Russell Media - Laurie

Life has been a bit stressful lately. I’ve had to put in some extra work hours due to an advancing deadline. To mentally get myself through it, I told myself last week that I’d take a real Sabbath on Sunday. No work, no email, no computer, nothing. Only rest and play with my family. However, Sunday wasn’t all that restful. I struggled with the desire to do a little work here and there. When I sat down to read, I felt guilty for not working on the project. When I walked past the dirty clothes I felt the urge to do a load. When I saw my computer, I wanted to work on my inbox. My body and heart wanted to relax but my mind kept interrupting my peace. My inability to take a day off to relax kind of, uh, stressed me out.

I finally gave in at the end of the night and allowed myself to do “leisure work” on the computer. It was when I read a comment left by Adam on my Loggerhead, Lights and Landmark post, I was reminded of a lesson we learned in Germany. Adam left some great insight regarding rest on my Conversant Life blog -  as well as a link to the article (http://fulleryouthinstitute.org/2010/05/in-season/). So, I figure this was God’s way of showing me where to begin my Culture Clash series. So Germany it is…

Mark and I lived in Munich, Germany for three years as missionaries and worked mainly with young professionals. It holds a special place in my heart because it is where I primarily learned how to be a mommy. Noah had just turned one and Anastasia was born six months after our arrival. I was away from family and friends and all the advice they could give me, so I watched the German women and copied them.

Before each train ride, the German moms bought fresh pretzels for their kids. So, I did the same each day as we boarded the train to language school. They walked their kids in strollers in all kinds of weather.  So I, ahem, tried to do the same (when it wasn’t too cold). They spent hours in parks and rode bikes everywhere. So, we bought a trailer for our bikes and did our best not wipe anyone out on our family bike rides. (Warning: it’s wise not to do this after a visit to the Bier Garten).

I really miss it – but it wasn’t always easy.

There is a system for most everything and most everyone follows it. Until we learned and followed the routines correctly, we had a good many people let us know “strongly” when we had messed up the system. Each day in language school we’d recite the incident to our language instructors and they’d laugh and fill us in on what we did wrong. Once we learned all of the rules, life became quite nice and orderly and we actually enjoyed the laws of the land. Well…there was one that took us a bit longer to get.

Germans work hard but they play hard too. We loved that about them. You never had to feel guilty about taking and enjoying your time off – you had earned it.

However, we lived in the Bavaria region. At this time, there were quiet hours during each weekday and on Sunday, the whole day was quiet hours and you were expected to be quiet. What?! We are loud Americans, how can we do that?

During these quiet hours no loud work was allowed that would be considered noise pollution – i.e. cutting grass, working on cars, vacuuming your sidewalk (just checking to see if you’re paying attention.) Almost every store was closed with the exception of the bread store for a few hours in the morning, gas stations and some restaurants.

At first the quiet hours drove me crazy. In the past, Sundays were my “catch-up” days. I used the “free-time” to prepare for the week ahead and get a jump-start on my “to-do” list. This put a huge kink in my system. (Unfortunately my German wasn’t good enough to let them strongly know it).

The first few weeks we suffered. I always forgot to get enough food to get us through the weekend (grocery stores closed at noon on Saturday) – so we had to eat out or went to a gas station to buy milk. But little by little I learned the system and before long we were pros.

Once I detoxed from my irritation I noticed something. Sundays were peaceful. I didn’t feel the need to run errands because there was nowhere to go. I didn’t feel guilty for not cutting grass or vacuuming because I wasn’t allowed to. It was quiet outside and it lured us out of the house and into parks and family strolls. The lack of noise was…calming. It was healing. We didn’t feel stressed. We felt…rested.

Not only was this good for my body and mind, it was good for my soul. I communed with God. The same way you can see your reflection better in still water, you can hear God’s voice when you body and mind are quiet.

God created us to work but He also knew we’d need rest and time to play.

Our German friends and family modeled this for us. When they worked, whether at home or in the office, they gave 100%. However, they didn’t neglect the play or the rest.

This Sunday…I’m trying it again. With a new purposed. So my friends, my German advice to you is – Work hard, play hard and rest well (and don’t let anyone make you feel guilty for doing so!)

Does anyone else struggle with me in taking a true Sabbath?

Any advice for those of us who do?

I work from home most days. It’s really nice, especially since the lack of a commute saves me time and money. One morning I knew I wasn’t going to see anyone else until late afternoon. The kids were at school, Mark was at the office so I decided to save even more time and go with the “natural” look. I skipped my daily routine of putting on make-up. In a hurry to take advantage of my extra time, I jumped right into work.

About an hour after I started, the doorbell rang. I peeked out the window and saw it was our delivery guy in search of a signature. When I opened the door he looked at me and seemed thrown off a bit, “Oh, you’re home. I sure hope I didn’t wake you.”

Hmmm…why did he say that? I didn’t delay in answering the door. It was almost 10:00 a.m. on a weekday. Why would he think I’d still be in bed?

As I returned to my desk, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. I stopped. I knew. My face, which is normally covered with beauty products, was completely bare. My imperfections glared. My eyes seemed smaller, my nose looked bigger and my hair was definitely nappier. I looked more like a woman fresh out of bed rather than one fresh for the day.

The rest of the morning was spent with me obsessing over my lack of “natural” beauty.

I have a love/hate relationship with beauty. The old saying tells us that “beauty is in the eyes of the beholder,” but if this is true, why do I feel enslaved to it? Maybe it’s our present definition of it. Why do I feel the need for my body to be a certain size and my hair to not be a certain color? Why is it that I can I find beauty on the TV but not in the mirror? Something is wrong.

Perhaps part of the problem is our culture’s misconstrued definition of beauty. Dictionaries define beauty as something that that brings great pleasure to the senses or blesses the mind. I like this – it’s quite nice. According to this definition, beauty can be found basically anywhere. But if my skin is not a certain color or my jeans a particular size, I feel ugly.

I did an informal word search in a Bible program on the words “beauty” and “beautiful.” There I noticed two things. With the exception of the books of Esther and Song of Solomon, these two words were generally used to describe God or part of his creation and the other warned us of the dangers of depending on our own beauty or man-made beauty.

Again, this was an informal study but it appears that God knew that our obsession for beauty would take our eyes off of Him and what He has given us, and then place it on ourselves. We like beauty. We want it and will do what it takes to have it. In the process we lose sweet communion with God.

I personally don’t see harm in trying to improve my appearance but when it causes my focus to leave God and then fixate it on myself, I’m in insecure territory. I see all that I’m not. However, when my eyes are on God and all who He is, I see all that I am in Him. I see true beauty – one that blesses the mind and brings true pleasure. I’m filled with peace instead of anxiety. And to me, that sounds beautiful.

For now, I’ll continue to wear make-up most days but I’m won’t worry if others do a double take and wonder if I’ve been sick due to my small eyes. I may never see the natural color of my hair again. Come to think of it, I’m not sure if I actually remember it. Either way, when the gray makes its way through I’ll see it as a reminder that God has given me some great years and memories…and hopefully some wisdom learned along the way.

How about you? Does our culture’s definition of beauty haunt you? Any insight on how you deal with it? How are raising your children to deal with it?

I dread going to the grocery store. It seems each time I go I’m in a hurry, with a time limit hanging over my head.

One time a while back, my kids and I went to the smaller, more expensive store by our house. We only needed a few things, and like always, I was in a hurry. The kids hung on to sides of the cart as I darted down each aisle in a race against the clock. I was like a mini van with a turbo engine weaving around other customers. And then I was forced to slow down.

My cart faced the backside of a little ol’ grandma who had parked her cart in the middle of the lane. She looked at one shelf, took a few steps and then looked some more. She turned and saw us waiting. A smile spread across her face and she said hello to the kids and then went back to her shopping.

She seemed oblivious that we were waiting on her to move. So I did what I’d want someone else to do if it was my mother in that situation, I smiled, pretended to be on the wrong row, turned around and hurried off. However, we must have been shopping for the same items because she was everywhere I needed to be and her cart remained in the way. I was getting annoyed, really annoyed. Didn’t she remember it’s rarely fun to shop with young kids hanging on your cart?

We finished up and I shuttled the kiddos out to the car. As I loaded my groceries, out came the little ol’ grandma and a store employee. He loaded her groceries as she chatted away. I could tell he was trying to cut her off and get back to work. I feared I was next to be chatted up by her so I hurried with my groceries in hopes of pulling off before the store employee was able to get away.

Then I heard her say something that changed everything, “My husband died about a month ago. It’s so hard eating dinner by myself. I don’t know how to shop and cook for just one person.”

Ouch, ouch, OUCH!

It literally took my away breath. She wasn’t a self-absorbed shopper taking up the aisle…she was a new widow learning how to survive without her husband and to eat alone. I was the self-absorbed one. I felt like such a jerk.

I stalled as I finished loading my car, I felt the need to talk with her. She said good-bye to the grocery boy and turned to face me. I didn’t know what to say so I commented on the fancy doors of her truck. She began telling me the story of her husband and how he wanted her to have a safe car. She wanted to save money but now that she’s alone, she figured he was right.

We talked for fifteen minutes. I was late to our next appointment but truly humbled that day. God reminded me that the heart of His children is more important than the busyness of my life.

This happened years ago and I still don’t know what to do with it. There are so many lonely and hurting people around me but I fear I’m often too distracted by my “to do” list to see them, and sometimes even care. We live in the earth’s most populated age yet many of us feel isolated and suffer alone.

I know I need to slow down, say “no” more and “be” in the moments of life. I often fear I’m raising my kids to live a busy life. I want them to live, love and be not survive, overlook and hurry. This is the first Saturday we have  no soccer or baseball games and I'm literally thinking of ways we need to "fill" the day and be productive versus enjoying one another. Where's the balance?

So, do any of you out there ever feel the same? Do you have any insight on how to slow down without pulling out of life?

Thanks for listening and your thoughts are cherished!

God's amazing in the way He daily teaches me. The other day I drove to the grocery store. As I pulled into the parking lot I noticed a man on the corner holding a sign asking for money. This particular corner is continually occupied by people asking for money and I’ve found myself no longer noticing those on it.

This day I was on my cell phone (don’t tell Oprah – I am trying hard to make my car a “no phone” zone but I'm not quite there yet.) When I drove by this gentleman, I made eye contact with him. My normal response is to quickly look away. However, on this day I felt a nudge to lock eyes, smile and nod my head acknowledging him. The thought crossed my mind If he’s still there when you leave…give him money.

I forgot about him as I shopped but when I got in my car to head home, he was still on the corner with his sign. Normally the traffic makes it awkward to stop but on this day, no one else was around.

My earlier pledge to give him money returned to me. I didn’t know if this was God’s spirit nudging me or just a random thought. I do know that I have a tendency to ignore this “voice” because it often puts me in uncomfortable situations or at times costs me something. I figured I better listen so I stopped, rolled down my window and handed the man some money.

He graciously accepted the money and “God-blessed” me. Then he said something that opened my eyes, “I saw you on your phone when you came in. You smiled at me. I wanted to tell you that you have a pretty smile.”

Wow – I was temporarily speechless. I regained my composure and told him he’d made my day. I drove off lost in thought. He recognized and remembered me.

So many times I drive by the individuals on the street asking for help and look straight through them. It’s not intentional, but that’s what I do. I figured they do the same with me. They see so many of us a day I assumed they look through us too.

However, it hit me…they see us not see them!

A snowball of thoughts ran through my head. What does it feel like to be invisible? When I’ve “looked through them” in the past, what did I do to their self-worth? Even worse, how does it make God feel? I’ve watched kids on the playground ignore my children as they tried to join in and it broke my heart.

Am I breaking God’s heart as I look through others on the street (think Brandon Heath’s song Give Me Your Eyes)?

I know this is a controversial topic, but is it okay to look at those on the street but not give? Is acknowledging them alone enough? How do you think Jesus wants us to reach out to those on the street who are at a low point in life?

I’m still mulling through this as this gentleman’s words ring fresh in my ears. What are your thoughts? I’d love to hear.

Mark and I like telling the story of when we applied for or marriage license.

We’d just finished with school and wanted to go overseas as missionaries. However, our agency required us to be married for an amount of time before sending us off. So we decided to pick a place and live there for the required time.

We’d always wanted to live out west so we chose Portland, OR. Our plans were to pack up our cars and drive across country after we returned from our honeymoon. We figured we’d find temp jobs and a furnished apartment once we got to Portland.

It sounded like a solid plan to us. Well, at least until we had to say it out loud…

We went to the courthouse to get our marriage license. The clerk who was assisting us asked us, “Where is your place of residence?”

“Uh…we don’t have one. We plan on getting a place in Portland after we marry.”

“Oh, okay.” Nervous laughter. “Well, who is the name of your employer?”

Feeling a little embarrassed now we look at each other, “Um…we’re not sure at the moment. We just finished school and will get something once we’re out there.”

She laughed again and made small talk about the freedom of being young as she typed up our form. She then handed it over to us and asked us to proof it before signing.

We looked at the form and laugh. For our place of residency and employment were two words…

Homeless and Unemployed.

Yep…Mark can never accuse me of marrying him for his money! 

I recently read the book Angry Conversations With God by Susan Isaacs. It’s a memoir of her journey to find faith, love and success as an actress. Dissatisfied in how it all had turned out, she takes God to marital counseling. It’s creatively written and an easy read.

One thing she mentioned in her counseling sessions really struck home with me. She came to the realization that she had married God for his money. The stuff. The “goods” that He promises to bless us with.

Wow…that made me uneasy.

I struggled with this for a while. Did I do the same? Have I married God for his money?

I mean, we read in the Bible how He wants to bless us, provide our every need, give us the abundant life, etc. The Bible even tells us that everything we’ve been given is for our enjoyment (I Tim. 6:17). So is it wrong to want it?

What's the difference between marrying God for His money vs. desiring His blessings?

As I wrestled with this I paid more attention to my prayers. I noticed they were loaded with requests for the goods and God's anointings.

At least they weren’t all just for me, or my family, but I did find my time with God was mainly filled with me asking Him for help and stuff. I wasn’t there to just be with Him, love Him, and get to know Him.

Don’t get me wrong; I feel God wants us to ask. We have not because we ask not, right? I believe God enjoys giving to us the same way I enjoy giving to my children.

However, the times our kids want to just be with me are priceless. When they want to sit on the couch next to me and talk or just be in the room with me as I work – solely because they want my presence to be nearby. These are times I truly treasure.

Does anyone resonate with this?

How do we balance the asking of God with just being with Him and getting to know Him?

Is it even wrong to want to be with God for what He can do for us, through us, with us?

Any thoughts or suggestions?

The other night my daughter came to me with tears. Week’s prior she had been at a friend’s house. While there, she was goofing off and did something that required the mom to correct her. She never told me about the incident but when she overheard me inviting these friends over, she panicked.

“I’m scared. I’m scared she (the mom) doesn’t like me and will tell others what I did and they won’t like me,” she cried. “I keep trying to forget about it but I can’t!”

Initially I had that dread of, “Oh great, what did my kid do this time?” But when she explained the incident to me it was actually quite harmless. Phew! However to a child it felt like she was carrying a boulder.

We talked about it and prayed about it but it she didn’t feel better. I told her to sleep on it and we’d see how she felt in the morning.

The next day she woke still worried about seeing her friend’s mom. I told her perhaps the reason she’s not feeling peace after praying about it is because there’s something else that God wants us to do.

"What about apologizing?"

“No, no! I don’t think I can apologize. I don’t want to do it. I want to forget about it but it’s so hard to! I can’t.”

It hit me then, forgiveness, peace and freedom from this burden she was carrying were right in front of her but she was unwilling to accept what was required to receive it.

I totally understand what she's feeling. It’s hard to go to someone and admit fault and ask for forgiveness. It’s uncomfortable, awkward. Plus, you don’t always know how the other person will respond.

However, I know my friend. There is no doubt in my mind she would lovingly forgive Anastasia and do everything in her power to assure her all is fine.

This whole situation has thrown me. Normally Anastasia has no problem apologizing to us, her family. She knows we love her and will forgive her. However, she doesn’t know my friend that well. To her, the outcome is unknown.

When I wrong someone, it’s easy for me to go to God and ask for forgiveness. He’s family. But also...I don’t have to look Him in the eye. And He’s promised to always forgive us.

However, apologizing to the person I’ve offended…that’s hard. Humans-we’re unpredictable. We’re not always guaranteed of a good outcome. But when we do give genuine apologies, there is a release, a freedom. We know that we’ve done everything in our power to make the situation right and to me it is worth it. Whether they accept our apology or not.

Why is it so hard to apologize to one another?

I’m still working with Anastasia. At the moment she’s still carrying around her burden needlessly. But, I’m at a loss on how to help her.

Any suggestions out there?

Do you think there’s a time to apologize and a time to just let things go?

When we lack peace, do you think it’s a sign that God is asking us to make the step in apologizing?

Let me know what you think!