christianity

What They Really Need

/ Walden World / Leave a comment

There’s a popular reel floating around on the internet with the caption , To you it’s just another ordinary day, but to them it’s their whole childhood.

At first glance, I agreed. After all, shouldn’t we seek to fill these moments with vibrant, creative splashes in an attempt to transform our everyday ordinary into extraordinary. The particular video I watched featured a perfectly polished mama making muffins with her tiny daughter(who somehow emerged from the kitchen unscathed!). I saw another one boasting the same sentiment featuring a little boy enamored by a new sensory bin carefully curated by his parents. The scenarios were enchanting, and [if I’m honest] a bit intimidating[read: guilt-inducing].Immediately I mentally inventoried all of our educational items and started to plan my own sensory experiences for the kids and our magical days. This wasn’t a bad thing. I’m not degrading the heart behind the message. It seems–at least to me– that these mamas are encouraging us all to stop and consider the brevity of each day with our precious ones. And it is true:what seems like a day full of chores and neverending parenting to us is their childhood. And of course I want my children to reflect on these formative years and remember the good. BUT a familiar call echoed in my mind as I considered this. In the midst of my pressing urgency to create a counterfeit magic for the kids, I remembered what was most impactful in my own foundational years. It wasn’t a perfect experience or day. It was all of the moments in between–hearing my mama’s voice permeate the house in her very ordinary task of washing dishes. Walking in to the inviting aroma of my dad’s food steaming from the kitchen after a draining rehearsal. Reluctantly accepting my mama’s embrace in the confusion of my teenage years because , “physical touch is important”. Watching through the window as my dad–weary from a long day’s work–whistled to the tune of the lawn mower. Drifting drowsily asleep to the sound of my parents sharing another silly story–laughing together in the living room after what must have been another full ministry day. I can vividly remember these moments, for these were the ones that filled our days. And I’m sure that there were magical moments, too. In fact, I know there were(this is why we make those photo albums, right?!)! But my most treasured times were the ones when life was just happening for all of us. It wasn’t always picturesque(and let’s be honest–social media isn’t an authentic portrayal of life anyway), and it wasn’t always comfortable. There were probably days when the call to shepherd my little soul seemed a challenge insurmountable. I probably did help my mama in the kitchen, and I guarantee I caused more chaos than calm(because baking with littles is MESSY)! And I’m sure that both of my parents strived to curate beautiful experiences to incite wonder and cultivate curiosity, but the most meaningful moments existed when I got to observe obedience in the lives of my parents.

They weren’t living to give me the perfect childhood. Instead, they were seeking to live for the glory of God. Loving me was a part of that, certainly. But it was only part of the whole.

redeemingmundane

I was not the center of their world then just as my children do not consume mine now. At the heartbeat of everything they did was the glory of Christ. This steadfast mindset pervaded our home and punctuated every thought. That ensured that even our most discouraging days were not without hope. If we bickered, there was reconciliation. If we faced hardship, there was a call to endure. If we failed(each other or in life) there was still peace.Even in our messiest moments, my parents could rest in light of God’s Gospel promises(and they were careful to instruct us in those promises, too). They would admit that it was imperfect(and no one can boast otherwise), but to me it was a stunning testament to God’s mercy and grace.

My children don’t need a tidy home, a perfect day adventuring or even a special shared experience with me as much as they need to be pointed to the Faithful God who created them. Of course, there is nothing wrong with enjoying fun-filled days or basking in the flow of a peaceful, engaging day. But let us not forget that in our hard, ugly moments(when your family’s rhythm is just off and the days feel long)–our Father remains the same.The beauty is there, too. He is just as pleased with us in the mundane moments as He is in our ambition to enliven other days. It is not because of us, but rather because of who He is(2 Tim. 2:13, Numbers 23:19,etc)

I’m so thankful for parents who modeled that in my beginnings(and still do now). It is good and right that we live every day to the glory of God(and sometimes that might mean your sensory boxes are ON POINT)! But on the other days, when you wrestle with feeling insufficient, rest in the freedom of living to this chief end:

We do not segment our lives, giving some time to God, some to our business or schooling, while keeping parts to ourselves. The idea is to live all of our lives in the presence of God, under the authority of God, and for the honor and glory of God. That is what the Christian life is all about.” – RC Sproul

“I am not what I ought to be, I am not what I want to be, I am not what I hope to be in another world; but still I am not what I once used to be, and by the grace of God I am what I am”
― John Newton

8 He will also keep you firm to the end, so that you will be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. 9 God is faithful, who has called you into fellowship with his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. - 1 Corinthians 1:8-9

If I Had Stayed[Lessons from Vermont]

/ Walden World / 2 Comments

A little over three years ago, our family moved from Rhode Island to Central Vermont. A job had opened up there for my husband, and we were thrilled at the opportunity he’d have to finish graduate school while also working full-time. Yes, it would be challenging. Yes, the days may be long. But it was the right move for us. The only problem is that we had to move in the span of 3 months. This meant tying up loose-ends where we were[with holidays thrown in amidst that] and then driving to a bitterly cold Vermont right in the beginning of the new year. I’m not sure I was prepared for exactly how cold it would be. I figured my frail Southern form had adjusted to the snow in Rhode Island, so this transition wouldn’t be hard at all…right?

But then the first snow fell. And it kept falling. For an entire day. And there was mud all over the floors of my new house. Plus it was an icy tundra!And the movers hit our mailbox because of the ice. It was dark and the snow stayed for…months. As a mama of two children under the age of 4, I was shocked and also felt taken hostage. We were stuck inside indefinitely(or at least, it felt that way)!

How would they expend energy everyday? How would my introverted heart find time to be alone when my husband was in quite possibly the busiest season of his life?!

I remember joking with a friend before our transition that I felt burned out socially and could cope for our season in VT without deep relationships. That would be 3 years. In hindsight, that’s a long time. But then friendship seemed like too much of an investment. We would simply survive and focus on family time.

Before we moved, my husband and I had the opportunity to connect with a local pastor and his wife. We figured we would seek to be faithful church members, but we wouldn’t have much bandwidth to have many deep friendships. Or at least, I didn’t. Plus, I was somewhat embittered by the cold. This was such a rural, frigid place. It seemed unlike anywhere I had ever been.A far cry from my very favorite residence–Southern California! I wondered why we had come in the first place. And if you had asked me, I probably would’ve told you that I hated it.

I actually remember thinking, “I wish we had stayed”.

redeemingmundance.com

For the course of those first few months, I remember feeling lonelier than I had ever been. We’d had deep friendships in Rhode Island, a church we loved and a house that seemed idyllic. But here we were, in dark, cold, icy Vermont.

And so, on that first Sunday when we made the half-hour drive to what would become our home-church—the “light in the valley” as it is so aptly named— I was grouchy. We walked in, and I tearfully recounted how I didn’t know anyone and we were out in the middle of nowhere. With snow-covered mountains and mud everwhere. These people had been here for years—most of them their entire lives. And I was this random outsider who clearly didn’t look at all like anyone else.

It felt hopeless.

I should stop here and say that I started this blog months ago. Even now as I am writing this, I feel differently. Where I once wrote that I’m not sure what changed I can now admit that I know exactly what changed. And it wasn’t me. I had resolved–or rather, the Lord reminded me– that the only way I might survive this wintry season of heart and weather was to press in. He is so kind to deal graciously with us in the midst of our stubborn sinfulness.

In my sinful stupor, the Lord reminded me to press in by His very example to join our uncomfortable, foreign, messy and cold world.

Redeeming the Mundane

In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:
6 Who, being in very nature[a] God,
    did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
7 rather, he made himself nothing
    by taking the very nature[b] of a servant,
    being made in human likeness.
8 And being found in appearance as a man,
    he humbled himself
    by becoming obedient to death—
        even death on a cross!

Philippians 2:6-8

The following week, still cold-but humbled–I was carting my 4 and 1 year-olds to a mommy’s group. And then to a small group with their dad. Over the course of the next few months, we began to learn their lives, we shared meals together, wept together, prayed together, laughed and sang together…

Before I knew it, three years had passed. This girl who had once said she never imagined staying in such a rural place ended up finding joy in the middle of such a challenging transition. We added two more littles to the gang. We planted gardens, hiked rivers, watched Daddy catching fish, explored markets—carefully saving trinkets and savoring local faire. We found a little bit of sweetness in every simple day. We endured the present contentedly and [by God’s goodness] learned to love where we had been transplanted.

We learned afresh to cherish [and prioritize] the local body of believers–the Church. And we humbly watched as these beloved friends regularly ministered to our little clan—whether it was through time together, time in God’s Word, sharing a meal[or a creemee on a breezy summer afternoon], or all of the little in-between oddities that make up living.

When faced with the opportunity to move elsewhere, we knew it was God’s will, but our hearts were saddened to think of leaving. This is never something I imagined admitting. And on our last day to worship alongside these precious saints, I looked on tearfully as we shared one final meal, prayed corporately and watched our children play–blissfully unaware of the impending change.

Standing in my new house all those years ago watching my daughters scale the packing paper mound, I never could’ve guessed how God would provide. But that’s the way it always goes, isn’t it?

Redeeming the Mundane

20 Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

Ephesians 3:20-21

I could recall countless stories of how God faithfully provided during our time there(neighbors who became some of our dearest friends, a homeschool community and afterward play dates where deep friendships were nurtured, shared holidays, snow days with friends.etc…). But for the sake of time and brevity, I’ll just say…

There is so much profound joy that I would not have known if I had stayed in Rhode Island…