Reasons to be (un)grateful: Nov 23 - 29

... for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea. 
Isaiah 11:9

A family can be whole one year and broken the next. The annual family photo can be a few faces short for any number of reasons, and those that remain ache from the absence. And when holiday celebrations bring families together, the blend of stress, responsibility, memories, anxiety, and expectations among a band of everyday sinners is a recipe for disappointment.

We entered the "holiday season" this week with the celebration of Thanksgiving and though my family enjoyed the weekend, I'm hesitant to be another whipped-cream storyteller of the internet, swirling yummy curlicues when there are so many whose hearts are hurting. November and December and January are shellacked in festive colors and tagged (or hashtagged) with words like "cheer," "joy," "grateful," and "gladness." But the more holiday seasons I walk through, the more sensitive I become to the realities other people are living when November rolls around and the twinkle lights go up. Maybe there are obvious aches like a fresh divorce, a recent death, or a sudden job loss. But certainly there are private aches too. No holiday table is free from them.

Over the past few months, I've watched one little part of the story God is writing in the life of a friend of mine and she gave me permission to share it. Midway through their process of buying a house this fall, her husband lost his job. The purchase of the new house was threatened by the income loss, and the arrangement of a tenant for the current house (which they intend to rent out rather than to sell) had hit only dead ends. Around the same time, all four wheels were stolen off one of their cars in the middle of the night. The school district in which the new home is located will not be able to serve their special needs daughter, but the only specialized school that had an opening was the one they liked least. One of their toddler's daytime babysitters suddenly quit. It seemed that in the list of "things that can go wrong," nearly every item had been checked. My friend told me that, uncharacteristically, she was not worrying. She had taken the pieces of their life and handed them to the Lord, submitting them to His will. As of this week, the sale of the house was finalized. The move was completed and she was preparing to cook a Thanksgiving turkey in her new kitchen. A spot opened up for their daughter at their first choice school. Another babysitter was wiling to pick up the extra day. And then there was a job offer for her husband, one much larger than ever expected, at a company just 10 minutes from their new home. The new salary meant they could lower the rent on their former home, and they are hopeful that this will bring a renter soon.

I share her story, rather than any part of my own, because I think it's often the stories of others that encourage our faith most. Certainly we have opportunities to see God work in our own lives, but we're often too close to the situations to notice what He's doing. When we get to see a story from the sidelines, the distance helps us see the whole thing as one narrative, rather than facing the episodes as a seemingly endless parade of setbacks.

Pete and I noticed at our church's Thanksgiving Eve service that of the people who shared from the open mic about things they were grateful for this year, most described situations for which one would not be expected to give thanks. It was the disappointments and the struggles that caused people to notice reasons to thank the Lord. Not everyone reaches Thanksgiving - or Christmas - with a story worth sharing in front of the church. Some stories are still in the messy parts when the year ends. But listening to the other stories God is writing, watching how He brings beautiful things out of those dark seasons, and praising Him for the good He has done in other lives can lift a sad heart toward heaven.

If you had trouble making a list of things to be thankful for this week, or if you're looking forward to the work days between now and Christmas because they keep you away from hurtful family relationships, or if the glittery holiday you'd pictured has been muddied by a painful loss, try peering in the window of someone else's story. Don't look for perfection (it's not in their home either). Look for healing. Every truly grateful heart is a heart that's been patched up and mended. And as you humbly turn your bruised story over to the Lord, you can be sure that you'll receive healing too and one day - maybe soon, maybe not so soon - yours will be a story of gratefulness too.

One: Nov 16 - 22

I in them, and you in me. May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me. 
Jn. 17:23

You know what Jesus prayed for us before He went to the cross? Not for our spiritual growth, not for our soul-winning skills, not for increased holiness. He prayed that His people would have unity. And not just a loose unity that means we all share the name "Christian," but unity that actually mirrors Christ's oneness with the Father.

Every morning this week, as I read the verses in John 17 that record this prayer, I became more convicted of my neglect for pursuing this oneness. I make myself the standard of 'normal' and assume that people are mostly like me and that God prefers it that way. The ones who aren't like me - who like different kinds of worship music, or different translations of the Bible, or different home decor styles, or live in different parts of the country - well, he tolerates them with a patronizing smile. He doesn't mind caring for them too, but really, He's my type.

How embarrassingly prideful.

In Jesus's John 17 prayer, and in the entirety of His ministry, He made it clear that He does not intend for His people to isolate themselves into cliques. He intends complete unity among His children. This is humbling for every self-centered Christian, but the reason He intends it is even more humbling.

Jesus said that this unity would "let the world know" that Jesus had truly been sent from God. Isn't it often lack of unity among believers that drives people from Christ? Don't many of our sins come down to a failure to live out the oneness that Jesus prayed for us? Do you see how much our unity matters?

Perhaps you are in a family that is shattered. Or a church that's been split. Or a community fractured down the middle by disagreements. Or maybe you just have a colleague you dislike or a member of your church you avoid. Jesus knows that oneness isn't easy. I think that's why He prays for it with such urgency. And if it's the theme of His last great recorded prayer, shouldn't it be the theme of at least a few of ours too?

If you're finding it hard to look down the road ahead and see oneness with other Christians, try making Jesus's prayer your own this week.

"I pray that all of us may be one, Father, just as You are in Christ and Christ is in You. May we be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent Jesus and have loved us, even as you loved Him."

Sausage Tortellini Soup

If it's raining at your house, like it is at mine, you're probably feeling hungry for some autumn soup for a cozy November dinner. Try this one!

What You Need:
1 lb ground sweet Italian sausage
1 onion
2 carrots
olive oil
32 oz chicken broth
2 C water
1 can (14.5 oz) petite diced tomatoes
1 can (8 oz) tomato sauce
1/2 tsp dried basil
1/2 tsp dried oregano
1/2 C milk or cream
1-2 T flour
1 8oz package dried tortellini
2 C chopped kale

To Prepare:
In a large saucepan, brown the sausage until fully cooked. 

Chop 1 onion and 2 carrots into small pieces. 

Remove sausage from pan when cooked and set aside.

Pour a swirl of olive oil in the saucepan and add onion and carrot.

Cook until softened, about 5-8 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Add 32 oz chicken broth, 2 C water, 1 can petite diced tomatoes, 1 can tomato sauce, 1/2 tsp basil, and 1/2 tsp oregano. Turn heat to high.

Whisk a heaping tablespoon of flour into about 1/2 C of milk or cream. When dissolved, add this to the soup and stir well.

Bring soup to a boil.

Add tortellini and cook as long as is directed on the package (probably about 15 minutes), stirring occasionally.

Add chopped kale before serving and stir to allow it to soften.

Not My Life: Nov 9-15

They are not of the world, even as I am not of it. Sanctify them by the truth; your word is truth. 
John 17:16-17

Christmas came to our home this week.

Watching this nearly-two-year-old show excitement about Christmas warms his mama's heart. A few times I found him sitting on the steps, just sitting and looking at the Christmas lights. And ever since we got his nativity set from the attic this week he's been constantly playing with the people and setting up scenes. He is delighted by the presence of Jesus in this house, though he doesn't yet understand the miracle that these toys represent.

Even though I had a baby Jesus kicking around the living room this week, I still found it hard to keep the truth of Christmas - of the world-changing plot twist His coming brought - in mind. I was still short-tempered with my husband and son. I still fretted over issues at work and at home. I still complained.

His arrival on this planet changed everything. But too often His arrival on a mantelpiece doesn't change anything.

A line from Paul Tripp's devotional helped my perspective this week:

"You have been called to be the look on His face, the tone of His voice, and the touch of His hand. Your life doesn't belong to you anymore."

I am chronically possessive of my life. Especially when life is ordinary and it seems like my wishes are generally coming true, I struggle to remember that I'm not in charge. I'm running my life, right?

But when life gets rocked - by Pete's injury, or bombings and shootings an ocean away - it's much easier to admit that I'm not writing the script. Even the glitch that knocked out our internet connection on Sunday night forced me to admit that my plans don't always work out.

And an unexpected peace comes when I recognize that no incident rolls into history without a Divine nod. Worry can melt when I remember that my breaths, my heartbeats, the winding path of my life are not in my hands. I can become a little bit more like Jesus when I stop fighting God for the steering wheel and allow Him to drive.

Christmas lights and a plastic nativity set don't make Jesus any closer than He normally is. But the next few months will layer reminders into my life of Christ's nearness and His kindness to me. So hopefully my tendency to run the show will be somewhat forced into submission.

Do you struggle with this too? The spiritual blindness to the miracle of being called into God's story and given the chance to play a part in it? After this week, in which we're finishing up readings in John 17, my weekly meditation passages will be focused on the coming of Jesus. Won't you join me in reading these passages each day? Let's focus our hearts and minds on what Jesus brings when He comes and how our lives fit perfectly in the puzzle of His great plan.

MidWeek Mini: Bread

So, did you watch The Great British Baking Show yet? I dare you to watch a whole season and then not try a made-from-scratch recipe in your own kitchen. After finishing the season that just aired on PBS, I promptly went to the kitchen to try a simple Italian loaf. The first two attempts were mediocre. But a third try, in which I layered mozzarella cheese and pepperoni, was tasty if not especially attractive. Today, I'm trying an alternate recipe and my hopes are rising with the dough.

After just a few days of bread-baking adventures, I have learned a few life lessons taught in the school of home-kitchen-baking.

1. How to wait. Proofing (that's the rising of the bread as the yeast activates) takes time. There's no action for the baker to take, nothing to quicken the process. Just patiently waiting. And after it finishes, you punch it down and reshape it for a second round of rising and waiting. Moving on to the next step too soon can mean doom for your bread. You must learn to wait.

2. The sweetness of providing nourishment. My husband got home yesterday and devoured nearly an entire loaf of pepperoni bread. Providing something yummy that fills up the soul as it fills up the belly is rewarding. Doing things for others, things that meet their needs, is sweet to your own soul.

3. Nobody else's life instructions work perfectly for you. The first loaf I tried was ugly. I mean really ugly. Dry looking, pale and pasty in color. It tasted alright, but my guess was that my oven (which is gas and therefore heats up quickly) did not work with the fast-rising yeast recipe I was trying. I had to make some changes for the second loaf, which was only slightly better, and will be further experimenting with getting the right coloring on my bread.

So what did I bake? I started with this recipe. It looked super easy and impossible to mess up. As I mentioned, it didn't brown very well and looked awful but the taste was yummy, especially my third try.

Today, I baked this one. After the first rise, I made it into a rectangle and sprinkled it with some Italian seasoning, mozzarella cheese, and pepperoni slices. Then I rolled it up, let it have its second rise, and baked it, all as directed in the recipe (with some extra cheese on top too). I'm still having issues with the coloring of the bread (why is it not browning!?), but it's tasting awesome.

Got a bread recipe that never fails? Got tips for me on getting this bread to turn golden? Help a baker out! In the meantime, go buy some yeast and get some bread proofing in your kitchen.

Cracks: Nov 2 - 8

I have brought you glory on earth by completing the work you gave me to do. 
Jn. 17:4

I try to live with joy, but sometimes the tide of worry rises and I get swept into deep waters of anxiety. Sometimes it's health concerns, like Pete's torn ACL. Sometimes it's life's endless paperwork, like the water bill and the insurance renewal. Sometimes it's our future or our family, and sometimes it's just the cracked plaster and sloping floors of our vintage old house.

I told Pete I wanted to move this week. I didn't really mean it because I love this house, but every time I see a new crack across a wall or hear a new creak that wasn't there before, the panic swells up and I wonder how long it will be until this home is just a heap of bricks in a grassy lot. My eyes trace little fractures across a wall and I imagine the whole room splitting in two. I add up pounds in my head, tallying the weight that might bring a whole house crumbling. I tiptoe across floorboards.

I'm not complaining. Life is hard and it's chock-full of reasons to hope for Heaven. I expect struggles and I shouldn't aim towards eliminating them. It's the worry about the struggles that I shouldn't tolerate. And I'm noticing that worry tends to get the best of me when I'm absorbed solely in my own story. Anxiety blooms when I dwell in my own little kingdom. So I naturally find myself fretting when I'm thinking about my version of a perfect life instead of opening my heart to the lives of others. When the cracks in my wall get my attention before the cracks in my relationships, it's clear that my priorities are out of sync.

In thinking about worry this week, I was challenged toward a few antidotes:

1. Choose gratefulness instead. A place of anxiety is the perfect setting to practice intentional gratefulness.

2. Pray. And not just for the need that's worrying me, but also for someone or something else to remove my mind from the worry.

3. Relocate. A walk, a trip to the store, even just a little stroll out onto the patio brings a fresh perspective to a simple worry, redirecting my mind toward peace.

As long as I'm walking life here, there will be things to worry about. But refusing that worry and instead choosing gratefulness and joy is the path of the faithful. I am praying for increased faith to kick worry out of my home this week. And if you are prone to worry, I'm praying for you too.

MidWeek Mini: Coming Up Next

I've been thinking for a while about what to do with this site when 2015 ends. I started Fifty-Two this year with the goal of re-creating a habit of personal journalling and of using writing to bring meaning out of the ordinary days in my life. But having simply explored my own life for a year, I'm now hoping to make this space tell more than just my own story. I want to create a place that encourages an intentional life, inspires the search for simplicity and joy, and guides daily routines of Bible study and focused prayer for everyday Christians who long to see more of Jesus.

For 2016, you can expect weekly posts (and MidWeek Minis) to continue, but rather than aiming primarily to tell my own story, my goal will be to encourage readers to soak up God's Word and to spend focused time in prayer. Each week, we'll read a short passage of Scripture and we'll read it daily, letting it sink deep into our souls. We'll also focus our prayers on a particular person in our individual lives (maybe our moms, our neighbors, or our bosses). Along the way I'll share resources that are helpful to me, give chances for you to share parts of your own stories, and continue to stay honest about the ups and downs life always brings.

While I work toward that transition when 2016 begins, please consider spreading the word about the new Our Fifty-Two! I'm excited about what's coming up and I'd love for lots of you to be excited to start with me when January comes. Follow along on instagram for more sneak peeks about what's ahead. And pray with me that this will be a place of encouragement where together we can cultivate gratefulness, seek simplicity, and delight in the joy of knowing our Lord better each week.

Community: Oct 26 - Nov 1

Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also the interests of others. Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus. 
Phil. 2:4-5

[If you're following along with my reading plan, you know this wasn't part of this week's reading. I went off the plan and read Philippians 2:1-11 this week instead of the John passage.]

Confession: I'm not great with people. I value people and enjoy close friendships, but when it comes to crowds, I get tongue-tied and easily overwhelmed. So after muddling through group gatherings every evening this week, my crowd-shy self is seeking some alone time.

As a lifelong introvert, I'm sometimes guilty of longing for solitude too much. But you don't have to read more than a page or two into the Bible before you see that being alone is not what we were made for. We were made for shared life, for community living, for giving and receiving kindnesses.  And community doesn't just come into play at the women's social or on Small Group nights. Shared living doesn't only occur when a family with a new baby needs meals or when friends buy a house and need help carrying furniture. Rolling through life alongside others is part of God's design. It's why He gave us families and churches and spent so much time giving commands for how to interact with others.  

God knows that focusing on others squashes self-centeredness. Every moment of the day, I'm swirling in my own thoughts: "what's for dinner, did I send that email, I should dust the living room again, I think I'm getting a cold, I wish I had time to repaint my fingernails, I hope Henry has a good nap, did I leave that window open?" So when I hear from others about shopping trips, TV shows, baking disasters, child-rearing struggles, and and fashion shortcuts, I'm reminded that my experiences in life are limited. The content doesn't need to be profound to knock me out of my own internal monologue and into the reality of what other people are living.

Better yet, when I open my home - and my heart - to the ordinary and imperfect lives of others, I find that they are just as needy as I always feel and that we can encourage each other simply by sharing an evening together. Welcoming others and finding ways to serve them allows me a taste of Jesus's own ministry of self-sacrifice. I don't think I'm particularly gifted at showing hospitality, but sharing the simple gift of an open heart is easy. And the reward might be more than just friendship. Being open to people means that God can use them in my life too. So hosting a meal might lead to a new job. Or a cup of coffee could lead to a brand-new ministry. It's almost always through other people that God accomplishes His work among us. Could something amazing start with my act of kindness to someone this week?

Sharing life becomes easier - even for an introvert - when we plant relationships in the soil of prayer. In the last year or two, I've come to realize that prayer (which might just look like sitting) is actually the most powerful thing I can do. Taking my concerns and the needs of others to the Lord in prayer brings peace, confidence, and hope. Creating a habit of praying for the people who are sharing my road through life isn't just an opportunity to see God bring answers. It also brings me closer to them as my heart begins to grow around their lives. It's harder to stay focused on myself when I'm daily thinking about how I can lift others up in prayer.

I am surrounded by examples of this shared living and it's changing how I look at life. My sister-in-law texts me from the grocery store to ask if I need anything. A friend checks in with me on Sunday about birthday cards we discussed on Wednesday. Everybody at Small Group kindly eats slices of a yummy, but horribly deformed, apple cake I baked. A colleague who traveled to Peru for a wedding comes back with a pair gloves for me. Life lived with a thought for others, rather than lived circling my own self, is richer and broader and stronger. When we give, we gain. When we share, we grow. It's a principle I want to teach my son, and it's one I want to live out more fully myself. If I give in too often to my preference for alone time, I'm missing the wonderful gift of a life shared with others. I was made for it. And I'm learning to embrace it.