Vitamin LOVE

Tonight, I have the sex talk with Jared.

Not overtly, of course. We've done that before. But gently, mulling it over in the neutral ground of a discussion about a book I'd asked him to read. It's called You're Almost a Teenager or something equally inane, and it deals with the life choices middle school kids make every day - including whether or not to stay virgins.

"So what did you think?" I ask my fidgety preteen, hoping to keep the dialogue short. "Could you summarize the book in one sentence?"

Jared screws up his face. "I don't know. Probably ... stay pure?"

"That's great!" I enthuse, pleased with his succinct synopsis. "Now, why does the author think kids should stay pure?"

Again, the deep-thinking face. Jared's wide, green-blue eyes briefly haze over, like fog passing by on the sea. "To have a better ... life?" he finally offers up, looking pained.

"That makes sense," I press deeper. "Tell me more." I know the book's author's a Christian, and I feel slightly piqued that God hasn't crossed Jared's mind. After a few more leading questions, Jared finally forms what I've been fishing for ... sort of.

"I should be pure because it's the right thing to do," he decides. "After all, I have to obey God. He's perfect."

I slowly exhale, the balloon of my hopes deflating with one released breath. This must send a warning sign to my son,  because he immediately snaps.

"Why is that so hard to understand?" he demands. "Why are you asking me all these questions?" His tone escalates from frustrated to rude as he speaks --  a microscopic monologue for most angry kids, but a massive oration for him.

Why, why, why?

His diatribe ends, but the question remains. Why can't I just tell him the right thing to say so we can kiss this pesky discussion good-bye?

Why, indeed.

The truth is, some things can't be taught - or learned - by repeating the right set of words. I long to share volumes about truth, love, and God - but I settle for a quick prayer and a reference to John3:16. 

Then I send him on a walk while we both marinate in our musings.

I, for my part, turn inward as I set to work making dinner. I realize anew that doing "the right thing" is a burden I've shouldered since childhood, something I hope my children never pick up. In an effort to please parents, teachers, and yes, even God, I discovered that DOING right felt deliciously similar to BEING right in the end. It felt so good that I forgot the simple truth: LOVING Right (the Right that "so loved the world" in the first place) really makes all the difference.

Oh, sure. I loved Jesus, loved Him deeply. And I knew (in my head, anyway) that He loved me, too. But I clung for dear life to countless other "right things" in order to ensure that I felt right, too! I was like a whore who, when presented with a respectable husband, claims him - but clings to her seedy lovers, as well. And I held on with a fierceness that, each time I encounter it even today, tells me just how deeply I claimed them as co-Saviors, equal to or better than the Christ who calls me Beloved.

What were my "right" things, my seedy lovers, you might ask? The list is rather mundane.

• ·         Church-going
• ·         Bible-reading
• ·         Smile-making
• ·         Fight-fleeing
• ·         Busy-staying
• ·         Thin-remaining
• ·         Yes-saying
• ·         Home-maintaining
• ·         Forehead-tapping before every meal

Okay, that last one's a joke. But it's no more silly than some of the things I could add to this list. Things like "canning even when I really should take a break" or "making sure my kids leave a good impression" or "never buying baby carrots."

Take your pick, fill in the quotes with anything you like, even "Keeping the Ten Commandments Just So." The silliness factor just won't disappear. That's because DOING right (even for Jared's noble reason, "BECAUSE GOD SAYS SO") never equals BEING right before God. Scour the Bible start to finish and you'll see. What God wants - wants desperately enough to die for - is a responsive, unfiltered love from His creations. Nothing more, and certainly not a whit less. (Micah 6:8, Matthew 22:37, Luke 9:23, 1 John 4:16)

THIS - this love-desire - is why I heave a small sigh upon hearing Jared's response to my questions. This is why I resort to prayer instead of preaching. And this is why, just as I send him out for his walk, I am primed to see a tiny spark of the divine.

Just as he steps into the laundry room to find new batteries for his headlamp, his little sister, Summer, appears on the scene. She's probably like a moth to the flame a potential conflict in the works.

"I wish my brother could go with me," Jared mumbles from around the corner, and I have a sneaking suspicion he's unnerved by the dark.

"Ethan can't come," I respond. "he has homework."  Suddenly, I feel like a heel for sending him out, all alone. "Maybe Summer would go with you instead?" I cast a hopeful glance in her direction.

"Go where?" She raises her eyebrows while Jared grumbles that he's sure she won't come.

"Around the loop," I respond, trying to keep the hope from my voice. "Do you want to?"

Summer's face falls. Jared's potential disappointment strikes like a tiny knife in my guilty heart.

"He doesn't want to go alone," I tell her softly. Then, squelching the demon in my head that urges me to push harder, I screw my face into nonchalance, and stare woodenly into my pot of soup.

A small pause. And then: "Sure! I'll go with you, Jared!"

My heart leaps.

Together, the siblings set out. One silently brooding over the mystery of Mom and her questions. The other blissfully free, happy to walk with a boy who hadn't even believed she would come. In the end, though, they both returned beaming - alive with the warm joy of a dark road, walked together.

No, Summer didn't have to come along on that walk. But she wanted to. Not because Jared showed himself worthy or even acted as though he'd enjoy having her. But purely out of love for her brother.

It's this selfless love that brings a smile to Jared's face, prompts him to praise her for her generosity, and inspires him to mirror that love with kind actions of his own later on.

And this is the divine spark of the night. This is how I view my faith. It starts with Love. Love grows it strong. And Love -- not my right actions -- keeps it strong to the end (John 10:28, Jude 24),

Yes, there are many lesser things I've left behind on this walk of faith -- my religion, my career, my pride (at least the top layer, anyway), my entitlement, and my claims to "rightness" -- along with my fear of baby carrots.  But the one thing I cling to still is the One who holds tight to me. Everything else just can't compare.

"I consider all things a loss compared with the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ my Lord." (Philippians 3:8)

Vitamin Tom

I am so grateful for my church family! But today I want to think about my pastor and his family. I'm driving home from a wonderful visit with mom in Spokane. I had all these hours in the car, and I was just feeling the need for some teaching. I shot Tommy phone call, it was just uploading the sermon from this morning. So I had the pleasure of hearing the sermon I missed while I was frantically scouring thrift store clothing racks for treasures. What a gift! I am so blessed to know the Rush family. Truly encouragers in our faith, they are. I pray God listens them up every day, just as they lift up others. When Eric, from Desert light Church in Albuquerque, said he knew God was sending us here to provide us with family, I do believe God had this church and these people in mind. Praise you, Lord, for filling our hearts with good things. How ceaselessly I delight in your mercy!

Vitamin Kristen

I am so grateful this morning for all the Kristins in my world. But one in particular has made my day. I'm driving through the early morning sunrise right now, headed to Spokane for some time with my mom. Chris, my fantastic, amazing spouse, went out to warm up the car for me this morning just to be nice. I am an hour and a half or more down the road, and was just on the phone with my friend Kristen. We were discussing Sunday school, because she and I take turns leading every month. Chris tried calling and while we were on that phone call. So I hung up and called him back. Lo and behold, the keys dangling in my ignition are his keys. And I dutifully packed my own in my purse earlier this morning. His unlooked for act of kindness turned into a horrible moment when he realized he had no way to get Jared to school or himself to work. For me to turn around and bring the keys back would cost an extra three hours of the day. For him to call the locksmith would be so costly and probably a time waster too. But because I had just been on the phone with Kristen, I remembered that usually have an extra car and have recently loaned it out to some friends. One quick call and our whole dilemma was solved! Kristen is off work today, and so eager and willing to go out of her way to help. And what's more, it's not even that far out of her way. She was already planning on stopping by our house to get the Sunday school notebook. I suppose this post shouldn't be titled vitamin Kristen, but vitamin Christ. How does he do it? Take all the snagged and disconnected parts of our life and we them into something so intentionally, amazingly beautiful. It really does seem like even our mistakes and feelings are almost just what he wanted so he could prove his glory. It's pretty awesome to have a reason to praise him this morning instead of a reason to be rate ourselves. Now, I wonder how I would feel if things had worked out quite so smoothly? Could I praise him just as fully? Now that's a question worth pondering for the next 100 miles.

Edit: I wanted to mention that visiting with Kristen about this reminded me of my desire to have a more noble character. God was giving me a good example of a strong character in her response to our need. So often when people have needs, and they are outside my normal schedule or expectations, I become overwrought and shut down.  I think I even resent them sometimes. It's weakness. Selfishness. Thank you, God, for giving me someone to look up to this day. Thank you for being the best example of all.

Vitamin ride

It's been a long time. So much has happened. But will just focus on this moment. The moment I am driving home after dropping my boy at school.v he goes for one class every morning all week long. The drive to get there is a short one, but oh what a joy it is. After the initial hassle to get in the car and situated, we ride together and read. The book we read is usually so interesting that we make it through one or two sentences before stopping to chat. I love those chats. I love the boy I share that with. And I love the man who wrote the book we read even more. The Bible is so timeless that we can study it in any form, for any length of time, with any age level, and come away blessed. I pray that Jarrod finals as much blessing as I do in the pages we study together. Truly, these rides and this read are a highlight of my day.

Vitamin Defeat

There comes a day in each gardener's summer when nothing remains but defeat. In my summer, anyway. It's inevitable. And this year, the raspberries staged my surrender. So carefully I had pruned them. Pulling each stringy imposter, the suckers that steal water and space, I had created a masterpiece. Docile plants, lined up like soldiers, tied to their guide wires for emphatic good measure.

We're the ones in control here. Don't forget it.

But come August, no matter my work in the spring, the berries look always the same. Scraggly things, lolling at odd angles in the sun, ignoring my glare as I pass through their gauntlet with care.

How do they do it? Transform in a season from domestic to Amazonian and strangely unnerving. What's their reason?

It's subversive. I debate their worth from my front room. They've beat me ... again.

And then I discover what they've really been hiding.

Berries - a surprise harvest - hover beneath each errant leaf. It seems that this outgrowth of brambles, unlooked-for and scorned, had reasons I could not have planned for.

I harvest in silence.

Oh yes, it is my defeat. But victory would have tasted so much less sweet.

the presidential
debate drones, and my hot cup
of tea fades to warm.

Vitamin short

New idea people. I am not finding or creating much space for this sort of things so we will go with Haiku for awhile see if that's more manageable. I accomplish so very little beyond homeschooling that my creative juices rarely simmer, much less boil to the surface. But I am content. Maybe Nathan's a better vitamin title for this page. Vitamin Content. Because I am... In it all. Life is short and it's okay for me to spend this season of it serving so intensely...there's eternity, after all, in which I will someday bask. Just praying for balance to make sure I am not burning out in the mean time... And now, the Haiku...

It's good, when I'm sick,
And comforting, too, to eat
Some Dubliner cheese.