself again in the warm sunshine.

Around dinnertime, we drove downtown to meet up with Owen and some friends, and of course had trouble finding reasonable parking.  I was determined to find free street parking!  I was just about to give up, when I happened across an empty street boasting a plethora of free parking spaces!  I was so excited that I didn't realize until I'd parked why this section of street was not terribly popular: the entirety of it was heavily populated by shady-looking homeless people and (I'm quite certain) drug dealers.  It was very shady.  I only felt slightly better that there was a Youth With A Mission located there...albeit behind iron gates and bars.  I was so committed to my free parking plan, however, that we stayed.

Safita is such a lovely, sweet, happy, friendly child, always bursting with smiles and eager to interact with other people.  I am told constantly by people that she is the friendliest baby they've ever seen.  So as I toted my kids down Sketchy Street, my Little Miss Sunshine was nearly leaping out of my arms trying to say hello to every single vagabond we passed.  She didn't notice their tattered clothes, the dark circles under their eyes, their greasy hair...It took a good deal of effort to hold on to her!

And it was another one of those frequent backwards moments where my child taught me a lesson.  Oh, to be like a child and not be so quick to pre-judge people or qualify who should be deserving of our kindness.  Safita reminded me that people are more than the situations they find themselves in, they are more than the mistakes they've made, and they all deserve kindness and good will.  I am inspired to have more "x-ray" vision like a child: to see past the outer baggage into the valuable soul of each person I meet.

A Short Success Story

I. Love. Creating.  And I love it when an idea in my head becomes a success in reality.  It feels that there is no greater fulfillment than meticulously planning something and poring over it and sacrificing the time to make it just right, and then, in a magic moment--there it is.  Something that had ceased to exist, suddenly now exists.  I can't get over it; I can't get enough of it.  I know it's not always cheaper to make your own things, and certainly not easier, but the thrill of creating keeps me at it. 

The item of note, if you are wondering, is a sweet little ladybug skirt for part of Fia's Halloween costume.  I certainly don't mean to brag, as it is just a simple little skirt, not professionally constructed at all.  But it is cute, and I made it!  Pictures will follow in a day or two!

Giving, Taking, Life and Death

C.S. Lewis

The other night I was at my aunt and uncle's home for dinner, and we got on the subject of C.S. Lewis, since they had just gone to a discussion on him & his works.  I was quite infected by the conversation, as it brought a twist of new light to a common idea...That idea being Jesus' instruction, "Give, and you shall receive."

Lewis, via scholarly experts via aunt and uncle, suggests that Giving brings life, and Taking brings death.  The definition of "death" being something along the lines of "I am Me" (referenced aunt and uncle, correct me if I'm getting something wrong!)--inferring: a focus on oneself leads to debilitating selfishness and eventual self-destruction.  We were not created to be inward-dwelling creatures.  Evidence for this fact abounds.  But when we Give, we create goodwill and lovingkindness and bonds of friendship, and a host of other wonderful, godly virtues.  When we Take, or even merely focus on ourselves instead of others, we bring sadness, destroy relationships, damage feelings and step on beautiful, made-in-God's-image souls.

giving

I've been thinking about this idea since the conversation we had, and it really does seem true: Every act of death, be it as small as a harsh response to an innocent child or as large as a terrible war, it all is based in selfishness:

"I am tired.  Therefore, I have the right to treat my children (husband, or whoever) harshly."  And I steal their joy and sense of security.
"I am poor and overly busy.  Therefore, I am not obligated to help others in need--they should help me!"  And I miss out on a life-changing opportunity to bless someone and in turn be blessed...for those who give, receive...blessings from heaven, packed down, and overflowing.
"I want to feel important and special.  Therefore, I will destroy that person's reputation and self-esteem."  And I kill those who could be friends, from the inside out, attacking their very being. 

(P.S. This blog entry, pardoning the poor word choices in parts, I thought was really great--refreshingly pointed, it put me in my place!)

We are focused only on our own needs and wants, so that they become so huge that they consume us, and lead us to disregard or be incapable of considering another's needs, and we become voracious, ruthless vehicles of death...often without even realizing it.  Our Wants, and even more deadly so our Needs, can become dangerous weapons, wielded at the hand of selfish introspection.

It goes the same even when the victim of death is our own selves, at our own hand.  Why do we feel insecure and beat ourselves over petty things?  We get so selfishly concerned about Me and how I am viewed by society (or whatever your vice is) that we bring death upon ourselves each time we don't measure up.  It is still selfishness, if you are bringing death upon yourself.

"...For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you."  The rest of that verse, as quoted above (Luke 6.38).  Scary.  Convicting.

It makes sense.  Why do you think it feels so good to give?  Like it sparks some deeply buried fire of passion, the kind of passion we feel when we do what we know we're created to do.  We are, after all, made in the image of our Creator, and our Creator Gives...He gives Life, He gives Forgiveness, He gives Grace, He gives Everything we Need...He gives his only Son, so that whoever might believe in Him would not perish, but would have eternal life. 

The Chair

Jack had one of those testy-two's sorts of days.  In one particular instance, he'd done something that wasn't really a huge deal, but it was disobedient enough to warrant a time out.  If he had just cooperated, he would have spent one harmless minute in time out and been off to play as he wished, BUT...He kicked and screamed and refused to stay in the chair, so that every time he got out of it, the time out was prolonged by another minute (and some other forms of discipline may have been necessary as well).  He riled himself into quite a mess.

In the middle of our fifth time out, or so, I found myself speaking convictingly to myself as I instructed my son, "You are prolonging your discipline by your own disobedience.  If you would just obey and stay in the chair, the discipline would be over so fast!"

Too often I find myself constantly dealing with the same old issue and thinking, "Why is God STILL teaching me this?  I get the point!"  But maybe, I'm just not staying in the chair.

I'm going to try harder to be still.

Perceptions

Many apologies for disappearing from the realm of cyber-space these past couple weeks!  Life has gone from hard to impossible to unbelievably insane...I have been severely overwhelmed, and frankly, blogging hasn't even crossed my mind.  But, to fill the void until I'm back on my feet, here's a post I wrote while in Jordan but somehow failed to publish before we returned:

Over our time in Jordan I have developed several perceptions of Jordanian life & culture...I don't say "observations" because that might indicate that these things are unbiasedly true, which they may be, but I only am aware of my own perceptions.

So, without further ado, here is Jordan through my eyes:

• They love to add their two cents to your parenting...even the men.  Every time I go out, the security guard or trash man or shop owners or random ladies have to comment that the kids aren't dressed warm enough or need their hat on or shouldn't be sitting a certain way in the grocery cart, etc.  They usually tell me these things in Arabic with a few Enlish words sprinkled in, so I just smile and pretend they're saying something nice and move on.  They aren't being not nice, just nosy.
• They have no concept of respecting your personal "viewable" space...Not sure how else to phrase that, but the point is: People will stare at you unashamedly and continue staring even after you've spotted them staring, and will not look away.  If you try to stare them down into the submission of averting their eyes, you will end up having a staring contest--and you will lose.  This issue is always a bit disconcerting to me; it makes me uncomfortable.  It's very un-Western.
• Gas prices are uniform at every gas station across the country, and prices do not fluctuate.  They have been the same now for six months, and counting.
• Hair salons are called "saloons," and are for men.  I know that they have salons for women, but I have not yet seen one...Probably because they have to be private so that the general public is not exposed to the letting down of a woman's hair?  Men's saloons are everywhere, however. 
• Stores have the funniest names...What would you anticipate is sold at a store called "Baby and Lady"?  To me, I would expect it to be a baby clothing and maternity store; but nope, it's shoes and bags!  There also is the "Whatever Outlet," "Needs Supermarket," the store advertising "Open 8 days a week!" (where are they finding an extra day each week??!!), etc.  There's also the "Ladies Fat Breaking Gym."  The "True Value Home & Garden" store, with the same font/logo as in the States, surprisingly is a toy store, with a sprinkling of camping and blow-up pool supplies.  I know this is juvenile, but our favorite store name is "Haboob."  
• They still have real, old-school tailors and shoe smiths, working out of hole-in-the-wall shops packed with supplies.  I feel like I've traveled backward in time every time I see one, and I love it!
• They don't seemed concerned with quality or presentation, but simply do things for adequate functionality.  I say this as a generality, and does not apply to every situation.  To their credit, they can rip up, grade, and pave a huge section of road in less than a day (where the same section in the States might take a week), and build a massive apartment building in a matter of weeks. 
• People are extremely hospitable.  A taxi driver invited us to his house for dinner after meeting us for 5 minutes.  Sweet shops always hand out free cookies.  When shopping in the souk, almost every shop keeper offers tea, coffee, soda, water, etc.  
• They seem to attach no gender value to colors.  I will consistently be asked if Safita is a boy or girl, even when she's wearing a pink outfit.  I also have noticed little boys dressed in purple, etc.
• There are lots of Asian/Polynesian/Philippino nannies and housekeepers about that accompany their employing families out and about.  I've been told that Jordanians will not do this type of work and so they hire people of other ethnicity for the jobs

I'm sure there are things that I missed, but that gives a fun sampling of the colorful beauty of culture!  I am so glad that God did not make us all alike.

Hope

Hope is such a powerful thing...I think, it really makes or breaks a person, what kind of hope they have.

Of course, our greatest hope should always be in the Lord, who will never fail and always exceed.

And it is He who gives us the "life" hopes, the things that inspire us and ignite a passion and get us excited to wake to face another day.  The hopes, be they little or big, that fill life with meaning and purpose.  Hope really does lift one's soul like a balloon rising on the wind, away from bondage and care.

Tonight, I am feeling hopeful.  It is a hope that is securely attached to hard, difficult work, but also reality--as in, my dreams can be realized, if I remain disciplined.  Here's my resolve: to grab hold of that balloon of hope and see to what heights the wind might blow!