Tag: Lessons and Musings Page 15 of 21

You know those sermons that stick with you forever? I remember one from my early years of college. Hillside Church, Sunday night service (back in the day when churches still had Sunday night services), Harry Brown of Cityteam ministries. He said (to paraphrase): If you (as an American church-goer) had to write a missionary prayer letter to your fellow church members on how God is using you to minister to others, what would you say?

Cuz we’re all supposed to be missionaries.

Right?

That gets drilled into our heads even when we are little in Sunday School.

But what does that even mean?

One thing that I really, really love about actually being an overseas missionary is that it forces me to actually live like a missionary. Got it? Clear as mud.

Let me explain. Let me tell you the expectations that are on us, since we serve God overseas:

We are held totally accountable for our finances. We get a stipend from HOPAC, but almost all that we live on comes from sacrificial donations. Do you know what it feels like to live like that? We think twice about how we spend it. We are constantly aware that everything we have is the result of other people’s love and faithfulness. We are forced to see what we own as sacredly entrusted to us to do God’s work. Yes, we do go on vacations and we certainly eat more than rice and beans. But we are reminded on a daily basis that all that we have belongs to God.

We are held totally accountable for our time. Every year our mission requires each of us individually to write and submit extensive goals for ourselves: personally, spiritually, and in ministry. Mine this year take up 3 single spaced pages. It’s like New Year’s Resolutions on steroids. Every month, we must submit a report which states how we are doing to meet those goals.

We constantly live with a sense of calling. We have been forced to be deliberate and purposeful in everything we do. Where do we live? What neighborhood should we live in? How big should our house be? Who do we spend time with? What kind of lifestyle do we choose? How do we spend our Friday nights? How will our children be educated? Each question is answered according to our calling. Everything must be purposeful.

And finally, we have to write prayer letters every month. We’re not just held accountable to our mission to but to hundreds of other people as well. Every month, we better be doing our job, because if we’re not, we’ll have nothing to say to the scores of people who pray for us and financially support us. Yes, it’s very intimidating! But it’s also amazing.

Let me make something really clear. There isn’t anything special about us that puts us in a different category than your average Christian. There isn’t any reason why we should be put on a pedestal. Our halos aren’t shinier than anyone else’s. Our hearts are sinful and our words are not always God-honoring. We have hurt people and deliberately disobeyed God at times. We can be lazy or judgmental or set on our own agendas. Of course, we believe in the saving power of God’s grace. But we consider ourselves really blessed to be forced to live in the way that every Christian should be living anyway. We fight it sometimes, but the accountability is wonderful. It pushes us, shoves us, demands that we do what we know we should.

In some ways, because of this, I think that it’s easier to live as a Christian in this life than it is in America. CrazyLove and Radical aren’t very hard to apply over here. Of course, that’s not why we choose to live this life. But it certainly is a benefit. How to live the missionary life in America? To live knowing your money and time belong to God? To live with a sense of calling and purpose? To be held accountable for those things to the Church? Now that is the bigger question.

One of the best parts about serving as an overseas missionary is that we get “sent,” commissioned….prayed for and sent off with much fanfare. It’s inspiring and motivating and invigorating. We have a calling! Our church is behind us! We are doing God’s work! Run to the battle!

I’ve always thought it would be wonderful if the Church did that for every profession. Like if one week they brought up all the medical professionals, and another week all the business people, and another week all the stay-at-home moms. Let them give their own “missionary updates” on how God is using them to redeem humanity culturally and spiritually, and then….commission them, pray for them, send them off to do God’s work! Because aren’t we all missionaries? There really shouldn’t be a difference, should there?

I feel so out of it sometimes. I’ve lived 8 of the last 10 years in Africa. I have never raised children in the States. But I like to keep in touch with life in America. So I read blogs. Some belong to friends, or friends of friends, or sometimes I’ll visit those of people I’ve never met. And from these blogs I have gotten the distinct impression that certain things are very popular right now with young Christian moms, namely:

1. Giving birth to as many children as possible, or at least more than four.

2. Homeschooling all of them.

3. Training them all to cook, clean, garden, and play musical instruments.

4. Doing all the housework “with a plan.”

5. Cooking from scratch with only natural ingredients.

6. “Simple” and “frugal.”

7. Making one’s own laundry detergent.

8. Scrapbooking and/or selling crafts on Etsy.

And when these particular topics are discussed, all are backed up with Bible references.

So I look at this list and compare myself:

I have never given birth to a single child. I have no intention of homeschooling. I have a full-time house worker who does all my cleaning and laundry. I cook from scratch out of necessity, but in this country, the raw milk will kill you and the whole wheat flour won’t rise. I have no idea if what I am eating is organic and no way of finding out.  Coupons don’t exist here. I have never found borax in the grocery store. I hate scrapbooking and my idea of craft time with the kids is to hand my daughter a bunch of popsicle sticks and some glue (which kept her entertained for two hours, I might add).

Is this really how it is in the “Christian Mom” community or is it only in the blog world? I could never live up to those standards here, yet I don’t think I could do it in the States either. But I feel myself succumbing to the pressure. I purchased Nourishing Traditions. I made a chore chart for Grace (which lasted about a week). I spent an hour on Tuesday researching “safe” sun screens.

No one is actually pressuring me, of course. Not a single person has criticized me for the lack of borax in my house. But I feel like they would, if these invisible women saw me. Ha! What kind of mother are you? Look at all these plastic toys! Your children can’t name all the classical composers! And you have a maid!

So I ask myself: Why am I feeling pressured?

Because I want to be a good mom.

Because what they say makes sense.

Because I get their biblical interpretations.

Because I want to do it right. “It” meaning “everything.”

It’s funny really. My childhood dream was to have 16 children and live on a farm with a husband who had a beard. The beard part was very important. In that life I would have had plenty of raw milk.

I wanted to live that life. I would have been happy in it. Maybe I would have even liked scrapbooking.

But even though in my heart I am so similar to those women, I have been called to a vastly different life.

I don’t have 16 children because even if I could produce them, it’s not prudent or realistic for an overseas missionary family. I don’t homeschool because our lives and community and ministry are completely wrapped up in HOPAC—and our kids are part of that ministry, and one of the best ways our family can minister to students and parents is to have a daughter attending the school (and there’s no better school in the world for her to attend). My children may not learn how to do all the things they would do if they were in America, but they will learn to communicate with people from all over the world and identify and experience a multitude of cultures and religions (with some piano lessons thrown in there too). I have a full-time houseworker because she is the sole breadwinner for her family; there is 40% unemployment in this country, and I am thus given the freedom of time to minister to more people. I do not garden beause vegetables are plentiful, beautiful, and I want to support the local economy.  The food we eat and the laundry detergent we use and the sun screen we slather may kill us….but we would eventually die anyway. The safest place in the world is in the center of God’s will.

I certainly hope no one sees this as a criticism for living the life of simplicity and frugality and organic, natural homes of 16 children. Don’t you get it? I want to be like you. Does that seem silly to you? Maybe you see my life as glamorous and exciting. The grass is always greener, isn’t it?

So I’m writing this post to myself, really, to remind myself of God’s particular calling on my life as a mom. And maybe to any other moms out there who feel like they can’t live up to the Christian-Mom-blog standard.

It’s important to see the difference between a biblical mandate and a calling. Even in my own passions. Go into all the world and preach the gospel. I used to think everyone needed to be a missionary. Then I grew up. It’s a command for everyone, but what it looks like in everyone’s life will be different. True religion is to care for orphans and widows…that’s another passion and calling of mine—applied through adoption in my life—but applied differently for others. But it’s thus true for other commonly used passages as well, such as Be fruitful and multiply or Your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit. Let us not confuse calling with command.

Don’t get me wrong. I found coconut oil on the grocery shelf last week and it made my day. I like simple and natural; it’s just not always realistic. In certain other life circumstances, I would home school. But it is so easy for me, in my quest to be a “good mom,” to lose sight of what really God requires of me. Love. Train. Discipline. Impart wisdom and truth. Listen. Sacrifice. For every mom, in every life situation, that’s going to look different. The most important part is that I am in God’s Word, my heart is right, and I am faithful to His call on my life.

I was reading a book about Rainbow Fish to the kids the other day.  Rainbow Fish and his friends needed to go to a “Sea Monster’s Cave” to get something for a sick friend, and all of them were scared.  They got each other all worked up about the scary things in the cave, but finally summoned the courage and went anyway.  Lo and behold, it was all in their imagination!  What they thought were dangerous creatures were really just sharp rocks, seaweed, and friendly fish.  And they all lived happily ever after.

And so it struck me: I can think of a handful of other children’s books with the same theme. Scary sounds at night? Just a tree tapping on the window. Monsters under the bed? Just Sully, the big friendly furry blue nice guy who needs your screams. And then there’s Scooby Doo….even though each and every day the monster turned out to be a guy in a costume, each and every day Shaggy and Scooby got scared. When would they learn?

So this is what we teach our children about fear? That there really isn’t anything to be afraid of?

Not just children, I found out. This week I’ve been reading up on Cognitive Therapy for an essay I’m writing for an on-line class. Listen to this:

“List any negative expectations…that may frighten her or negatively influence her behavior….Rank the chances that such an event will happen on a scale from 0 to 100% and then list one to three options that may be appropriate to that expectation.”

The gist: Convince the patient that the odds are against them, and help them come up with options so that they will feel more in control if something bad does happen.

And this one:

“Most life situations are time-limited and specific to that situation. We recommend that you help your patient pull from other areas of his life to learn to view his own situations in different ways.” (Overcoming Depression: A Cognitive Therapy Approach Therapist Guide by Gilson, Mark Freeman, Arthur Yates, M. Jane)

The gist: Convince the patient that life really isn’t all that bad after all. She is just over-reacting.

Just like Rainbow Fish. Scary things aren’t really scary. Bad things aren’t really bad. Everything is going to be okay.

Really? Does anyone really believe that? Who are we kidding?

If that was true, then why do kids still get scared of what’s under their bed? Why do we have such a hard time convincing them?

Because they know we are wrong! They know that scary things do exist. Maybe they can’t describe them; maybe they’ve never seen them, but they know they are there. They know they are not safe. They know that even Mom and Dad can’t protect them completely; they know they are not in control.

And they are right.

The truth is, denial only works part of the time. We can try to convince ourselves that the odds are in our favor, that planes don’t usually crash, that kids don’t usually choke, that boogie men only attack once in a while, but we all know that it could still happen.

Instead, the answer lies in Person. Veggie Tales got it right: God is bigger than the Boogie-Man. Greater is He who is in me than he who is in the world. My Dad is looking out for me. And He’s got all the power in the universe. He’s good; He loves me, and He is in control.

And the answer lies in a Promise: I know that when something bad does happen, it’s because He ordained it. And will use it for good.

And that’s why I can venture into Sea Monster’s Cave.

I loved being a student. I was a good learner; I was responsible, and I did well. Oh yes, I was one of those girls.  But I think what I liked best about it was the clarity I received as to how I was doing. The results of my labor were given neat little grades that to me didn’t really represent how much I had learned, they represented my identity. I was an ‘A’ student. Instant feedback on what kind of person I was. I lived for those little letters. And I gave myself permission to feel good or bad about myself based on them. And if I wasn’t sure how good I really was, there were those helpful teachers who posted the class standings. That was even better. Perfection was attainable. And it was all represented by a little “#1” next to my name.

Teaching was almost as good. We got evaluated twice a year, and there was a list of things we had to achieve. Those little checkmarks became the basis of whether or not I considered myself a good teacher. It was harder than being a student, not nearly so cut and dry, and there were a lot of things about teaching I was not naturally good at. But at least I knew what I had to attain to, and therefore I had a basis to determine whether I was a “good” or “bad” teacher.

I think this is why parenting is so hard for me. There are no grades, no report cards, no checklists. No standard by which to measure myself. What’s that you say? The Bible? Well, yes, that. But that’s so general. Love your children; discipline them; bring them up to know the Lord. Teach them Scripture. That’s not good enough, my heart says. How do I know what is enough?

My kids themselves don’t even help, really. At least in marriage, you know whether or not you are doing a good job being a wife, because your spouse makes it abundantly clear. But in parenting? Not with small children. Never has my child said to me, “Mommy, you’re spending too much time on the computer today.” “Mommy, I’m feeling neglected.” “Mommy, you need to be more creative.” They just accept. They tell you, “You’re my best Mommy.” And your heart melts. But then I think, Am I really the best Mommy? He doesn’t know any better.

So for lack of a checklist, I compare myself with others. Constantly evaluating. Are my children as obedient as hers? Am I as creative as that mom? Do I spend the same amount of time with my children as she does? The internet only makes it worse. Because now, instead of just comparing myself to the dozen or so moms in my circle, I now have the entire world with which to compare myself. The internet is full of perfect moms. Moms that do all kinds of things that I don’t do. Moms that create amazing art projects out of toilet paper and lint. Moms that make birthday cakes to look like a dollhouse with real working faucets. Moms that teach their kids French at age 2. Moms that have their kids butchering chickens and milking cows. Moms that make sensational scrapbooks for each and every year of their children’s lives. Moms that are better cooks than me. Better disciplinarians than me. Far more creative, with lots more energy. Moms that enjoy parenting more than I do. Even moms with better blogs than mine… Imagine that.

And what am I left with? Guilt. Constantly. Feeling like my kids deserve more.

I struggled with whether to write about this because I’m still in the middle of it. Usually I want to write about something I have struggled with, not with something I am struggling with. So that then I can delightfully end with a marvelous conclusion of how we all lived Happily Ever After and everyone can learn from my Great Example.

First of all, please don’t comment about what a great mother I am. That’s not what I am looking for. And truly, unless you have spent a day at my house as a fly on the wall, and I don’t know you are watching, you really don’t know what kind of mother I am. Only God and my children really know, and they won’t start talking about it until they are teenagers on instant messenger with their best friend. Or their therapist.

But I’m trying to find some kind of balance here. Guilt can be good. It can show me where I am being selfish and lazy and impatient. So I can’t totally ignore it. Because I am not anywhere near a perfect mother, by anyone’s standards–let alone God’s. But somehow I must come to peace with the fact that there never will be any grades or checklists or class standings. Even my own kids will not necessarily be an indication of the kind of mother I was. I could be a fabulous mother and still they could make bad choices. Or I could be a selfish mother and by God’s grace, they could turn out great. We’ve all witnessed both.

But I think that the most important thing God wants me to learn in this season of my life, is to get away from the checklist mentality. God doesn’t work by checklists. I could be satisfied with myself in school and as a teacher by those letters and checkmarks, but did I even consider God’s standards? Man looks on the outside, but God looks on the heart. But it’s so easy to look on the outside when evaluating ourselves. But what about my heart?

And I know that is what matters. Is my heart unselfish with my children? Am I putting their needs above my own? Am I making choices that will please God and bring Him glory? Oh, but that’s so much harder to measure. And no one can measure it, except for God and how the Holy Spirit convicts me. And in all honesty, it forces me to be harder on myself than I really want to be. Can’t I just do these three things every day and be a good mom? Nope. Doesn’t work that way. God expects more than a checklist. His grace is always there, and my salvation is not based on my performance, but He will never be satisfied with sinful mediocrity in my heart.