When The Floor Only Looks Clean

It started back when we were selling the house and would get last minute showings when the house was always at its dirtiest.  Perhaps I used, "Mommy's a little stressed out right now," one too many times to excuse poor parenting and bad temper flares, but it has led to Mary regularly praying, "And please don't let Mommy be too stressed out today."  I'm not sure if she is really concerned about my stress or if she just knows that it's not to her benefit when Mommy is stressed and cranky.  Either way, she prays it so often that I started having a guilt complex.

At lunch today, when she thanked God for our food and requested of Him that Mommy not be too "stessdid out," I thought to myself, "I'm not stressed at all!  I've got everything under control today."  It was an entirely unneeded prayer.  After all, the day was ahead of schedule and any plans that I had were not fully necessary ones so I could abandon ship at any point.  The house was relatively clean and I was looking forward to some relaxation this evening with some fun plans in store.  No stress here!  Take that prayer request for someone who truly needs it, because I've got things under control here, God.

The girls began eating their lunch and I was sitting for the first extended period this morning, reading an article.  It started quietly enough, but I could tell Mary was instructing Colette on something that would soon escalate into a fight.  Apparently Colette was pushing two 1/2 inch pieces of abandoned string from some project into Mary's territory.  Maybe Mary had already sent them Colette's way; I'm not sure, but for whatever childish reason, it was causing them both angst to have the strings close to their plates. I told the girls to leave the strings alone and to not talk about them anymore.  "Just eat your lunch," I commanded.  It's a simple enough request, isn't it?

But no.  Apparently there was some danger or threat or contagion exemplified in these strings and all methods of territorial protections were being taken, including heavy breathing so as to blow the strings away.  Mary, pretending to be non-chalantly resting her hand on the table, cupped her hand over the strings.  I'm not sure why this made her feel secure since the battle seemed all about getting as far away from the strings as possible (without, of course, doing something reasonable like taking them to the trash or changing seats) and now her skin was a mere centimeter away from coming into contact with that which she so greatly feared.  Her older and wiser sister saw the vulnerable position she had put herself in and took full advantage by placing her hand atop Mary's and then pressing downward.  This sent Mary into a flurry of tears and Colette assumed full innocence complete with wide eyes and the perplexed look that says, "I have no idea what her problem is!"

I lost it.  I mean, I really lost it.  Scary Mommy style; like neck veins bulging and eyes popping and teeth gritting.  It bubbled up out of me out of nowhere with no excuse of being tired or cranky or stressed, but just that I was blown away by the stupidity of the entire argument. I screamed about how stupid they were both behaving and we don't use that word so they jolted as I repeated it and told them it was warranted because that was exactly how they were acting.  I begged for understanding of what threat the strings posed without waiting for explanations.  I stomped my foot and demanded that the strings be immediately disposed of and threatened that if I heard one more sniffle or huff or argument regarding the TWO STUPID STRINGS that I would send them to individual rooms where they would spend the rest of their afternoon leaving me alone.  And then I gasped for breath after my tirade and called lunch to an end while the children scattered with their tails between their legs, leaving me to feel lousy as could be.

I sat on the floor in the corner of my kitchen contemplating how I allowed myself to completely lose my cool like that when I really wasn't in my usual vulnerable states that lead to lost temper- hungry, tired, stressed, cranky.  Everything had been going so well today.  I had spent the morning cleaning and was feeling rather accomplished, but as I sat on the floor that had been mopped only an hour before I got a close-up view of the grime that had been missed.  I thought the floor was clean, but it really wasn't clean at all.  There were crumbs wedged in corners, and fresh ones from lunch, and sticky spots that had just streaked from mopping instead of being removed.  From this point of view, up close, it didn't really look clean at all and I had been feeling pretty good about the work that I had done just a little bit ago.

Are you making the connection I did or should I paint it a little clearer for you?  I felt an awful lot like that floor in that moment of self-loathing.  From a distance, I can put on a pretty good appearance of being squeaky clean but when you get up close and personal, the view is really quite gross.  Oh, I do my regular housekeeping- church attendance; Check!, Bible study; Check!, Prayer; Check!, but sometimes... a lot of the times... it's like the mop-job I did that morning, just wiping over a surface that's hiding lots of buildup and needs a hands and knees kind of clean.

So this is my hands and knees kind of clean.  It's not an easy job to expose to you how easily I am angered and how quickly that sin comes to surface, but I can't be cleansed without exposing the dirt and grime crammed in the corners and hiding in the dark places.  It's these moments when I think I've got it all under control on my own, not in need of the prayer, that sin leaps to the surface.  I am a whitewashed tomb as Jesus described in Matthew 23:27, "Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites!  You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean."  I felt a lot like that, sitting on my dirty floor.  Just dead and rotting inside and spewing that rottenness at my children.

So I cried and confessed and hugged timid children, though it felt wrong to be allowed their embrace.  They are so forgiving.  Even more so is Our God.  I confess to you, because you might see a mom who "has it altogether," but it's often a whitewashed tomb concealing struggles and sin and rottenness and it's not fair to let you think otherwise.  No one ever has it altogether and is outside of the need of prayer and God's assistance in keeping a "clean home."  That's why Proverbs 28:13 promises, "He who covers his sins will not prosper, but the one who confesses and renounces them finds mercy."  Thank God there is mercy and grace, because I am so desperately in need of them.

Because You Say So

"Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!" Peter cried to Jesus, as he fell to his knees.  This account of Peter's repentance is found in Luke, Chapter 5 in the telling of the Miraculous Catch of Fish.  He asked God to leave his presence.  He knew he was not worthy to share the same air, the same boat, so he pleads with Jesus to leave.  What great sin had convicted Peter so?

Moments earlier, Jesus had instructed Peter to take his boat out to deeper water and let out his net for a catch of fish.  Peter was a fisherman.  He knew his trade well, so from his expertise he spoke, "Master, we've worked hard all night and haven't caught anything.  But because you say so, I will let down the nets."  

Peter's response could be interpreted two ways: He was willing to obey, because he trusted Jesus to know better than he- "But because you say so, I will let down the nets" Or, he was obeying because he respected Jesus, but didn't have much faith that his efforts would bear fruit.  I can't speak for Peter, but were I in his shoes, this is what underlying meaning would be wrapped up in those sentences:

  

                            1.  "We've worked hard all night"- I'm tired.  My work is done here.  The nets are                        clean.  Did I mention I just worked hard all night?

                            2.  "haven't caught anything."- Been there, done that, big fail, and I don't plan on wasting my time on it again any time too soon.

                            3.  "But because you say so..."- Fine! *Uttered with big, huffy exertion, and possible out of sight eye roll*  But I don't think this is a good idea...

                            4.  "I will let down the nets." - See me obeying?  That's what you want, isn't it?  You can't discipline me, because I'm just doing what I was told.

Peter wasn't yet a disciple, but Jesus had at least garnered some of his respect.  Peter had already experienced Jesus's miraculous healing of his mother-in-law in chapter 4.  Not to mention that, living in the region of Galilee, it would be unlikely he hadn't heard of the many other miracles Jesus had already performed at this early start of His ministry.  At minimum, he respected Jesus as a teacher, because he had allowed Jesus to use his boat as His podium for the speech He had just delivered to the crowd on the shore.  But in spite of this, it appears to me that Peter was reluctant to trust Jesus in the area that Peter knew best- fishing.  So it would seem a begrudging obedience that he guided the boat out into deeper waters and released his nets.  The kind of obedience where one expects to be able to shrug his shoulders and say, "I told you so," when the end results justify the resistance.

Only, they begin to catch so many fish, their nets begin to break and they have to wave over help.  It is then that we see Peter's repentant response, which makes me inclined to believe that Peter really was annoyed with Jesus's request and that he had obeyed in action, but not in heart.  Peter had admired Jesus's teaching.  He had witnessed miracles that were less easy to explain away as coincidence than a ginormous catch of fish, but it was this miracle that caught his attention.  Why?

I would argue it was because this miracle revealed the most to Peter about his personal relationship with God.  It was the moment that Peter understood "follow" in the active sense, rather than in the passive.   He still had not given God the full obedience that comes from the heart.  Peter had not given Him reign over his day to day.  Perhaps he didn't understand until this demonstration the interest that God had in his life personally.  

Peter was no doubt tired and deflated from a worthless night of work when Jesus instructed him to cast his net upon the water.  He was expecting nothing more from his efforts than to exacerbate those problems, but Christ was on the verge of refreshing his weary soul.  All Peter must do was follow.

It is precisely when our soul is tired and deflated that God beckons, "Follow."  When we have worried through the night, toiled to exhaustion, and run the failing race, that He meets us and says, "Cast your net and trust me."  The temptation to make excuses may rise up, but it is when we ignore temptation and look to God's instruction that we burst our nets with blessing.

Peter said, "Leave me Lord," but God told him that now, he was truly ready to follow.  Now Peter's heart was prepared for true discipleship.  Obedience is the primary lesson in this account.  Peter obeyed in action, but it revealed his resistant heart.  The trick with obedience is that each time it becomes a little easier to obey.  Sometimes we have to experience the results of our disobedience and sometimes we reap the reward of our obedience, but there will also be times when we are called to obedience without any visible results.  Even at those times, God is at work if only in molding our heart to be more receptive to His reign.

What I love about this story is how Peter's entire mission changes in moments.  He had spent the night seeking fish, because it was his means of survival.  But it was this miracle that made Peter leave the boat, heavy-ladened with the fish that had been so important to him only moments ago, and follow a whole new calling.

1 John 2:3-5  we know that we have come to know Him if we obey His commands.  The man who says, "I know him," but does not do what He commands is a liar, and the truth is not in him.  But if anyone obeys His Word, God's love is truly made complete in him.    

  

Even the Hair on my Head

I poked fun at my mom for her method of dividing food among her 7 children.  It was never a handful of grapes; it was 8 grapes.  Each child got two of every color of M&M's and you bet I felt the world had done me a great disservice when "they" did away with the tan ones.  No, she did not compensate.  It was years before blue came along.  She did what she had to do to manage a household of hungry children whom were quick to shout, "Not fair!" at any imbalance.  Now, though only half of my children can count, I find myself doing mental math at meals to make foods stretch and not leave one child empty-handed.   So, yes, I count grapes... and strawberries... and slices of pear.

Raspberries are expensive.  I purchase them on rare occasions when they are in-season.  I have a rule that fruit must never cost more than $.33 a serving.  It helps me make wise decisions in the grocery store when kids are requesting pricey produce and I'm at risk of making hasty decisions so I can just get out of the store with minimal sanity-loss.  I bought raspberries one day when they met The Rule criteria.  I washed them for lunch and put them on the table in their original container.  While distracted, the raspberries were consumed in what I can only imagine was at the speed of starved piranhas, because they were gone in seconds, leaving a mommy and two other children wanting.

"What happened to the raspberries?" I asked somewhat rhetorically.

"I ate them," said Guilty Piranha.

"Did you consider that someone else might have wanted some?" I asked, calculating that now to even the scales I would be shelling out big bucks for today's fruit rations.

"Well, you put them in front of me so I just thought those were mine," said the child, a bit ashamed.

It was an honest mistake, I suppose.  I suppose I can't expect a child to recognize that no one else had a box of raspberries at their seat, nor were there any other raspberries in sight.  I suppose I can't expect a child to realize that I have never portioned raspberries at the rate of a pint per child.  I suppose it was a fair assumption that what falls into the boundaries of your place setting becomes fair game.

I'm not trying to make a mountain out of raspberries.  They were just raspberries.  (Of course, try telling that to the kid that didn't get any.)  What I see in this little anecdote is a reflection of my own ignorant greed that causes me to assume what God put before me, He intends for my pleasure only.  I wonder how many times God has been frustrated- no, angered- at my greedy consumption.  How often do I look like a child, licking her fingers clean of the signs of over-indulgence while hungry onlookers wonder what made me so lucky?  I would be lying to myself if I said anything other than too often.

I know I painted this picture for you with food.  At the forefront of my mind when picturing "those in need," I see hungry faces.  But take a moment with humanity and you will find that "need" stretches beyond the tangible food and shelter.  Not to detract from offering in these areas, but I write today because I believe that God has blessed each one of us differently with the purpose that we should use those blessings for the good of others.  Financial inadequacy is no excuse for the absence of generosity.  There are so many ways we can share the blessings that we have and be a reflection of Christ in the life of others.

I've had long hair most of my life.  Shortly after my wedding eight-ish years ago, I decided it was time for a drastic cut and figured I might as well donate my hair if I planned to cut that much.  It was a win-win situation.  My hair seems to grow faster than average and I found myself in the same place of desiring a fresh look after the birth of my first child.  It was then that I made a commitment to grow my hair out and donate it for as long as I was able.  The timing has been such that I have an appropriate amount of hair for donating after 2 years of growth, which has worked out to be after the birth of each of my additional three children.

Only, I just didn't feel like it this time.  Matthew is a year old now, and I knew I was shirking my commitment, but I danced around it.  After all, it was MY hair and I like it long.  And then it was winter and cold and that hair can be so, so warm.  Long hair has a way of entangling itself around your identity.  And for any of you that are in the camp of "But long hair is so much work," let me introduce you to my friend The Ponytail, which when done correctly, does not even require brushing.  Short hair requires styling and fussing when it won't lay flat or flip in the right direction.  Ponytails alleviate all worries (except the one about looking more than apathetic about your appearance).

But the voice that accompanied me at every shampooing and tangle-tackling, reminded me that not even the hair on my head is mine.  I just don't believe that it is.  And what is faith if you are not acting on what you believe?  So the appointment was scheduled and the hair was shed and packaged in an envelope to be a blessing to someone who doesn't see it as just hair, because it doesn't grow for them.  I am blessed to be able to say, "It's just hair.  It'll grow back."

I feel lighter.  Not just in the weight of hair, but in heart, because I held on to something that wasn't mine for the keeping.  It's only hair, but it's a matter of the heart.  I hold on to too much under the guise of it being mine, when God has only placed it in my care for His purposes.  Money, food, shelter, talent, time, ability, knowledge, even the hair on my head- in all these things I can and must bring Him glory.  It is why He gave them to me.

I have so much more to give than has been given; so much that I choose to use for my own glory, rather than His.  Following Him is in the letting go.

Then Jesus said to his disciples, "I tell you the truth, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.  Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God."  When the disciples heard this, they were greatly astonished and asked, "Who then can be saved?"  Jesus looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible."