What Matters: Sep 21 - 27

Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me.
Jn. 14:1

I've written about cemeteries a few other times [here and here, at least], so I hope you're not squeamish about them because here comes another post reflecting on a burial ground.

I'd been given some documents about a few ancestors on my mom's side of the family. I'd wanted to check out their burial sites for a while, so this Saturday while Pete was catching up on lesson plans, I took Henry on a little drive (just 25 minutes down the very road we live on) to the cemetery where they're buried. My parents and sister planned to meet us there, so we waited on the playground for an hour or so. Henry loved it and especially loved when the clock tower chimed for noon, followed by a hymn played by the clock tower bells. He made the sign for "more" when it was all over.

When my family arrived, we combed through the cemetery looking for the Dubson stones. It took a while, but we found them: my great-great-great grandparents, their son and his wife, and their infant daughter along with a few other assorted relatives.

I don't know how many ancestors you've visited, or if you find such places meaningful, but the small sum of our lives always stands out sharply when I'm in a cemetery. Whole lives are condensed to names and dates, and even some of those are obscured by lichen. Has your life really mattered when you've breathed your last and your story is reduced to the words that fit on a single stone?

Sometimes clues are nearby. Lena, the daughter of Isaac and Mary who lived just a few months, must have been adored by her dad and mom. Perhaps she was ill for the whole of her short life, or maybe a sickness or accident claimed her suddenly. I don't think I'll ever know. And there is no indication of how her parents mourned her after putting her tiny body in the ground. Another stone I saw, a huge monument probably 12 feet tall, honored the memory of five children of the same couple, all of whom lived less than five years. How does a heart bear all of that? What other aches and sorrows did those hearts hold, hearts that are now dust again?

In the context of all those lives, abbreviated to two sets of four numbers each, the importance of doing something meaningful while you're alive might be a natural conclusion. If you can't be remembered by much more than your dates of birth and death and maybe a short epitaph, then at least do something that will have lasting value. This is partly true.

But what seems more important to me is not the valuable things we do, but the direction our souls are facing. Isaac and Mary lost an infant daughter. Mary watched her husband die and then lived without him for another 40 years. Even Isaac's mother outlived him and had to put her son in the ground just 8 years after burying her husband. And these are only the sadnesses we can discern from a few slabs of granite. If my life follows the pattern of most people, my own sorrows and anxieties will be much the same. I will lie awake at night worrying about my parents as they slowly fail in health. I may host a funeral lunch for my husband. I can't even guarantee that I won't host one for a child. And then there's all the heartache in between. Car accidents and budgets too tight and broken dishes and stomach flu and burned suppers and maybe a lost cell phone.

At the heart of it, our lives are all very much the same. So knowing the details of my ancestors' lives is of little consequence, despite how it interests me. Knowing instead that I had ancestors - or friends, or children and grandchildren - who pointed their souls toward heaven and lived with eternity printed across their vision, that is of value. It's tempting to care about leaving a story worth remembering, but the details of my life will recycle themselves in someone else's story. And those details ultimately become dust along with our bodies.

What's left when we wake up on the other side of the death cot? Not the things we did that were worth the earth remembering, but the things Heaven noticed. The hard, slow ways that our souls began to mirror Christ. The choices and sacrifices that opposed our naturally selfish inclinations. The ways we humbled ourselves and leaned into God's plan instead of scrambling desperately to bring about our own. 

As I walked through the field of death dates this weekend, I was prompted to consider this, to think about what a life really means, what it should mean, and how to live it so that the abbreviated version on a headstone says all that's really needed: the year the Lord placed me here and the year He plucked me back again. I pray that I'll fill the space in between with things that matter in His eyes.

Grateful this week for: 
slow afternoons
overcast skies
Henry standing on a chair at the counter
new friendships
roasted marshmallows
a cardboard playhouse
fleece jacket
crunchy leaves
leftovers

MidWeek Mini: Verses

Our culture's soundtrack is saturated with violence, sex, dirty humor, selfishness, and hunger for power and fame. I admit to appreciating some country radio more often than is good for me, but mostly the content of today's airwaves disgusts me. If you want to fill your head with something other than what our culture has to offer, the Word of God is the best possible option. However, it can be hard to memorize Scripture and even harder to choose to meditate on it when you'd rather switch your brain off and switch the radio on.

I've come back recently to an organization I discovered more than a year ago when a coworker shared a link to their website. The Verses Project creates visual and musical art weekly, helping to facilitate memorization of, or just meditation on, a verse of Scripture. The art, which is quite varied in style, is available to be downloaded and used as a desktop background on a mobile device, tablet, or computer screen. Though I haven't downloaded any for this purpose, they are quite inspiring and help bring the words of the verse to life. The songs, also varied in style, are also available for free download. (Think of that! FREE download!)

Here's one, Psalm 19:7-8, that I really like. Some are more catchy than others, and there are some I don't like very much. But I've got almost 20 of them downloaded into my iTunes and I've been enjoying them while I'm doing laundry, cleaning up from dinner, or working on projects at home. I also plan to burn a collection of them onto a cd for listening in the car. Especially when I have Henry along with me, I feel grimy after listening to a car's-drive of pop radio. Scripture set to music is so much more life-giving!

I'd love to hear your thoughts if you check out this site! And I'm sure The Verses Project would too. You can follow them on facebook or join their email list (sign up right on their homepage) to get the weekly emails with a devotional relating to the new verse.

image from theversesproject.com

This post was not sponsored by The Verses Project. They don't know me. I just love what they're doing! I hope you'll explore the site and find it helpful for you too.

Mess: Sept 14 - 20

A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. 
Jn. 13:34

I was standing at the sink washing dishes, thinking about my next few tasks (bathing the toddler, sweeping the floor, and doing a load of laundry) when I realized it was all basically the same thing: cleaning up the messes of this dirty world.

I paid attention all week. It was everywhere. Mess, things gone wrong, disappointments. Things shattered, reduced to crumbs, or just coated in dust. The spider creeping along the edge my living room. The money needs that hound endlessly. The arguments. The culture that's yanking even the most basic morality out by the roots. The grime that we cannot escape, smeared over every situation and decision and relationship.

We drag ourselves through this world, cleaning up messes as we go along, and all the while watching more and more things fall apart.

I see it in myself, too. Just when I think I'm making progress - becoming more patient, learning to listen better, actually remembering what I read in my morning devotions - I see three more areas where I'm utterly failing. I still really hate that person. I remain bitter and jealous about that situation. I entirely lack a heart of faith about that decision. I can't get myself clean enough, even though I sweep up again every day.

Though it appears this way, it's actually not true. Contrary to every single other thing on this planet, which is in a constant state of decay and breakdown, my soul has the option of being in a state of improvement. Of course, this is only because my soul is linked to Christ. With each passing hour, the world slides farther and farther away from the perfection in which it was made. But by God's grace, I am inching closer and closer toward the second perfection, the one that will never end.

This doesn't end the struggle. I still need a broom and a bottle of windex, and bug killer with a 20-foot spray range, and a buffer zone in the checking account, and the humility to apologize because there are still messes to clean up every day. But slowly (so slowly!), I am being made more like Christ and the eternal perfection of Heaven comes closer as He changes me. Stacked between the ordinary moments are the ones where I get to see a hint of this.

So consider this, the next time a bottle of soda splits open on your kitchen floor, or you're stuck on the highway with a shard of glass in your tire, or you're tied to a hospital room with plastic tubes, or you hear about another dirty politician who's laid a trail of lies. Consider that even the most filthy and torn-up parts of this world will someday be made new. Consider that your heart could already be on the upswing, though the earth groans with the waiting. Consider that every opportunity to clean something up is a chance to do in a tiny way what God is doing in a huge way: bringing purity and wholeness to what's defiled and broken. Be grateful to have been given a piece of that work.

Grateful this week for: 
fall leaves on the road
afternoon light
new nail polish
a meal in the crockpot
a good ballpoint pen
a lesson from Romans 6
bargains at the consignment sale
scampering of a baby goat
corn chex

Seasons: Sept 7 - 13

Whoever accepts anyone I send accepts me; and whoever accepts me accepts the one who sent me. 
Jn. 13:20

It's the time of year when each day is a microcosm of the changing season. The mornings are so chilly you need a sweatshirt, but by 10:00 the air is sweltering and you'll find your cheeks pinked by the sun and your shirt sticky with sweat. Fall crawls in, but summer holds on tight.

We enjoyed a hot afternoon at the baby pool this week before Fall finally defeated Summer.

As the week dwindled, the rains moved in, the air cooled, and the mood became decidedly autumnal. The change of a season inspires cleansing and purging and starting over. We're removing the air conditioners from the windows. We're almost ready to tear the wild tomato plants out of the garden. There's a box of fall decorations ready to come down from the attic. I've got aspirations (again) of setting up a meal rotation that will simplify dinner plans and grocery shopping this fall. And I'm already thinking about where to take this blog when these fifty-two weeks are up and 2016 brings us back to another Week One.

About a year ago I was in a Sunday School class where the unchanging nature of God was described. I had never considered this in any detail and since being encouraged to think about it, it's been a frequent source of comfort. When I change my mind, when I learn something new, when I develop a fresh way of doing a normal task, or begin to think differently about an ordinary part of my life, I remember this lesson about God not changing. He never gets a better idea or loses interest in something or becomes aware of a new facet to a difficult situation. If he did, perhaps all of the plants on the planet would be dead because one day God lost his passion for keeping the growing things alive. Or maybe he would suddenly realize that it would be much better if humans had been created to fly and we'd all wake up with the itchy sprouts of wings between our shoulder blades. Or He might decide this world has gotten so muddled up that it would really be better to start over, so Earth would just spiral into the sun while He built a new world elsewhere and set His affections there instead.

Change, often, is to our benefit. The changing of seasons is certainly refreshing. And a change in scenery or in daily routine can be rejuvenating. Our life circumstances shift, our moods and interests vary, our communities of friends ebb and flow. But change at other times is heart-breaking, stressful, discouraging, and even terrifying. We can't escape the fact that change comes, yet our hearts instinctively want something that won't change. God's nature provides a foundation of security as we roll through a life that is largely unpredictable. He doesn't tell us what's next, but He promises to be there and to be the same there as He is here: attentive to our needs, compassionate and forgiving, sovereign, loving, and good. In the flux between seasons, it's comforting to rest in someone who will always be the same.

Grateful this week for: 
skillet sizzles
cool morning air
baby cheeks
tomato vine scent
picnic table
shopping bargains
an unprompted gift from my husband
the sound of a toddler and his daddy, giggling all the way up the stairs
book-reading on the porch swing
jazz on the radio while I clean up from dinner
a new wireless keyboard and mouse
a lost toy, found

Colorful Life: Aug 31 - Sept 6

Having loved his own who were in the world, he now showed them the full extent of his love. 
Jn. 13:1

I was crabby this week. There are people at work who rub me the wrong way. My husband makes innocent comments that get under my skin. The wearying cycle of being a toddler-mama wears holes in my patience. People disappoint.

These things are probably true in your life too. 

But the truer parts of life are the brighter parts.

The parts that reflect joy and contentment, beauty and laughter, refreshment and satisfaction. These are the parts that reflect the ultimate Reality, the unspoiled bliss that will one day entirely characterize our lives.

The frustrations and annoyances we face now are real, but temporary. The happinesses we experience now are real, and are just a taste of what's to come.

In both cases - the irritating days and the relaxing ones - the reality of life goes on behind what we think we see. My heart might sour after a particular phone call in the office, but it's not the fault of the person at the other end of the line (even though I think it is). My heart might soar while lying on the lawn in the last of the summer sun, but it's not a joy I could have the power to initiate.

The hours that drive me mad reveal a heart that cares more for my comfort than for the needs of others. And the hours that bring contentment reveal the heart of a Father who chooses to bless me despite my mixed-up priorities.

I'm raising a little boy who's watching my reactions, learning from me what to think about the good moments and the bad ones. I hope that I can model to him the importance of the bright and good things we're given, and the insignificance of the frustrations in our paths.
 
In fact, maybe he will model it to me. His excitement at seeing a bunch of bananas or hearing a train demonstrates an attitude that is quick to see blessings. And the fact that he hasn't even noticed yet that his polar bear toy is missing shows me that maybe I don't need to worry so much about it either.

We're waking up every day in a world that will bring small irritations and huge disappointments. But we also wake up into a world filled to the very brim with bright joys.

Grateful this week for: 
a shipment of textbooks
magnolia tree shade
second cups of coffee
a borrowed book
Real Simple magazine
hand-me-down lampshade
hand-me-down houseplant
Henry's love of looking at books

MidWeek Mini: Outcomes

If you've kept up with my (sporadic) MidWeek Mini posts, you might recall the ambitious goals I set for myself in early July. Since summer is most definitely over (we started school a week ago), it's time for me to come clean about the outcome.

Goal #1: Organize my filing cabinet.
Nope.

Goal #2: Clean all the windows in the house.
I did six of the twenty windows. It's actually a rewarding task, so I definitely feel driven to do the rest before too much of the fall season is gone.

Goal #3: Make grape and/or gooseberry jelly.
Yes! Mom and I canned nine jelly jars of shimmery dark purple grape jelly.

Goal #4: Give my wardrobe another purging.
It wasn't as thorough as the first time, but yes; I did go through things again and make some more cuts.

Goal #5: Finish Les Miserables
Nope. But I did squeeze in several other books at the end of summer!

Goal #6: Go to the county courthouse and get all the historic info on our house.
Sadly, no. This is still something I definitely want to do.

Goal #7: Try out Mint.com for organizing our budget.
Yes! This has been greatly helpful in organizing our spending and tracking our purchases.

Three out of seven goals is definitely a failing grade. The only thing I failed at doing, though, was meeting the self-prescribed deadline. I can still accomplish all of these things and they're no less accomplished if they're done in October than if they'd been done in July.

So, I hereby extend my timeframe for all remaining goals and give myself an extra four months. Maybe I can get them all finished before the year's end. Let's call them End of Year Resolutions.