Eve and Me

Eve gets a bad rap.

Centuries of church tradition lay a heavy portion of the blame for the first sin at the feet of the first woman.

I always thought that was a little rough. After all, where was Adam? Shirking his duty? Watching passively? Going along to get along?

A few years of marriage, however, have caused me to reevaluate my position.

I think Adam was a fairly ordinary guy (apart from the whole firstfruit-from-God's-hand thing).
A gentle man (the original gentleman!).
Content in the world God gave him.
Blissfully happy with this "woman" creature - one like him, yet so unlike.
Enjoying a happy life.
A nice guy.

Maybe something like my own husband (on a really good day. This is Eden we're talking about, after all!).

Consider the dynamics of your marriage. You know, and I know, that if there is something that we really, really want, there are ways to get it. When we set our heart on something, we could probably get our way over just about anything (whether or not it's good for us) given enough time and persistence. I don't have to tell you the tricks to wear down a husband's resolve. I don't have to list the arsenal we have at our disposal - seemingly since birth! - to influence the man next to us. It is positively frightening when you think about just how much sway we hold. Think of the line from "My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding": "The man may be the head, but the woman is the neck that turns the head!"

We can return, triumphant from the fray, with his "agreement," but as discerning women, we have to be aware of the cost of our "victory."

I've seen it. I've felt it. In my own marriage, primarily. In others' relationships, some.

Think about it. What happens when you've pushed and prodded and begged and huffed and cried and given the silent treatment?

Either he holds to his guns and keeps saying no, or he gives in and says yes.

What anguish of spirit there is in a man who desperately loves his woman and desires little more in this world than to please her, yet who cannot, in good conscience, give his wife the one thing she asks! Let's face it: most men like to please their wives. They don't go looking for ways to frustrate us or foil our goals. So when a godly man has reservations about a scheme that is a pet of his wife, it takes some serious mettle for him to hold his ground, even to the grief of his own heart. Then, we're angry, he's dejected, and we think we've both lost. If he would just give in already, we want to scream, then I would have what I want and things would be good again!

So what if he says yes?

If he really feels that to give me something would be wrong, and he says so, and I then corner him long enough that he caves, I get what I want! That was the goal, after all, wasn't it? To get the object of my desire?

A mere five and a half years of marriage have taught me to fear this outcome more than the abandonment of the object of my desire. Why? Because of what it does to my man and our relationship.

When I ask P for something that he feels he cannot, for the good of our family, our marriage, my own good, whatever, give me, he may attempt to tell me "no." If, after I pitch a fit, I get him to cave, I can see his spirit deflate.

He has set out to protect me, and he has failed.
He had desired to do the best thing, and he caved.
He was going to stand, but he's crushed.

His very manhood takes a hit, and unless I wise up quickly and repent, there will be lasting repercussions for his willingness to lead, my relationship with him, and his relationship with God.

Think of Adam: he goes from walking with God, for goodness's sake, to hiding in the bushes with shame.

We have that power, ladies!

You are a driving force in your husband/fiance/boyfriend/brother's life! You can be a source of anguish and shame for him, or you can build him up into the man you envisioned when you chose him to walk through life with you.

Don't think I'm letting Adam off the hook completely. He had some heart issues that caused him to go along with Eve's desires rather than God's. But I'm not writing to our men. I'm writing to us, ladies! Adam's short-comings don't hold the message for us today.

Oh, my sister, be very careful what you ask of your man!

And if, as you read this, you feel the stirrings of the Holy Spirit in you, listen closely.
You may be thinking of the way you've "won," but things haven't been the same between the two of you since.
You may be in the middle of an argument right now, and you can't believe he's being so stubborn about it.
You may be feeling vaguely guilty over the manipulative habits you've allowed yourself to indulge for years.
Don't wait another moment to make things right.

Give up that thing that you've elevated to a higher place than your spouse, your marriage, and the good of your family.
Repent.
Go, and be reconciled.

It's not too late.
But go now.

Don't wait til you're in a pickle like Esau: "when he desired to inherit the blessing, he was rejected, for he found no chance to repent, though he sought it with tears" (Hebrews 12:17 ESV). But rather, "now is the favorable time; behold, now is the day of salvation" (2 Corinthians 6:2).

Run - run! - toward forgiveness and blessing.

"I Had No Idea"

We've all had those life experiences we look back upon and say, "I had no clue what I was getting into."

Two-year-olds (like N this morning) may learn that Mom and Dad tell them not to touch an electrical outlet for a reason.

Middle school kids often find that friendship drama is more than they bargained for.

A teen may find college harder to navigate, more work, or even more enjoyable, than they thought going into the experience.

Adults have their own versions of being irreversibly over their heads: a new job, owning a home, marriage, parenting. And it seems, no matter what sort of measures we take to be prepared going into it, there are just some things in life you have to experience to really grasp what it's like.

And then, of course, there are the life events we hardly comprehend to prepare ourselves for.

Our two-year-old is coming up on one such event, and try as we might to prepare her, she honestly has no idea what's in store for her. But, she'll figure it out sometime in January.

All In

If I thought I didn't post very often before a child landed smack-dab in the middle of my life, I had another thought coming.

I wish I had posts niggling away in the back of my mind, just itching to run through my fingers into the computer keys, but I don't. It's as if I've not only lost the time but also the contemplative power to post.

Is my mind too full of to-dos and what-ifs to ponder anything beyond/above myself and my day? Or maybe I've allowed my mind to snack on diversions rather than dig into a feast of actual thought.

Or maybe this parenting thing is just completely all-encompassing.

Parenting isn't something a body can do halfway. A person really has to be all in - or not at all. Good parenting, bad parenting, that's another topic entirely; but if you're going to raise a little ankle-biter, it's going to completely revamp your life.

After N was born, someone told us that having a child was the most unselfish decision a couple could make. I'm still thinking having the SECOND child is least selfish, because then you have an idea of what you're giving up:
the right to your own glass and plate;
the ability to do a task from beginning to finish without interruption;
the possession of your own bed;
the luxury of using the bathroom by yourself;
the chance to sleep through the night;
the pursuit of hobbies, reading, and other interests;
and on and on and on . . .

N and I were at the town kiddie pool yesterday. It's a little wading area set off from the main pool, starts at 0" and gets to 1' 6" at the "deep" end. It comes complete with nine little fountains of water, three sets of three, spraying, bubbling, and shooting in their respective places. A favorite activity of the young patrons is to step on one of the fountains in a set, causing the others to spray further than normal.

N, taking everything in as she does, saw the "big" kids doing this and decided she would get in on that action.

She pulled herself out of the 4" section, hurried her way to the deep end, and flopped her toes down on the first fountain she came to.

Surprise!

The water shot between her toes and, rerouted by her interference, squirted right up into her face!

Shocked and a utterly perplexed, she backed up, furiously wiping water from her eyes. I wanted to laugh, but instead put on my compassionate face and helped her dry her face.

"Did the water squirt you?" I asked.

"Uh-uh," she answered with quivering lip.

"Here, use your whole foot, like this," I demonstrated.

And she did! She was so proud! Stepping on the fountain like the big kids!

She just had to go all in.

A Letter

This is an open letter to a group of my Christian brothers and sisters whom I have never met, in a place I have never been. You see, you are receiving a blessing this week that has required a sacrifice from me and my family: my sister, B, and her husband, L, as your new pastor and pastor's wife.

Please understand from the beginning that I have every reason to think well of you. L & B had only good things to say about you all after their visit to candidate with you. I have only seen warmth, kindness, and welcome from your interactions with them on Facebook and on your website. But I have learned the hard way that people we love and think we know and who, we believe, love us in return can hurt us the most profoundly. No one is beyond the benefit of an encouraging word of exhortation. And so, I desire to spur you on to love and godliness in your interactions with my sister and brother-in-law because, while God can require hard - even painful - things of us at times, failing to walk in His ways always results in pain, even for innocent parties.

For this reason, I write to you.

Please remember that my big sister is not just a pastor's wife. She is, but she is so much more than that. She is a wife, a daughter, a sister, a cousin, a friend. She is a professional, a college graduate, and an aunt to my unborn child. She is the one who plunked out duets with me on the piano, who played dolls and dress-up with me, who introduced me to my favorite brand of makeup, who inspires me to read worthwhile books. She is well-read and has extensive knowledge about a variety of topics. She has spoken to a roomful of hundreds of collegues and has traveled to divers places. She has many strengths, but she has her fears and foibles as well. She isn't perfect, and moving into a parsonage will not make her so. Please, be kind in your words to and about her. Do not be shocked when she disappoints you or lets you down in an expectation. Get to know her as a real human, not just as your pastor's wife, or you will indeed miss out.

Please remember that L is not just your pastor. He is, but he is also so much more. L has hobbies and favorite books and places. He has quirks and preferences. He is not just learning to lead a church but also a wife. He will shepherd you in the ways of the Lord, but he himself is not infallible. There will be cultural differences as well (have you ever heard of Pizza Ranch or the Minnesota goodbye?). You will call him Pastor L, but do not let that title lull you into thinking that he is a pastor first (I say this because I am guilty of the same with my pastor). No, he is L. Please do not miss the richness of what that means by allowing the stereotypes and expectations of a title to suffice for actually getting to know him as a man.

Thank you for calling B & L. Thank you for extending this opportunity to a young couple fresh from seminary. I look forward to the opportunity to visit with you in person, to meet you and to begin to love the people and place that my sister and brother-in-law have chosen to love. I had never heard about you before a few months ago, and now it is my desire to make you friends as well as spiritual family. Please, in lieu of and agreement with their biological families who are separated by so many miles, wrap your arms - physically, spiritually, in prayer and in encouragement - around these our loved ones. As you do, may their absence from us be a gift to you. May you abound more and more in the riches of God's kindness, and may He strengthen you in the knowledge of our Savior Jesus Christ.

Peace be to you.

The Struggle

Our little family is in the third trimester now.

Third trimester.

That sounds so much scarier than the first or second trimester did. Now, labor is impending. A birth is coming and coming soon. We are closer now to being honest-to-goodness parents than we are to our past of being just a couple.

All this has been brought forcefully to my full attention as I wait to hear from one of my dear friends who is laboring to bring their daughter into this outside world. I have been praying for the three of them in the silence between text updates, trying not to worry over long silences, practicing trusting that all is well when I so desperately desire that nothing go wrong for our dear friends.

All of which makes me think of the last time I worked in our church nursery.

It was a fairly full Sunday, but we volunteers were handling it well. I was cuddling and rocking a little boy who was sleepy/weepy, which lent me the chance to observe some of the others. There was the brother-sister duo who were playing with the plastic food, the little guy who wanted to read books, and one particular little girl who was on a mission of her own making.

She was attempting to climb up onto the Little Tykes slide, which, ordinarily would not have been much of a challenge for her. She had, for whatever reason, decided that today she wanted to take a a toy up there with her.

This was a good-sized toy, not too heavy, but cumbersome enough that she had to push and prod and shuffle it around while trying to get a leg up on the playset, cacthing it as it threatened to tumble from a precarious perch, adjusting it, and trying again.

My rocker was close to the playset, and I found myself ready to lean over and reach out a hand. One little push and it would be easily centered on the platform above the slide and all that would remain would be for her to follow it herself. Mission accomplished, right?

But before I could lean over and act on the impulse to rescue her, the thought flashed across my mind, "The struggle is important."

I sat back, wondering where the thought had come from, and just that quickly, she had pushed the toy to a secure position and crawled up after it.

The struggle is important.

Sometimes, it is simply important in the sense of accomplishment that follows knowing we persevered when it was hard and got it done anyway.

It is certainly important to the development of infants and toddlers as they learn to hold up their heads, roll over, crawl, run.

Children struggle to read or write or do simple sums but later go on to college and grad school where they have a whole new set of struggles to vanquish.

And parents get to go through their own struggles of pregnancy, birth, and child-rearing - and then they look back and wonder where the time went.

All these struggles are a prelude to learning more, doing more, being more. There is no growth where there is no struggle.

The struggle is important.

Of course, we have families - families of blood and families of Spirit - who gather around us, support us in our struggles, help us with the resources to make it through, and sometimes even remove the struggle from our lives. They are an important part of life, placed there by God's own loving hand of provision.

But we must not be too quick to pray for the removal of our struggles. We must not be so short-sighted as to assume that the faster an issue is resolved, the better it is for us or for our struggling friend.

Growth happens in the action of struggling. Yes, we can grow bitter, but if we truly believe that the struggle is important, we are more likely to lean into the pain, eager for the outcome that rewards at the end.

Sometimes, that outcome is one successful step.
Sometimes, we are rewarded by discovering a world of possibilities between the pages of a book.
And sometimes, after the struggle, we get to meet our very own flesh and blood.

Settling for My Dream

Four years ago, I was a junior in college, signing up to take the GRE, starting to think about grad schools for my master's, enjoying life. Looked forward four years from then, I saw myself finishing my master's this spring, looking for jobs, ready to go out and pay off student debt, find a place of my own - maybe Boston or San Diego, travel (eventually) to Italy and Greece.

I didn't always want to be a career woman.

Once upon a time, my sole goal in life (other than being a missionary to China like Gladys Aylward or a horse rancher) was to be a wife and mother. The problem with my dream was that high school ended, and no requisite husband showed up.
I took a year off of school to become a licensed piano teacher.
Still no applicant for husband.
Then I took two years of college while dating a young man.
That didn't work, so I got a job for a year.
Still no man.
So I went off to school again. "Plan A didn't pan out," I thought, so I moved on to Plan B.

Then, life blew up (quite literally) three and a half years ago, catapulting me back to Plan A.

Now, here I am, preparing for my hugely anticipated promotion to the position of mother.

From the outside, it might look as if I've settled.

Instead of looking for promising career opportunities, I am looking for new recipes for supper.
Instead of driving to classes or a job every day, I walk a few blocks to a part-time job that doesn't pay much above minimum wage and busily page through books of prenatal and postnatal information in my down time.
Instead of writing research papers and reading peer-reviewed journal articles, I am writing grocery lists and researching the best way to contain dirty diapers until they can be washed.

Yeah, that might look like settling.

But to me, it's living my dream!

An Open Letter to Parents

Dear Parents:

Parent your children.

Please.

I'm the cashier in the grocery store, or the girl stocking the shelves.
I'm your librarian, your piano teacher, your babysitter.
I care for your kids at summer camp, at church, in the youth group.
I don't have children, but I love kids!
And I consider myself privileged to care for and interact with yours.

Just don't make me do your job.

I don't want to teach your child manners: that's your job. I shouldn't have to tell them to respect my position as a lady, as their elder, or as an authority (if they are old enough to mouth off they are old enough to learn better). Don't expect me to calm your child's tantrums while you are present; I would not want to disrespect your position in their life by stepping into your shoes inappropriately - even if I represent an office of authority.

I realize that not having my own child means that I can't possibly understand the difficulties the parent/child relationship encounters in our world. But you can parent successfully!

I know because of the families who do.

I know it's possible because of the children who say "please" and "thank you" and who look me in the eye and smile when I say hello. I know because of children I see respect their parents - and me. I know it anew every time I gladly anticipate interacting with a family of pleasant, well-behaved youngsters.

Yes, every good child has her lesser moments.
Yes, every bit of proper training can dissolve in a particularly intense moment.
But what are the patterns? what is the pervading typicality?

You can do this.
You can raise a child to be a young adult.
You can cultivate your self-centered progeny to be caring and compassionate, individuals prepared with grace and poise for the slights and obstacles the rest of life will throw in their way.

I'm cheering for you!

Sincerely,
Me

In-Laws

Gasp.

The phrase that gets joked about as soon as the topic of marriage and family arises.
The words that immediately bring to mind mother-in-law stories.
Seemingly the bane of many and the delight of few.

Why?

Building a new marriage challenges every fresh-faced couple . . . so why do we complicate it with built-in, ready-made expectations of enmity with our spouse's family of origin?

I have been blessed with wonderful in-laws who have welcomed me and allowed my husband and me to begin life as our own family. Yet, it can still be interesting establishing new relationships - ones that will be with me the rest of my life - in a manner I have never before experienced.

I chose my husband, and in that respect I chose my in-laws. I regret neither. Actually, I quite enjoy both, and in this I find great joy! But what a strange tension to know that these are people I shall do life with from now on - and likewise, I suppose, for my husband with my original family.

Normally, I find a friendship with those with a great deal in common with me. My in-laws and I share a certain young man in common and, beyond that, we might or might not share anything else in common.

So what?

In my mind, I draw this out with the marriage/church analogy: marriage is to reflect the relationship of Christ to His Church, and to the extent that a marriage is healthy and loving, it is successful.

So, what about the in-laws?

Adam and Eve didn't have to work things out between their families in the first marriage ever, but God knew that marriage would bring in-laws into existence. (And, I believe, that just because they weren't part of the original creation, they are not necessarily lesser, bad, or lacking in things to teach us.)

We land ourselves with a group of almost-strangers with whom we will grow and experience life at the moment we say "I do." Should this picture life within the body of Christ?

Please, understand me: my biblical research is limited here. In fact, I haven't ever heard this connection made or read about it from any well-respected theologian.

BUT.

If Christ and the church :: the husband and wife, then the couple and their in-laws :: brothers and sisters in Christ?

Am I way off track here?

We grow and learn to love those in the Church for no other reason than that we have covenanted with the same God and made Him Lord of our lives. Here we are, all denominational persuasions, all opinionated on the proper color of church carpeting, all striving to embody a new life under new rules empowered by new grace every day.

Yes, we clash sometimes. After all, not everyone's mother made potato salad the same way. But in the essentials, the big stuff, the things that we can look at and say, "This is fundamental and necessary to Christianity as we know it," I would think that, done well, the Church can cross boundaries that no one else would find a reason to cross.

So, I covenanted with a man for the rest of our lives, and we each got another family as a bonus. A family that we probably wouldn't have known otherwise. A family on the other side of our typical boundaries that we build a bridge to on the basis of a marriage across them.

Because of my in-laws, I have already learned to add pasta to creamy pea salad, discovered the wonders of the bean pot, experienced deer hunting, and reaped the joy of two nephews. They're mostly surface issues, but they're a start of something much bigger, something I am only getting ephemeral hints of at the moment.

Obviously, this is a topic, an idea, that is still growing, evolving, stretching, twisting, and marinating inside me. That means that this post is probably rougher, less polished, than I would normally desire. That also means that I will probably be posting about it again . . .