Apologizing can crush hearts

It's amusing to me how one of my initial language desires when learning Chinese was one of my "filler words" for awkwardness.  

"I'm sorry"

I guess I felt that if I couldn't learn anything else, I wanted to learn how to be polite.  The phrase that brings comfort after accidentally brushing up against someone, forgetting a person's name, changing my mind when ordering food or requesting a small favor. 

When hearing what I actually wanted to use the phrase for, my Chinese teacher gave me a blank look and just said "We don't really apologize for things like that.  With those things you didn't do anything wrong." Hmmm...

Why am I so insistent on clinging to the proverbial cushion to my conversations?  How many times do I actually say I'm sorry for things that do not warrant an apology?  

When I first came to China and was getting used to having a guard open our gate for us, I remember my conversations to that man looking something like this:

"Duibuchi...mafan ni....duibuchi...feichang xie xie.....zaijian" with a BIG smile.  

(I'm sorry...don't mean to bother you...so sorry...thank you SO MUCH.....bye :) :) :)!)

This man sat all day to open that door for people.  Why do I need to apologize for asking him to do exactly that?  Was it a nervous rambling that was responding to his grumpy exterior?  Was it my personal fear that he might not actually open the gate for me?  Was it my subconscious chatter from 21 years of being raised to be "courteous?"  Or was I just proud that I new some Chinese, so gave him an earful of practice?  

No matter what the truth behind the motive, this mindless babble needs some serious revisiting.  Cause I'm a wife and a mom...and nervous babbling can hurt hearts.

Now having a baby, I find myself already unearthing the subconscious apologies.  Saying "I'm sorry" because my daughter gives strangers a poker face no matter how hard they try to make her smile.  Apologizing when the only sound she knows to make is an ear piercing deafening scream.  Or when she's grumpy in public.  Or is the only one crying in the baby photo shoot.  The list goes on.  But why oh WHY am I apologizing?  

When Nora is old enough and makes willful sinful actions that warrant an apology, then sure, I will encourage her to say she is sorry.  Even if she accidentally does something that may have hurt someone, I will hopefully model and train her to apologize.  But may I never apologize for her because she is "embarrassing me."

I can get away with it now because she's a baby and doesn't fully understand my words.  But I want this to resonate with me before my words can cut into her sensitive little heart.  I don't want to apologize for my daughter's awkward fashion choices when she's a teen, her driving skills, or sloppy way she eats food at the table.  I don't want to apologize if she has fears of Chinese people touching her, wants to wear all of her clothes backwards for a year, or enjoys picking her nose and eating what's inside.  Yes, some of these things may need a bit of redirection.  But that can be in private...where no one needs to notice that I "disapprove."  For I would be humiliated if I saw someone look at their friends and apologize for me.

So for those things that don't really warrant an "I'm sorry", may I respond to them instead with a smile, a grace-filled exhaled breath, or no acknowledgement at all.  For that's who she is.  And for right now...it's normal.  

While this post is getting long, I didn't want to leave out the beautiful blessings that are helping to mold me into the mom I want to be.  While in China I get to live in a foreign community of women who have kids.  I get to watch how they shine Jesus through their love that endures all, bears all, and believes all...and quietly...with no apologies needed.  And it's beautiful.

The mother who breathes calmly without a hint of agitation as her toddler screams at the top of her lungs.

The beauty in gentle whispers spoken to toddler ears, reluctant to share toys.

The eye level re-direction toward a young son's inner rage.

The subtle shake of the head that is acknowledged across the room.

Even the nose kisses given after a ferocious chin bite.

It's the beauty in these moments that remind me we don't need to apologize when our kids are strange, moody, or unpredictably disobedient.  For we are all unashamedly enduring it together.

Fattened ox OR love

I flipped open my bible, unsure of where to exactly start reading.  My eyes immediately jolted to what was already underlined and highlighted on the page. 

Better is a dinner of herbs where love is than a fattened ox and hatred with it.

I didn’t even need a complete minute for those words to sting and resonate with me.  This is Solomon’s version of the Mary and Martha story.  The one who invests in hearts versus the one invested in the perfected tasks.  We've all heard it and grasp how we should be like Mary.  But for people who like lists, tasks, perfection, and presentation, we find so much joy in imitating Martha…preparing the fattened ox, NEVER accepting a dinner of herbs to stand in the way of our reputation.  I struggle right at this moment.  While I’d like to say that I can bring a proverbial “fattened ox” to the table with love at the same time, it's in the unmet expectations for that to be thrown out the window really fast. 

Moments when the darn oven will never pre-heat, my dear husband forgot the main ingredients at the market, my daughter’s crying the entire time I cook, or all of my measuring spoons are at the bottom of the sink piled high with dishes.  At these moments I have to choose……fattened ox or love? 

Fattened ox or love.  I hear it chanting in my head on too many occasions now, and I can’t seem to ignore it. 

Sometimes we all just need to cuddle in the chaos, eat corn flakes (cardboard) for dinner, or walk to bed on a carpet of clothes.  Maybe even turn off the kitchen light knowing there is a counter and sink full of dishes, or refuse to fix all the slanted picture frames on the wall.  

For all you stay at home moms out there, 4:30 is my mass crazy run around time of the day.  It’s the time to do a “quick sweep” of all the craft supplies and fabric, actually look in the mirror and see what I look like, and get dinner started before my man walks in the door.  If time escapes me and he walks in to the disaster strewn everywhere (much like my hair), I find myself incessantly apologizing even before “I love you” is off my lips.

“Who cares?  Just come and lay on the bed while I change my clothes so we can catch up about the day.  We can get started on dinner together after that.”

That man sometimes…I tell ya…he doesn't even know how much his words are sent from Jesus.

So yeah, if you ever come over my house and the place is a wreck and we're eating cereal for dinner you can say to yourself "she chose love today."   Perfecting Christ’s love in my heart last a whole lot longer than that fancy recipe.

Set free to live free

Ugh.  I just finished the most intriguing, heartbreaking, confusing, aggravating, and exhausting memoir I've every laid my eyes on.  It's right up there with Frank McCourt's Angela's Ashes as Jeannette Walls takes you on the journey through her intriguingly dysfunctional childhood.  

As a new mother, I was warned when borrowing this book that at some points I would want to throw it across the room.  And yes...this dear friend was right.  Oddly enough, what made my heart burst the most was not the moments of neglect, the father's drunken rages, or even how many times their family just picked up and moved for the heck of it.  Out of all the deep sadness, what I couldn't seem to fathom was how many times something that could rescue them out of poverty, starvation, or eviction was simply wasted....over, and over and over again.

A 2 carat diamond ring that could have put food on the table was hoarded away so that the mother could just sit and marvel at it's beauty.

An entire paycheck spent on beer and cigarettes while the children were left home eating butter, the only thing left in the fridge.

A million dollar property just sitting there unused or sold while the owners wasted away in a shack with no indoor plumbing.

Even at the end of the book when the children grew up and had flourishing lives of their own, the parents chose to remain in the same neighborhood but homeless.

It was in these moments that I wanted to throw the book and scream out "LOOK WHAT YOU COULD HAVE, AND YOU'RE WASTING IT!"  

(Deep breath)...Lauren...take the plank out of your eye.  

Right.  These were not fictional characters that I was judging.  This was a memoir for crying out loud.  A real story.  These were real people.  When desiring to seek holiness, condescending thoughts like this will get you nowhere.  

If God were in a sense reading my life story would he want to throw the book down and yell out "LOOK AT WHAT I HAVE GIVEN YOU, AND YOU'RE WASTING IT!"?  Well, of course I can't picture him yelling at me like that, but it's worth a mental picture to wake me up.  Over and over and over again I forget that I was set free to live free.  How many times am I just like Jeannette's parents choosing to live in poverty while they have a million dollar property to sell? 

I am EXACTLY like them when I refuse Christ's grace and instead choose to struggle with the same sin issues over and over and over again.

I am EXACTLY like them when I even entertain the thought that my life before Christ's saving power was better than striving for holiness.

I am EXACTLY like them when I am offered a life free from guilt, shame or fear, and willingly choose to carry the baggage of anxiety instead.

I am EXACTLY like them when Christ offers me supernatural peace and I hoard it away for another day instead of resting in it right then.

Even though these parents seemed so dysfunctional, selfish, and crazy as I was reading, I am now so humbled that Christ looks at me the same.  I am just as dysfunctional, selfish and crazy when I don't live in the FULLNESS of Christ.  Thank goodness that he doesn't just "throw the book down" as he watches me squander away the goodness He offers me daily, and instead showers me with MORE grace...over, and over, and over again.  

For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.

-Galatians 5:1

Choose to be inspired.

Being inspired by someone can be a mental discipline.  

I knew my brain needed some strong rearing when I began seeing awesome things in the life of others and instead of being intrigued and in awe, the only scrap of reflection I could seem to muster was INTIMIDATED.  

There it was.  Strangling the only motivation I had left, which was already reserved for the menial tasks of the day let alone the extravagant.  We've all been there.  Succumbed to the projects of Pinterest, the reflections of blogs, the recipes of a friend.  We let them drag us on like a carrot in front of a horse without any promise of making us happier or satisfied.

When I first got married and began teaching, I let this carrot drag me on tirelessly.  I would shrivel up with inadequacy every time I looked at another teacher's blog.  "I will NEVER be able to do that" I would sulk to myself and occasionally speak out loud.  My dear husband would sometimes lovingly "ban" me from sites like Pinterest and blogs for a time since he grasped the backlash on my weak heart.  In my weary efforts of becoming all I could be as a teacher, there was no time in the day or energy left in my body to acquire much culinary skill beyond a simple pasta or chicken dish.  

The four years until now are quite fuzzy.  Sure I have many beautiful memories and a huge pile of cherished moments that I still cling to.  Yet through pregnancy and what I have journeyed thus far as a mother have revolutionized me...and my mental health. 

I still chase that carrot stick, yes.  It's just in me to keeping going and wanting to be better.  But now there is joy in the striving.  A child-like glee in acquiring new skills that I "should have" known how to do years ago.  

This all kind of reminds me of a project I did for my grad work.  I was studying the difference between two types of people - people from a fixed mindset and those from a growth mindset.  People (or students in particular) from a fixed mindset are the ones who don't think intelligence is something you can change.  If you're smart you're smart, and if you're not you're not...so there's really no point in trying.  Yet people from the growth mindset feel that your brain can continue to keep on developing and growing if you keep pushing it.  In life I see this division in people and it digs deeper and stretches further than intelligence.

Well I never learned to cook before I got married, so I guess this is it.

All through college my complete bedroom set was hot pink with fuzzy pillows, so I clearly don't know how to decorate a house in a mature way.  

For years I was a Facebook mooch and just looked at what other people were doing, so why start posting pictures now?

I have never been "known" for being the reflective type so I probably shouldn't share my feelings online.

Note: All of the above are examples from my life.  

I think the enemy has a hay day when people see their life through a fixed mindset.  I mean, when other people are merely intimidating, we stand still.  We stop moving and sulk in our "fixed fate".  Yet when people are inspiring, we see the possibility that we can be that way too.  Just because we weren't that way before, who says we can't now?  

Over the last couple of months, I have begun altering my perspective.  Through the discipline of being inspired by people, I have found such joy in new recipes, crafty projects, home renovations, and parenting tricks.  So much has been gained from freely releasing my self-acquired chains of intimidation.

The people that inspire me the most are the ones who find a way to create something out of nothing.  Sometimes in the crafty sense, but more so in the learned skill or rekindled lifestyle way. 

-Friends who realize that as an adult they don't know how to swim so they look at tutorials on youtube and teach themselves!

-Sisters who desire to learn how to cut hair like at a salon so she buys the materials and figures it out herself.  From this she went to cut hair for her whole entire dorm!

-Leaders who see the need to return a gas-powered moped back to its home 2 hours away but don't know how to drive one. She then takes 30 minutes to be taught how to and then courageously rides the steep, mountainous, and busy Philippine roads all the way back!

-Parents who become "empty nesters", but then open their hearts up to overseas ministry!

-Couples who watch as their own marriage is crumbling but then choose to try and redeem that which was broken through Christ.

-People like Paul, who are first opposed to the Gospel but then choose to abandon the labels of their past to pursue Christ fully and freely!

What an inspiration they are to me!  Each of these people (whether they know it or not) have encouraged me to press on, learn new things, not be stuck with who I "thought" I was, and keep trying.  

Let's dangle that carrot stick of inspiration in front of each other as to say:

"Keep pressing on!"

Small things with GREAT love.

After 17 hours of flights, connections and layovers we made it to the Philippines…4 month old daughter in tow. 

I had great visions of gallivanting off to the surroundings slums to bring joy through Nora’s little chubby cheeks.  I dreamt of going to the orphanage, allowing her to be clobbered by these children who have nothing but great joy and contentment.  I fashioned pictures in my head of what it would look like to go to many places with happy baby alongside me.  I couldn't wait to do all of these GREAT things.  And then the humidity, heat, and intense over-stimulation swallowed my precious daughter.  It clobbered her energy more than the street kids touching every inch of her pale skin.  I soon realized that our “outings” had to be squeezed in the time frames surrounding the 4-5 naps that she wanted each day.  Just one day in, I found myself stuck on campus only a baby monitor distance away from her sweating body flopped on someone’s bed for yet another nap.

As I spent that first day searching for some sort of redefined “purpose”, I realized that in my searching I was missing the point.  What was I searching for?  Some sort of purpose that measured up to what everyone else was doing?  Or was it a purpose that looked like I was actually here for a good enough reason?  Did I fear being judged for my appearance of just “sitting around”? Was I afraid of looking naive in bringing an infant on this type of a trip?  

Be still my child...quiet your restless soul and WAIT for me to show you.

You need to stop the searching and just start loving…right where you are.  Whether it is sitting by the poolside, or standing in the kitchen, or walking around the campus to stroller soothe your  little one.  Surrender the approval that what you are  doing is worthwhile and start soaking up the moments to love inside the gated walls of the center. 

These words pounded in my head and on my heart.

Looking back, this trip was different for me largely because it was more of  me grasping the value of love beyond all the more noticeable ministries.  I began seeing that doing small things with GREAT love was just as kingdom worthy, Lord pleasing, and a fragrant offering of His grace to those around me. 

God so beautifully placed precious people to love on right inside the gates of the ministry center.  And I’m so happy my heart and eyes were open to see them. 

No.  We were not able to make it to any mass feedings this year.   But we were able to snuggle and rap with this awesome kid James Michael. (Btw, keep praying for him.  He has had surgery to remove his tumor but endures painful headaches in the recovery process.)

No.  We couldn't handle more than 10 minutes on the street without massive over-stimulation, but we could spend endless time with Karen and her son as she awaited the day of her surgery.

No. We didn’t make it to the school to do crafts and help tutor and read with the students.  But we did get to bring the crafts to little Jannika the day after she was rescued from Tacloban.

\

And no.  I wasn't able to go visit the children from Journey for Hope that I had bonded with last year, but I was able to see one of the boys I met last year get baptized in the pool at the ministry center!  Here is he shouting "Jesus is Lord!".

Just when I began to feel claustrophobic and chained down, the ministries came to me.  May I remember this for when I return back to my own community in Shenyang.  I want to have this as a daily reminder that Jesus calls me to minister right where I'm at.  I need to stop searching and just start loving.  Loving in a big way is just as valuable as doing big things.

Even though some days I feel like I am only out of my house to go to the market and back, I hope my eyes can be opened to what is on the way.  The woman walking down the stairwell at the same time as me.  The man finding recyclables in the trash can.  The guard stoically poised in front of our gate.  The children who stop and peer into the stroller.  The ladies at the market who babysit for 2 minutes while I run up to the 2nd floor really quick.  All of these people!  May I not be blind to the opportunity of loving them while my heart can easily compare with the BIG things other people are able to do.  

I long to find beauty in the quiet.  The simple.  The whispers.  Even the things that go unnoticed.  For loving in secret and without a reward is almost the greatest joy...for the One whom we are really serving does see, and is pleased.

“Do small things with GREAT love.” – Mother Theresa

Where there are no children...

I just love reading the Proverbs.  They are the perfect way for people to begin mini reading plans since there are 31 of them and hey, there are 31 days in a normal month.  One for each day!  You'll never forget which Proverb to read. 

Okay...enough random musings...on with my point.

The other day I was reading and actually had a moment where I laughed out loud.  It followed quickly with my verbal affirmation of "SO TRUE!".  All you moms out there, I think if you just allow this verse to relate to you for a moment, enjoy getting a smile:

Where there are no oxen the manger is clean,

but abundant crops come from the strength of the ox. (Proverbs 14:4)

You see my laugh came right after the first line, because I couldn't help but associate that kind of mess to my own house.  But then my "so true" came immediately following the second line.  

Our life is full of these juxtaposed moments.  Moments that when compared to each other allow the positive outlook to win.  For the positive is the afterthought...what comes second...the last word.  

Where there are no oxen..

...began eventually lending itself to...

Where there are no children...

Wait?!  How dare I allow my mind to wander to such a thought?  But then I remember, it's not so much about the negative as long as I let my last word be that of a different perspective.  One full of gratitude -  redefining every tired and weary complaint.

So I made a few "verses" of my own.  Once I got going, it was pretty fun!

Where there are no children there is much sleep,

BUT much joy comes from seeing their smiles in the dark.

Where there are no children my to-do lists actually have a line through them,

BUT oh the beauty in slowing down each moment.

Where there are no children my social calendar is full,

BUT how rewarding it is to snuggle on the couch with our family of three.

Where there are no children my outfits match and I feel fashionable,

BUT how much more special it is to revel in the act of dressing up.

Where there are no children I can eat out and leave the house anytime I want,

BUT much knowledge has been gained and new recipes tried as I cook in my own kitchen!

Where there are no children my laundry load was MUCH smaller,

BUT how it melts my heart to hang up itty bitty baby socks.

My list could go on, but instead I'll save it for when I need something to help me while I wait ;)

Who knew there could be such beauty in the "BUT"? 

Just One Word

"FORGET NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS: JUST CHOOSE ONE WORD"

When I saw that a friend of mine had decided to take the 365 One word challenge, I felt inspired.  I instantly found myself brainstorming for one word that could sum up how I need to change, what I can work on, or what I can strive for.  Words like surrender, grace, and joy were the first ones that captured my attention.  As I let my mind ponder all through the day, it wasn't till I was fast in my REM cycle that night when it came to me.

WAIT 

Well...at least I was granted 6ish hours of shut eye cause there was no sleep to be had after that thought.  I lay there staring into the darkness as if the silence was going to clarify things for me.  WAIT?  What kind of word is that?  Maybe patience would be better...that's kind of like WAIT.  But no, I couldn't shake this particular word.  

I went back to the website http://velvetashes.com/my-lovehate-relationship-with-risk/ just to read on about this challenge, and saw that she noted "if [your word] doesn't scare you at least a little bit, it's probably not the right word."

You see, that word DID scare me....and not just a little bit.  While I would love to say I exude patience and excel at waiting on people or for things to happen, I'll just set the record straight right now.  I've never been very good at waiting...and it's embarrassingly immature.  When I'm walking behind someone slow in a crowded hallway, I'm quickly looking for a way to maneuver around them.  If I'm talking to someone and the wait time for their response goes beyond 5 seconds, I find myself repeating or altering my original question.  When we're heading out the door, I'm the one who is all bundled up resisting to tap my impatient foot while the other....ahem...person...is getting his things together.  The word WAIT is almost laughable to me as something to meditate on for a whole year!  Oh the things to learn!

Yet as I spent just one single day meditating on what this word encompasses, I found myself even more confident that this was in fact the perfect word for me.  Looking through my journal with all of my written insecurities and things repented in the year of 2013, I noted a few patterns.  I wanted a word that would help to conquer those sins that keep coming up like a dog returning to its vomit.  The sins that don't seem that bad, but actually destroy the very character God is molding.  The damage of no restraint or trust seemed to be a kiln to my clay like heart.  They held me fast, and left me hard...impenetrable...difficult to change.

As I scurried around at a pace that only seems logical for someone in an absolute rush, I missed the precious moments in the SLOW.  For in the stillness of the slow waiting and pauses of life, true beauty illuminates.  So for 2014 I'm setting my mind to the word wait.

I long to wait before speaking to make sure my hurtful words are restrained.  In time,  His peace and love will extinguish my flaming offensive darts.

I strive to wait and hear the whole side to a story before letting my mind race with judgement.

I crave to wait for food to cook all the way through that seems like its been in the oven forever! (true story...)

I want to wait and embrace each developmental stage of my precious daughter without always longing for the next.

I hope to wait patiently with poise for taxi's in the freezing cold without losing my cool.

I desire to wait for God's timing so I can reap his "soar like eagles" kind of rest.

I purpose to wait for stubborn, unpredictable and/or blocked internet speeds realizing that it is not...the...end...of the world.

My heart groans to wait for dear  loved ones and their hearts to change.  Although I realize He has more business with my own heart and that's probably why I don't recognize what he is doing with everyone else. Hmmm...

So yeah.  I'm spending 2014 to sit...soak...simmer...and marinate in this word.  Hopefully as I ahem...wait for this word to infuse my heart, I will see the beauty that was once a blur in all of my rushing.  For I don't want to miss the beauty of things that go slow - children developing, rush hour traffic, internet speeds, an eternity of winter, lasagna cooking, flowers growing, hearts being transformed, my own stubborn heart awakened.

Although this year I'm learning to wait, may I discover ways to productively wait.  I don't want to just spend my time waiting like a crazy person (counting, tapping my feet, or sighing).  Maybe I can come up with things like scripture to quote, songs to hum, making invisible lists of gratitude in my head, or praying for people.  

It's one thing to wait.  It's another thing entirely to wait well.  May I honor Him in the waiting.