Is the YOU your family sees the same as the YOU the church people and others see?

Recently Facebook has been flooded with all sorts of tests that you can take.  What 80’s song are you?  What Bible character are you?  What type of food are you?  What dog breed are you?  How organized are you?  (stayed far away from that one!).  What’s your TRUE personality?  Who are you when no ones looking? And taking it a step further, who are we when only our family is looking?  Ahhh, there’s one worth talking about .  Or is it?  That question has always been one that I ask myself. 

I’ve worked with many teenagers that tell me that the parents that we see at church are certainly not the ones they see at home.  They say things like, “if you only know the Jekyll and Hyde that I see.”  Many women I worked with long to be the same, consistent person daily.  They desire the “what you see is what you get” character.   Being a pastor’s wife and living in parsonages near the church I really tried to be the same at home as I was at church.  If I’m to be honest I will tell you that that did not always happen.  My children even joke about some of the “quick changes” that I did from crazy, yelling mom to church lady. Not my finest of moments.

I recall one day when my kids were small,  (okay, probably more than one day), when I had raised my voice to where the walls were shaking.  Let’s just be frank, I was yelling and there was nothing nice about my tone of voice. Then there was the ring of the phone and I answered with the sweetest of pastor wives hellos that you could ever imagine (while still silently yelling and pointing my fingers at my kids to get doing what they should be doing).  I was the great multi-tasker.  I was sweet church lady on the phone and silent raging, finger-wagging mom where no one but my kids could see.  I think when I got off of the phone my husband just looked at me like, “wow, that was interesting exchange.”  I knew it was bad and I had been caught. 

Many of you will know this one.  Sunday morning, everyone is running late and mom has to get everyone moving in quick time.  What better than a good Sunday scream fest to get them all in gear right?  As a pastoral family this scenario happened to us many of times.  I would gripe and complain and yell all the way to church. If no one were around I’d even continue it walking up to the church doors.  The second I walked in with my family I would see a parishioner and I would shake their hand or hug them and say, “oh Mary, how are you today? God bless you and I sure hope you have a wonderful week bathed in Gods love.”  The whole time my family stands behind me fingers in throat gagging at my sickly sweet words that never got to them that day. 

So who are we when no one is looking?  Or when it’s only our family looking and no one else?  In my case I’ve had to admit that it’s not always been good.  However, my goal has always been “what you see is what you get.”  I so desire to be the same at home, at church, in the grocery store, on the mission field, etc…  It’s gotten better through out the years as I have consciously made an effort to have that constant integrity in my life.  I’m far from perfect and if you walk up to my house and knock on the door you just may hear me yelling at my dog or complaining about something. 

People all around us are looking for Christians that are real; Christians that are imperfect but live a life of integrity.  Is that you?  Or are you the Jekyll and Hyde that confuses someone that is trying to figure out what being Christ like is all about?  I’ll admit that I’ve not always been the finest of examples when I become crazy wife or mom but you learn to muddle through those times, ask for forgiveness, grow from them and move on towards a life of being that consistent you that you have always dreamt that we would be.  Let’s start 2015 with not another resolution that gets lost in the shuffle but with a goal to be the same for our families as we are for the rest of the world. 

Christ was born. Now what?

It’s the morning after Christmas, the packages have been opened, the boxes are stacked and ready to be taken out for recycling and the remnants of gifts can be seen scattered throughout the house.  The Christmas tree is lit but there is emptiness under its lowest branches, except for the wrinkled tree skirt that the gifts once laid on.  One might think it to be a sad day with all of the festivities and celebrating done for another year.  I look at it differently; it’s just the beginning of the celebrating.

Some of you will remember well when your children were born.  You anticipated for 9 months the coming.  You would prepare for the necessary items that you would have to have, prepare a room for the baby, and of course make sure you had many diapers on hand for this new little one.  The day of the birth was not the ending point.  It was just the beginning.

As we spent yesterday celebrating the birth of Christ we are thankful for the Savior that came to earth as a human born as a little baby.  When he was born the Shepherds went and told everyone because this was a big event.  The Savior of the world had finally arrived and it was just the beginning.  Just like what happened 2000 years ago, we too can joyfully tell people about Christ’s birth, but it doesn’t have to stop with just an announcement.  When a baby is born we do everything we can to get to know that new bundle of joy.  We spend time with him or her getting to know everything about them.  We stare at their face and see how their eyes are shaped, how they smile, the cute little dimple on the left side of their mouth.  We get to know them.  We don’t walk away from them the day that they are born. No, it’s only the beginning of getting to know them intimately. 

So too, the day after Christmas isn’t a day of sadness because the Happy Birthday Jesus cake has been eaten and we have to wait another year to make another.  We have the opportunity to get to know this Christ-child.  Just like a new parent does in getting to know their new child, we can begin today by truly knowing the Savior.  But how do we even begin?  We can’t hold him in our arms?  We can’t look at his face and see how he smiles or how he slowly falls asleep after drinking his bottle. 

Though we can’t physically make contact with our Savior, we can read about him and his character.  We can read the gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke and John) in the Bible and find out what type of person Jesus was.  If you are looking for a new study to do this season, go through these books and underline or write down anything that has to do with Christ’s character.  What type of person was he?  How can we in turn emulate those same characteristics in our lives?  Ephesians 5:1-2 says, Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. 

If we want to know someone, we need to spend time finding out who they are.  Jesus didn’t come to earth to be celebrated only once a year but came to give us life.  For us to truly know that life we need to find out who he is and live like he did.  Don’t end the Christmas season by just picking up all of the stray wrapping paper and bows, pick up God’s Word and start to find out who this special baby is that was born as the Savior of the world.

Photo Friday: In Memory of my friend Minerva Norzagaray

My dearest friend from Mexico, Miny,  lost her mom last night.  She passed away after having heart complications.  Her mom Minerva had the opportunity to travel to Michigan with Miny and myself to the Deeper Life Women's Retreat a few years back. (This picture is from that time-Minerva is on the far right).  She was able to meet many of my special friends here in Michigan and loved all of you that she met.  Minerva loved the Lord with all of her heart and wanted to see people come to know him in a personal way.  Today she is sitting at the feet of Jesus.  Until we meet again friend.

The Waiting Game

I’ve been thinking a lot over the last several days about waiting.  We’ve all had to wait, there’s no doubt about that.  Especially this time of year we find ourselves waiting in long lines at the grocery stores, Walmart and the department stores.  Everyone is out trying to get last minute gifts for loved ones or food for the big family meal.  The waiting I’ve been thinking about over the last week hasn’t been this type of waiting, but the type of waiting that Mary, the mother of Jesus, did. 

Mary was carrying the Savior of the world.  I think of the times that I came close to my due date with my babies, and how I was waiting  with anticipation to see what they would look like, what sex they would be and if they would be as perfect as in my mind I knew they were. (I was never disappointed).   Would they have dark hair, blond hair, or hair at all?   I can imagine that Mary had this same type of anticipation but even more so because there had been nothing “normal” about how her pregnancy happened and she wasn’t just carrying any baby, she was carrying the Prince of Peace.  Talk about pressure. I’m sure though, like any expectant mother she too was waiting to see what he would look like.  Would he look like a Savior?  What does a Savior even look like?  I bet she couldn’t wait.  I’m sure as she was traveling to Bethlehem on that long journey, that she really wanted the waiting to be over.  (It was probably not the most comfortable traveling experience for a gal that was 9 months pregnant). 

Today as I opened my advent devotions the title was “Wait for the Lord.”  I found it interesting as I had already chosen the theme of today’s blog last night.  It seems that waiting during this season is on everyone’s mind.  Maybe for you, like Mary, this season is a time of waiting in anticipation for the celebration of the birth of the Christ-child.  Excellent! But for many, this season becomes a different type of waiting; a stressful waiting.  Will our family gathering to celebrate Christ’s birth be a day of tension and unkind words flying about out of our mouths?  We wait to see just how that will pan out.  Will the packages that we ordered arrive on time?  We wait and we wait.  Will our family members traveling from far away make it here safely?  We wait. 

Though stressful, waiting is not a bad thing. In fact it’s Biblical.  Fr. Robert Barron reminds us to wait, but with the active expectation that God will move. The Psalmist had it right: "Wait for the Lord, take courage; be stouthearted, wait for the Lord!" (Ps 27:14).  Is the Lord making you wait for some reason during this season?  Mary had no choice but to wait and she knew that in that waiting God would move; and he did.  In your waiting, whether it is at the grocery store over trivial things, or in the situations of your life be expectant that God will show up.  If you are looking for Him, he will.

Thank you Lord for my Messy Dining Room Table

As I lay awake last night (well actually this morning) at 2 a.m.  I knew for sure that I was going to be very tired today.  I like my sleep and I like to get enough of it.  The thought of the alarm going off around 6:30 a.m. didn’t do a whole lot for me.  In my fatigue I couldn’t help but smile because the reason that I wasn’t sleeping was because my boys, now on Christmas break from college, were watching a show and laughing and laughing.  Oh they weren’t laughing every 5 minutes or so, but about every 20 second a good belly laugh would come out from at least one of them if not both.  My sweet little boys were home on Christmas break and they were still on their college schedule and I shut my eyes, smiled and it was okay.

I thanked God over and over for the blessings of these two young men that I don’t get to see on a daily basis.  I’m thankful for the men in Christ that they have become; their kindness, their love, and their willingness to help good ole’ mom when she needs a hand (or a bandage).  I even began thanking him for the mess on my dining room table over the last couple of days.  The 3 piles of clean laundry that just sat there, the Lego helicopters built (because “mom, we are reliving our childhood” I was told), the miscellaneous things that were theirs that I didn’t have a clue where to put and a soda can where it shouldn’t be.  This was joy to me (when normally it wouldn’t be) because it meant that my boys were home and I got to have them here with me for just a short time, love on them, and let them sleep until 2 in the afternoon if they wanted to. 

Cereal is gone faster, coffee has to almost be made by the gallon, and a big thing of milk doesn’t last us a week and a half like it normally does when there is just three of us here.  On a daily basis my big giant bearded boy will come up and give me a hug…just because.  I listen to   Zach and Brian tease each other about things that make me giggle. I look over while we are watching a movie and get to see my little girl snuggle up against her big brother and him letting her. 

I’m blessed there is no doubt about that.  I’m thankful to God for what he has given me and the glimpses I see of him every minute through the actions of my children, the togetherness of my family and yes, even in the messiness of my dining room table.  If I have to eat my meals in the living  because the table is covered, I’m okay with that because I’m together with my family and that is a gift from God.

Warm Blankets

On this photo Friday I am thankful for friends who heard that I left my fuzzy, comfy blanket in Mexico.  One friend surprised me and sent me the green one in the mail(used in my bedroom only for those lovely nap times), and the blue print one was sent to me and made with love from the Clarkston FMC Mom's Squad(used in the living room only when I am working and snuggling watching a movie).  Who knew that God would bless me with 2.  I LOVE LOVE LOVE fuzzy blankets.  

A Christmas Picnic

My friend Melanie asked me to be a guest writer on her blog and to share about our traditions for Christmas.  Not only will you love this simple meal but you'll love checking out her full blog site.

How to read the story and Melanies blog link

A Friendship Remembered

Saturday was the annual Christmas tea for our church.  My daughter had plans so I was going by myself.  I figured that I would know someone there and just sit with them and enjoy a nice time of food and fellowship.  As I walked into the church my next-door neighbor, who owns a group home for the elderly, had her car parked right up by the door.  She was helping one of the ladies who live at the home out of the car to go into the church.  I found out then that she had brought all 5 of the ladies from the home.  I knew that this was not an easy thing for her to do and so I helped her get Chris out of the car and then offered to park her car for her so that she could slowly walk Chris into the church. 

When I arrived in the fellowship hall, it was only natural that I gravitated towards the table where these sweet, dear ladies were sitting.  They were my next-door neighbors and from time to time I would go over and visit with them and laugh with them.  Most all of the gals that lived there had some form of dementia or Alzheimer’s and so I always had to reintroduce myself to them.  Though they didn’t remember my name and that I lived next door they most always remembered me…..I think.  A few of the ladies had their daughters with them but two of them did not.  I sat next to Betty a wonderful, spunky 94-year-old lady with a wonderful sense of humor. 

As I sat down I reminded Betty of whom I was and that I was her neighbor.  We talked a little bit about Christmas and how nice it was to be at this luncheon.  Then she asked me if Joanne Stanford was there.  Not knowing everyone at the Christmas tea I told her that I was not sure.  My friend who owns the home overheard her ask me and she said, “No Betty, your friend Joanne lives in Lapeer and we are in Sandusky.”  Betty seemed to be okay with that answer and we continued visiting.  She asked me where we were and I told her that we were at the fellowship hall of the church.  She asked me again if Joanne was there.  I told her that no she was not but then asked her who Joanne was.  What I found out was that Joanne was her friend.  I don’t know from how far back in her life but it was evident that she was someone very special to her.  She associated being in church with seeing her friend Joanne.  She began to tell me that Joanne’s middle name of Elaine and that her middle name of Lorraine and so they would go around and say Betty Loraine and Joanne Elaine because it rhymed. It brought joy to my heart to hear this dear lady talk about this friend that at some point in her life had had such an impact on her.  I was sad that I couldn’t bring Joanne to her as it seemed so important to her.  I didn’t even know if Joanne was even alive or where she might live now, but Betty seemed to be content with her memories of this friendship from years past. 

The time eating lunch and visiting was accompanied by the wonder of the littlest things.  There was a Christmas bulb at each place setting and when I told Betty that it was a gift for her, I saw her eyes light up and she exclaimed, “How wonderful!”  Then when she saw the little Christmas stocking with chocolates in it she just couldn’t believe how nice and special the people had made this luncheon.  When I asked if she wanted white cake, cherry cake or a brownie for dessert she said, “well a brownie of course.”  Yes, of course. 

Betty may not remember each time that I am her neighbor, or what my name is but there are some things that even someone with dementia won’t forget; the taste of a chocolate brownie over cherry cake, the joy of receiving a gift and the memories of times past of a good friend.  Good friends are hard to find, especially those that will last a lifetime.  I’m glad that I was able to sit with Betty that day and be reminded of the important things in life.   Betty Loraine and Joanne Elaine—it does have a nice ring to it doesn’t it?  (Betty is pictured in the bottom right-hand corner)

Friday Photo: Missing Miny

I love how God puts people together at just the right time in our lives.  I'm thinking of my dear friend Miny from Mexico today and missing her.  She came along about the time we moved to a new city in Mexico and didn't know many people.  She and I became friends and as time went on became like sisters.  Don't we look alike?  :)  Recently she has been going through some hard times worrying about the health of her mom.  It's hard not being there to check up on her, pray with her, etc... But I'm so thankful that we have a God that hears my prayers for her and her mom even though we are 2000 miles away.  Though I can't pray with her I can pray FOR her.  What a blessing!  Love you sis.

Broken Glass, Blood and Band-Aids

I’m accident-prone.  Ok, I admitted it out loud.  Most everyone that knows me is probably shaking his or her head in agreement right now.  If you don’t know me then keep reading the blog for a few weeks and you’ll catch on really fast.  This middle-aged body has scars that if they could talk would be; first of all, just plain gross but second of all would tell great, funny stories.  I bring this subject up today because I have done a lot of typing and have had to hit the keys with my one finger that I sliced open yesterday on broken glass from the drain in our kitchen sink.  It started out so normal.  I had opened the cupboard.  It all went downhill from there when the domino affect began:  the bowl on the top shelf shifted, hit a glass, knocked it into the sink on top of a plate, broke the glass and the plate.  Of course I was careful to get all of the pieces so that no one would get hurt.  And as we all know the drains in sinks can catch the icky nasty stuff that somehow gets in there as well, apparently, as broken glass.  I suppose it didn’t help that I ran my finger around the drain itself to get it all out.  When I felt the pain I knew right away what it was.  Blood trickled down as I once again had to yell for my 14 year old daughter who is always on hand with Neosporin and a Band-Aid.  The neat thing is that all I have to do is yell, “Emily, I need help again.”  And she knows what to grab and how fast to come.  It’s almost like it wasn’t the first time.

I could understand someone who occasionally hurts themselves but to do it on a daily basis gets really old after awhile.  The previous day I was cutting cardboard with a razor blade and yep, you guessed it, I sliced open one of my other fingers.  I ran into the house yelling for that help from my girl and tripped over the dog barrier that we have up between rooms, dripping blood on the floor as my body lunged forward while my toe stayed clinging to the barrier.  Ouch!  It’s almost like a scene from a sitcom.  My family just stares and can’t help but laugh at me. I just let them because it all seems just so unbelievable these things that happen to me.

We bought a house right across from the hospital and medical care facility in town.  My husband likes to tell me that it may not be by accident that we did that.  You see when I wind up in ER (like I have more than once) it will be much easier for my family to come check in on me.  The accidents of this past week didn’t involve any stitches, x-rays or an ER visit but it did remind me that even in the most simple of life’s tasks I have to be on high alert…and have my little girl on speed dial ready to rush to me with the bandages.