Social network

Philip and I watch "The Social Network" the other night.  Pretty interesting movie. 

What struck me was the Ecclesiastes vibe that ran through the whole thing.

Here is a guy (Mark Zuckerberg) who is brilliant and creative.  Who worked hard to create Facebook.  And made a boatload of dough doing it.

And how useless it all is.

Has FB contributed to our prayerfulness?  Brought people to Christ?  Fed the hungry?  Healed the sick?  Clothed the naked?  Placed the orphan in a family?

Nope. 

Now, I do use FB.  I enjoy catching up with friends and talking, even virtually, with folks who don't wet their pants.

But I hope my life matters for more than that.  That it is more than a striving after the wind.  Because in the end, this world is just a breath.  And Mark Zuckerberg's billions and my more modest thousands and the poor man's pennies will all be gone.  And all that will remain is what we have done for and through Christ.

For real

So my friend was watching me change Leah's diaper and says, "Oh, those are so cute.  But they really make your baby pee more.  I mean, you've changed her like 3 times and I've only changed my baby once."

Um, yeah.

Your baby pees just as much.  It's just that the paper diaper changes the pee into those weird little gel beads.  So it doesn't seem like your baby is wet.

For real.

Regrets

My husband remarked the other day that he has very few regrets, while I have many.  It's not that I have made that many more mistakes than he, it is just that he moves on quickly.

I tend to ruminate over past failures and fantasize about what my life would be like if I'd chosen a different path at various crossroads.  If I had faced my opportunities armed with the knowledge I have now instead of the understanding I had at the time. If I had known how much a sin would cost me before I succumbed to temptation.  If I had seen the potential good in certain choices and counted the benefits worthy of the cost.

But I can't go back.  I can't wallow in what might have been.  I can't wiggle my nose and create an alternative reality.

But I can use the regrets of yesterday to make better, wiser choices today.  To act more slowly and carefully.  To heed the still, small Voice that cautions and guides.

And I can serve a God Who makes all things new.  Who is not surprised by my choices.  Whose plan cannot be foiled by my foibles. Whose providence is bigger than my propensity for foolishness.

I think it's a case of casting our Maker in our image again.  I get upset when family/friends/kids "mess up" and it alters my plans.  I have to work around the changes.  But God has foreknowledge.  He already has a plan worked out for me.

He has designed me for His glory and His plans will be accomplished.  And that is something I can revel in.

Altars

So the last two weeks were a gaping void in which I was constantly doing one of two things:  working or coughing.  (Sometimes both.  Because I'm a mom and I can multitask.)

But I'm doing better.  The holiday work-a-thon is over and my pneumonia is clearing.

And I've been thinking about Christmas.  Several of my sweet and well-meaning friends do not celebrate.  They are getting into the Jewish roots of Christianity and have rejected Christmas and Easter, saying that they are just "Christianized" versions of pagan celebrations.  And that they aren't even in the Bible.

Which is fine.  If the Holy Spirit convicts them about this, then who am I to judge?

But for me, both the holidays are altars.

God was really into altars in the Old Testament. 

Every time something super nifty happened (crossing the Jordan, wrestling with God, etc), God told His people to build an altar to remember.  A physical reminder of an encounter with an invisible God.

And if there is anything in this world worth remembering it is the incarnation of our infinite God and the sacrifice He made for us. Two times a year when we should stop and say, "Wow," and just marvel in His goodness.

What other altars would you make in your journey?  Are there any special times when you remember God's amazing acts?   Any times when you've pulled stones from the river and made a memorial to God's intervention?

Birthdays are a big one I think of.  Sure, they can be commercialized, stress-filled celebrations of materialism and white sugar.  But they can be altars too.  Reminders that God intervened in my life and gifted me with six amazing kids.  Reminders that His voice saying "yes" is bigger than any doctor's voice saying "no."

I think our biggest problem with holidays is not that they exist.  It is that we've forgotten what they are for.  Christmas, Easter, birthdays, etc should be days reflecting God's glory.  Where we ponder the provision of a mighty Savior.  As always, it is a heart issue when we really come down to it.

Carrots for Christmas

Not like this:

Like this:

I want my kids to be motivated to finish their school work and do their chores.  But I don't want to pay them for every little thing, let them watch oodles of TV or play hours of video games in exchange.  So for Christmas I bought some carrots (in the form of board and card games) for my little donkeys. 

So far we've played these games: Loot, Sleeping Queens, Rat-A-Tat-Cat, Haba Animal Upon Animal Stacking Game, Wig Out!, and Too Many Monkeys.  All winners!  The only one that the kids were kind of meh about was Monza - by HABA.  My plan is to promise them 30 minutes of game time after each school day, when all chores are done.  (And some of the games will hone their math and reading skills - shhhh!)

So what are your favorite family games?  We have a few more new ones (thanks Grandpa Bill/Grandma Cindy and Grandma Jean/Grandpa Warren!) to try, but we love hearing about new ones.

Part two

So I was mulling around about my last post as I tried to sleep last night (Philip had taken the five older kids on a camp out, so it was just me and Leah around here.  And I never sleep well when Philip is gone).  And I realized that the dancing lady at church doesn't have a testimony any more dramatic than my own.

Maybe in the world's eyes her deliverance seems more profound, but in truth, we are all miraculously ransomed back from Hell if we have chosen to become His disciple.

She just "gets it" more than most of us do.  Because we have deluded ourselves.  We have created a man-made hierarchy of sin that allows us to say one person's hellhole was worse than another.  That one of us more desperately needed God than the other.

But the fact is, we were all depraved.  We were enemies of God.  Apart from His hand of redemption, there is no good thing in us.

I'm reading an interesting book: Radical: Taking Back Your Faith from the American Dream.  I'm only a few chapters in (I've heard that it becomes more controversial later, so I can't endorse the whole thing yet), but I wholeheartedly agree with his depiction of our condition before God and his indictment of American Christianity.  He writes, "You are an enemy of God, dead in your sin, and in your present state of rebellion, you are not even able to see that you need life, much less cause yourself to come to life."

We want a self-help Christianity.  We want salvation on our terms.  I've heard so many altar calls that shill Jesus as "the man with the answers who can make your life better."  But that is NOT Biblical.  The Bible says that we can expect persecution as we follow Christ, and that being refined and made into the image of the Son can be painful.  The Word says that anyone who is considering following Him must count the cost (all that you are/have) before making the decision.

But we have cooked up a milquetoast Jesus and a watered down Gospel.  Walk into any Christian book store and you will see smiling "evangelists" on book covers declaring how Jesus has a great plan for you, and that if you just follow 8 easy steps your life and afterlife will be hunky dory.

I'm not denying that He has an amazing plan for each of us.  I am floored when I realize that God created me, amongst the billions on this planet, and prepared a destiny for me. 

But that is not the meat of the Gospel.  That is the icing on the cake.  The truly amazing thing is that while I was dead in my sin, He rescued me.  He came down and bore the just wrath of the Father for my sin before I even took my first breath. 

And that's what the dancing lady at my church realizes.  Her eyes are clearly open to her own sin and the extravagant grace that has been poured out upon her.  I pray my eyes can be just as open.

Undignified

So there's a lady at my church that I'm always a little bit embarrassed for.

She's a little too loud.  And a little too flamboyant.  And dresses a little too young for her age.  And she praises a little off key and "amen"s a little too often and dances a little crazy.

And I always kind of wanted to shush her.

Until I heard her story.

How she was deeply addicted to drugs.  And sold her body to buy them.  And was estranged from her children.  And how she nearly died in her pit.

Until she was amazingly, completely, totally delivered by God.  How He drew her from the miry clay and set her feet upon a rock.

And I felt like Michal.  Who was ashamed of David when he danced before the Lord as they returned the Ark to Jerusalem.  And was barren.

And I repented and asked God to forgive me and not let me be barren in spirit because I was ashamed of someone else's joy and abandon before the Lord.  

Hopefully I've learned my lesson, but I know that tendency is always there.  To be critical of others because I am secretly jealous.  Because I wish I could be that free in worship.  I wish I could dance and not be concerned about what those around me think.  But I always hold back.

Maybe when I'm old and gray I'll feel free to be the crazy lady who sings too loud because she knows the pit her Savior has drawn her from.  But I really hope that day comes much sooner.