Russell Media - Laurie

Every Thursday morning I attend a Bible study at our church. We are reading through the Bible and as you can imagine, we have lots of questions. Some of the hard ones that baffle the minds of scholars, others are childlike and a number are based on curiosity alone.

We covered I Chronicles this week when someone asked the question, “Why was David able to hear God’s voice so clearly?” Was it because he and God have a special relationship? Was it reserved just for David or is this something we can have too?

This spurned talk and theories as we tackled the topic - the Holy Spirit – positioning ourselves to hear God – knowing His voice and many other explanations were discussed. But how do you know it’s God’s voice that we are hearing and not our own chatter that rambles around in our head?

Okay, we know that the Holy Spirit doesn’t tell us anything that contradicts the Bible but what about the silly little things that happen during the day, like, “Should I stop home and make a ham sandwich for lunch or should I save time and hit a drive-thru and begin my errands sooner?

Now this may seem like a frivolous question but it’s the exact one that entered my head after Bible study. I attempt to hear God I did a generic prayer, “God, how’s the best way to use my time?” I passing near our home and felt a “leaning” to make lunch there but I had a long “to do” list and didn’t want to waste the time “getting out of the car.” (Yep, I wouldn’t have done well in ancient times where I’d have to kill my meal first.) So I chose fast food.

Now I won’t go into details, though it’s tempting, but let’s just say I had a fender bender that left the front bumper of my little Subaru with a scratch and a small dent on the rear bumper on a Tahoe, meaning…it was my fault. Thankfully it was minor and no one was hurt but as we waited for the police I found myself asking, “God was that ‘leaning’ to stop at home really from You?”

I thought another thing we talked about at Bible study. God wants to talk with all of His children. Those who hear Him clearly are often the ones that are focused on Him and know His voice.

I want to speak with both of my children. I love them equally. I can have them both sit on the couch in order to tell them something, however, if one of them is looking at the TV, distracted by it, he or she will not hear me as clearly as the one looking at me and focusing on what I’m trying to communicate.

I was distracted by my “to do” list and I chose to tune into it instead of the direction God was giving me. My mishap could have been avoided if I had focused in. I wouldn’t have interrupted the lady in the other car’s day and I would be $85 richer.

I wrote a similar blog on this recently but the consequences were more serious. Here I am dealing with it again. Maybe God is trying to tell me something. Slow down. Look left and right and listen for His voice. He’s trying to tell me which way to go.

Do you ever hear God speak to you in a leaning?

Is it easy or hard for you to trust and follow it?

Does God ever feel silent? I’ve often wondered why He speaks in a “still small voice,” especially since we live in a culture full of noise. I guess it’s much the same with my kids. They have an innate ability to tune me out if I yell at them (they obviously inherited this trait from their father) but when I speak quietly to them they are more likely to tune in.

I, on the other hand, have a hard time hearing unless it’s spoken with a raised voice. The background noise surrounding my life often camouflages His quiet Spirit. Then again, maybe it’s not the noise that keeps me from hearing Him speak. Perhaps it’s my busyness.

Many years ago we lived in Germany and rented an old row house. It was narrow but three stories high and had marble stairs that twisted their way to the top. Our youngest, Anastasia, was 2-years-old at the time and these stairs were a nightmare. She followed me everywhere and often slipped on the narrow edge of the winding stairway.

One day we had a friend who was coming for a visit and I was on the third floor cleaning the guest bathroom. Anastasia played in the bedroom while I worked getting everything ready for our friend. The building’s old plumbing was acting up so I used a crystal form of Draino in hopes of loosening the clog in the pipes.

Once I was done with my chores I headed down the stairs with Anastasia tagging along behind me. Whenever she was with me I’d often try to consolidate my chores to limit the running up and down the stairs and thus lessening the chance of her tumbling down them.

So I stopped on the second floor to gather the laundry before heading down to the ground floor. I put the spoon I had been using with the crystal Draino on a ledge above a sink. Instantly I heard a voice in me say, “The spoon is not safe there. Don’t leave it.” But I was in a hurry and ignored it. I’m only going to be here 30 seconds.

Moments later I heard a horrific scream coming from Anastasia. She had placed the spoon in her mouth and the crystals that had been stuck to the spoon were now eating away the lining of her mouth. Luckily we were in a bathroom and I immediately began rinsing out her mouth but it was still instantly deformed with swollen lips and tongue.

Next came the E.R., endoscopy and an overnight stay in the pediatric ICU. I cuddled with her and looked at all of the tubes coming out of her little body and had the nerve to ask God, “Why didn’t you warn me?!”

It was then I remembered that He had. He was the voice inside of me telling me clearly the spoon was not safe on the ledge but I was to busy working to clean my house so our guest would be impressed (surely not with my parenting skills).

We were blessed in that Anastasia’s esophagus was only minimally burned and the greater burns in her mouth healed quickly but the memories of that accident are scarred in my heart.

It wasn’t the constant chatter of a 2-year-old that prevented me from hearing God that day – it was the busyness and my need to impress a friend. I was more concerned with hearing the applause of man instead of listening to a warning from God.

I learned my lesson but it was at my daughter’s expense. God may at times speak quietly but it’s always clear.

Does the drive to impress others ever drown out your ability to hear God?

How do you decipher His voice?

“Okay Laura, you live in Chile now. I will kiss you when you arrive and when you leave.”

Wow! I never expected to hear these words at a doctor’s appointment. What may have sounded like the beginnings of a lawsuit was actually my doctor sharing with me a part of his culture. We were living in Santiago, Chile and had just learned I was pregnant with our first child. We would be seeing a lot of this doctor and he was preparing his new American patient how he would be greeting me on each visit. Mark chuckled behind me as he watched me awkwardly kiss my doctor on the cheek.

I had read about this custom in books as we prepared for our move to Chile. Chileans greet each other with a kiss on the cheek and repeat it when they depart. Men would generally give each other a handshake or hug, depending on the relationship, but women always kissed everyone.

We were introduced to this custom immediately. We lived with a Chilean family our first two weeks. They were incredible and quickly became our adopted family. Each morning began with a kiss on the cheek and each “good bye” required another kiss.

It felt natural to do this with close friends and it quickly became second nature for me. However, the Chileans didn’t save this custom for just friends. In social settings they greeted everyone this way, friends and strangers alike.

One evening, we were hanging out with our Chilean family. Some of their friends dropped by unannounced. The room was crowded and we were sitting on the other side of the table. When our friends introduced us to the visitors they didn’t just nod at us and continue talking with our hosts. Nope – they moved furniture, squeezed behind people, worked their way over to us and greeted me with a kiss and Mark with a handshake and pat on the back.

I had never had anyone work so hard to meet me! It made me feel special, as if my presence mattered.

I thought, perhaps we received a special greeting because we were with their good friends. But this behavior continued – and not just with us. I watched teenagers do the same with each other as they greeted one another in the mall. Friends pushed through crowded buses to kiss and say hello to each other.

One time a friend passed me on the other side of the street. They quickly crossed through busy traffic in order to say hello and briefly catch up. I couldn’t believe the effort this person made in order to acknowledge my presence. It was nice.

Many times in life, I’ve been surrounded by people yet still felt alone – a conference or party where I didn’t know anyone else. It’s an uncomfortable feeling. People are deep into conversation and either don’t notice you or they’re too tired or uncomfortable themselves to make the effort and say “hello” to a stranger or even an acquaintance.

Paul mentioned numerous times to “greet one another with a holy kiss” (Rom. 16:16; 1 Cor. 16:20; 2 Cor. 13:12). I’ve always breezed past this verse. I don’t know why, maybe because it’s not part of our culture. But the verse is not about the kiss; it’s about the greeting. The Chileans modeled for me the importance of welcoming and the acknowledging one another. People have an innate desire to know they have been seen. From an early age, babies will work to make eye contact. This is how they first know love. It’s a horrible feeling to be ignored.

I’m shy by nature so this Chilean custom initially took me out of my comfort zone but it felt good when I was the recipient and therefore nudged me to give this back to others.

Now that I’m back in our own culture, there have been times where I allowed myself to hide in a crowd. Sometimes it’s just easier. But God created me to love and bless others and that takes effort. How can we love one another if we ignore one another? So go out, enjoy you day and greet one another with a holy kiss (or at least genuine greeting).

What are your thoughts on this?

Do you feel our culture is as skilled in greeting one another?

Have you experienced something similar in other cultures?

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?

Ah, it’s summer! I love it. The longer days allow for early morning runs and evening swims. It’s a time to recuperate from the battles of helping with homework to the numerous hours spent watching unlimited baseball and soccer games. Of course the extra free time means the kids have even more energy and the quest to figure out how to expend that vigor begins.

Many of our kids’ friends attend some of the day camps around town. The past few summers we traveled a good bit and weren’t home enough to make it feasible to go any, however, this summer we decided to stay local so I began researching the camps.

OMG! (Don’t worry. “G” stands for Gosh.) There are so many camps out there. I was overwhelmed. They all sounded incredible, so many choices. I was tempted to sign up for all of them and fill our summer going from camp to camp. But the reality of a budget knocked that pull out of me.

I finally decided on a camp that one of our friends cofounded and co-runs, SimBale Sports, LLC. It’s a sports camp that integrates physical techniques with tools for a positive mental attitude. They teach the kids how to set personal goals and back it with skills to meet them via various sports and activities. It sounded great in theory, so we signed up.

Okay, I have to pause here and make a confession. Another reason I signed our kids up for camp this summer is so I would have a few hours a day for one week to catch up. Our house is a wreck and I’m behind on many projects. The busy spring schedule put my A.D.D. in full drive and my long “to do” list is filled with half-finished jobs. I figured this would be my time to do it all and then the rest of summer would be peacefully organized.

Yeah, right.

Well, today was the last day of our camp and nothing has been crossed off of my list. Actually, since I am in confession mode I might as well add that I have yet to write out a physical list. It’s still only mentally in my head and tortures me each night as I try to sleep.

The kids came home from camp today with these journals. My friend and her partner coached the kids each day with quotes and tips, motivating them on how to fulfill their personal goals. They were eager to show them to me so we sat on the couch and went through each one. They were filled with some great insight that really helped me with my “to do” list problem.

One quote my daughter paraphrased in her journal…

            While most are dreaming of success, winners wake up and work hard to achieve.

This quote inspired me. I’m filled with dreams but they’re only going to happen if I proactively work and strive to make them happen, praying for wisdom and guidance along the way. Too many dreams are fading away as time passes.

So I decided to take a power nap. Yep, I know that’s probably not what you were thinking I might say but it’s amazing what a twenty-minute rest will do for my thinking. There is also a need for balance. Being still is not the same as doing nothing just as being busy is not equal to being productive. After the nap my mind was clear and my body was ready to work.

I was reminded that being a winner doesn’t mean you strive to be the best but rather giving and being your best. I want to know in the end that I lived this principle. I want to model this work ethic to my kids and for them to see me giving my best for them, my best to God and my best for others.

Too many times in my life I’ve been given incredible opportunities but my lack of focus and attention caused my good intentions to end up with me just getting by.

So, I’m glad we’re staying home this summer. I think I’ll sit still in the morning and make out a list and pray for God to help me prioritize it. At the end of the day, when the kids are in bed, I think I’ll start working on my book.

Do you have any suggestions or strategies to share on how to be productive?

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!

The other day, Mark and I did our first bike ride together of the season. We each had less than an hour available but felt the need for a quick workout. So we chose a location near our house.

Since our time was limited, I thought it would more of a chance to just do something together vs. getting a “real” workout. Boy I was wrong…the wind made sure of it.

The weather looked beautiful…perfect cycling weather. From our window it looked cool and calm, however, within the moments of hitting the road, I realized that “calm” wasn’t the best word to describe it.

The wind blew on and off as we left our neighborhood as if warning us of what lay ahead. We knew as we got closer to the river and moved towards the dam that it would only get worse.

We turned out of our neighborhood and onto a main road that led us down to the river. The wind slapped us in the face. In minutes it moved from blasting our fronts to pushing on our sides as we crossed the bridge. Gusts of wind made random attempts to blow us over. I’m still a newbie to road biking. I found if I coasted I felt more vulnerable but if I pedaled I was more secure.

We approached the entry to the Greenbelt, the paved path that runs along the Boise River. We were heading towards Lucky Peak Dam when the wind once more hit us head on. Mark and I rode next to each other, attempting to talk, but the wind’s whistling made it hard to hear each other. Periodically I had to move over behind him as another cyclists approached us from the other direction. It gave me moments of rest as I rode in Mark’s stream and his body blocked some of the wind from me.

When we reached the dam, I looked at my watch. It had taken a longer than normal. I mentioned this to Mark and he smiled, “Yes, but on the way home we’ll have the wind at our backs pushing us along.” It did and it was noticeably easier. We went from the wind’s resistance to its assistance.

Life is a lot like the wind. From a distance it may look like a gentle breeze but once you’re out in it, you realize the winds around you are strong. You don’t always know which direction it’s going to hit. It may be pushing you along and then in an instance it changes directions and threatens to knock you over.

It’s easier to ride with the wind is on our backs, helping to push us along. We save energy and go faster. However, easier is not always best, especially when we have a destination to reach. God has given us each our own goals to obtain. We may face resistance but it often makes us stronger and clarifies where we’re to go.

Here are some lessons I learned on my ride…

1. When we coast we may save energy but it can make us vulnerable to forces trying to knock us down. There are times to coast and rest but if you do it too long, you eventually stop.
2. Riding against the wind requires more energy but it makes us stronger (my legs are feeling it today!)
3. It’s wise to work as a team. Riding in your partner’s stream will give you periodic breaks from the full force of the wind. Just be sure to return the favor.
4. When the wind is on your back, utilize it and enjoy it. However, be prepared for sudden changes.
5. Take advantage of each opportunity to spend time with your spouse, friend, partner, etc. Enjoy it to its max and never take them for granted. You’ll learn a lot along the way.

Noah, our 9-year-old, was in a slump recently…a little league batting slump that is. He was hitting well the beginning of the season then in one game, three of his teammates hit homeruns…over the fence! It was awesome and homerun was a goal to obtain.

Noah came home that day talking about the homeruns and even prayed for one of his own. The next game I noticed anxiety in his body language. His fingers rolled, hips swayed and his nose wrinkled. He wanted a homerun and it showed in his swing. On each pitch he swung as if he were fighting off a charging mountain lion.

Swoosh... 

He managed to get on base most of the time but the quality of his hits had suffered. The slump continued for a few games and it began eating away at his confidence. I noticed a new nervousness in his stance during the games and a quietness in his persona afterwards.

Mark worked with him on his batting. One day he called Noah’s coach, Aaron, to see if the batting cages were open. He told Mark he was heading up there with his son and invited Mark and Noah to join him and he’d work with Noah too. When they got there, another teammate was there. He had some trouble with batting in the last game and Aaron called and invited him to join them.

Later that evening Mark came home he told me about it. We were both amazed with Aaron’s dedication to the boys on his team. He travels a good bit with work so he doesn’t have an abundance of free time. So sharing the free time he has with his son with other people’s kids is pretty huge.

Last night Anastasia had a Daisy meeting. So I dropped her off and Noah and I went across the street to practice batting. He was hitting like crazy. He was smiling and enjoying the time. His confidence had increased. I commented on the improvement to which he said, “Coach Aaron told me when to lift my foot and when to swing the bat. Now I know when to do it.”

You see, I never would have known to tell him this but that tidbit of knowledge is helping him improve in his hitting. For a 9-year-old who loves baseball, this knowledge is huge and helping him to feel whole. This is important to him in this time in his life and it’s spilling over into other areas.

There’s a passage in the Bible when children wanted to spend time with Jesus. Adults around him were shooing them away thinking Jesus was too important to spend his free time with kids. Jesus quickly admonished the adults and invited the children to join him. He knew He had something to offer that they needed…his time and his wisdom.

I adore my children and try to give them what they need to help them become their best. But there are some things in life I just don’t know (okay…a lot of things.) Coach Aaron didn’t brush off my kid and his teammate that day, he invited them in. He shared with them his time and knowledge.

Now I’m not saying we should all go teach Sunday school or coach our kid’s team. Do only what God has asked of you. However, my point is whenever you are with children, don’t consider it wasted. You’re making an impact on their lives and helping them grow into the man or woman they are to become.

Coach Aaron gave to Noah that day and last night I saw how he had grown because of it. So to the coach Aarons of the world, I thank you. You are a blessing to our children and to us. Thank you for challenging me to do the same.

Do you have a “Coach Aaron” in your life?

Any ideas on ways we can become one ourself?