Sacrifice

 For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.  For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life?  --Matthew 16:25-26


Growing up I learned very early on that following God meant sacrificing for other people.  Losing one's life was defined pretty broadly so that it included even small sacrifices--like not taking the biggest cookie. 
 
So, why am I bringing this up now? 

I'm finding that something I used to think of as pretty black and white isn't.  Sometimes it's really difficult to tell what it looks like to put others first.  Sometimes what looks like putting others first actually is harmful to them and me and isn't really following God at all.  Sometimes it's just people pleasing (to borrow a phrase from Christian pop psychology).

Speaking of which, I really hate to have people mad at me. 

*****Pretend there are wavy lines blurring the picture as I segue into the past for a minute*****

When I was a kid--really all the way into high school--I used to lie all the time.  Like ridiculously often.  And it was usually to avoid having people mad at me.  Sometime near the end of high school, though, I started to really hate the feeling of having things hidden.  It felt awful to know that people I cared about didn't trust me, and that even when they weren't mad at me we weren't close.  How could we be?  They didn't know me because I was keeping so much of myself hidden.  In trying to keep the appearance of closeness I was actually putting up Medieval fortress-like walls complete with moats and alligators.

*****************  Okay, back to present-day *******************

I do my fair share of self-deception, and I am so far from having things figured out that it isn't even funny.  But I'm really really uncomfortable with consciously pretending, so I sometimes tend to say too much--especially in groups.  One time I actually wrote a note to myself to KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT in a particular group because the people in that group were not particularly kind, and there wasn't any particularly good reason to share vulnerable things with that particular group.  Particularly.

Sometimes this tendency puts me in positions where I am the target of people who would rather not hear what I think, but who don't want to just come out and say it.  I've been kicked off a church leadership committee for such a reason.  I don't think I said anything unkindly, but I didn't agree with the higher-ups about how things were running in the children's areas--nothing earth-shattering.  They wanted to hear that the new curriculum was great and was being well-received, and it wasn't.  And me pointing that out was annoying.  Apparently.

And sometimes hearing my personal struggles has been upsetting to people who, for whatever reason, then have felt the need to "confront" me about things that don't really apply to me at all.  And I have been blasted more than once for things that someone has assumed about me because I remind them of someone who did actually do whatever they were then blasting me for.

BTW, please do not hear that I don't think I need to be confronted.  Thankfully I have a number of really good friends (and family) who love me and confront me about things regularly.  (I mean not like on a schedule, but, you know, when I need it--which is pretty regularly.)  They know me and bring things to my attention because they care about me and I am very grateful to them for risking my defensiveness on my behalf.

And that's the crux of my current struggle.  Confronting people who are clearly (at least it seems pretty clear to me) doing something that is destructive to themselves and to others means sacrificing my safety and comfort in order to give them (and maybe the other people they are harming) a gift that they may very well despise me for.  I think it's pretty universal that people don't like having their crap pointed out to them.  And I'm rarely a fan of pointing it out--it usually pisses people off and I think I've been clear that I really don't like that.

But every once in a long while it feels like I am in a position where if I don't say something, Evil wins.  Where it feels like not saying something means that for all intents and purposes I've lied, and that lie has harmed someone.

Does this sound too grand?  Why?  Every story of redemption has an element of the miraculous and a willingness somewhere by someone to sacrifice self for someone else.  Even if it's in a seemingly small way.  (like taking a smaller cookie maybe)

That point in high school when lying suddenly became something that felt awful?  That happened directly because of the willingness of one of my classmates to tell the truth and risk being crucified in the rumor mill by me.  And we weren't even that great of friends at the time.  And we aren't friends now.  But her sacrifice was very formative for me. 

And when telling the truth means that I will be verbally attacked and maligned, there is a part of me that wants to say, "um, good luck with that.  I'm outta here!"  Which I have definitely done sometimes.  But I think the miracle of sacrificing myself for the sake of another is that God is there.  And in the midst of the discomfort, I feel His presence.  Whether my sacrifice means anything to the people I'm standing up to or not, it brings me a little (maybe a lot) closer to being the woman I think God wants me to be.  And that is part of my own personal redemption.  And it is miraculous.

Praying with my son

A while back, my son asked if he could say the bed time prayer.  So of course, I said, "okay, but keep it short."  And then he proceeded to thank God for everything he could think of--effectively extending his bedtime by at least thirty seconds.  Big win for the five year old. 

But it also got me thinking about the way that I pray and the way that Jesus said to pray and the way that I want to pray. 

I think I've mentioned before that I can be kind of a negative person, but I'm also extremely grateful for the grace that I've been given--by other people, but especially by God. 

But I often don't pray that way when I'm praying with my son.  Or in front of anyone for that matter. 

Which has made me realize something else.  I have two types of prayer.  One that I do when I'm "praying," and one that I do when I'm just talking to God while I go about my life. 

When I'm "praying," I've got the "please help me" part down, and also the "thank you for whatever is on the table or happened today" part.  Which I guess is okay for the table...

... but maybe not even then. 

I can assure you that I'm pretty sure I have never asked forgiveness for anything during a public prayer.  And I could also probably count on one hand the number of times I've asked in public for help avoiding temptation or being delivered from evil.  Ditto for pointing out His eternal power and glory (maybe two hands for that one).

The formula is pretty much as follows:  Dear God, thank you for blah blah blah.  Please help us to blah blah blah.  InJesusnameamen.

????????   I ask you: How would you feel if someone talked to you like that??????

That's what I thought.  I would too.  It would almost sound like they didn't really care if you were listening or not.  And that is a really sucky feeling.

This is the God who gave everything for me, and whose opinion is the only thing that gives my life lasting value or significance.  And I'm having regular conversations with Him where I'm almost literally phoning it in. 

And this is the kind of "conversation" my son is witnessing. 

And yet.

Even when I'm being a jerk, He loves me, and that is incredible!  That's the kind of love that is worthy of awe and honesty. 

Both of which require presence.

The thing that makes me really sad is that my real prayers stay hidden away in my head.  And that's the other kind of prayer I do.  In my head.  Where no one else can hear. 

In there I'm talking to God pretty often.  In there I feel Him with me nearly all the time, and we have the kind of conversations that sometimes can't even be put into words.  You know the kind I mean?  Like when you and your BFF silently communicate an entire conversation with just one eyebrow? 

NWR.  No words required.

Amazing isn't it?  The most authentic prayers I pray often contain no words.  They're just me being present with God and not cloaking my thoughts or feelings.  I think this is part of what Jesus meant when He said that to enter Heaven you must be like a child.  Little kids are just like that--uncloaked.  They show whatever they feel right on their faces.

But doing that with God, in my head, is one thing.  How do I get to where I show these things on my face and not just behind my face?  How do I get to where I trust God so much that I'm willing to risk other people looking down on me?  Where His opinion is the only one that matters?  Because let's face it, most people don't really want to hear an honest prayer. 

They want you to "hurry up so we can eat/leave/start the meeting/etc."  Just like I wanted my son to "make it quick" so I wouldn't miss the beginning of the show I was planning to watch as soon as I left his room.

How do I let my son see and hear some of the more honest and real conversations with God that go on where no one else can hear?  How do I let him know that God really listens and really speaks?

I don't have the answers for these questions, but I'm talking a lot to the One who does.  And I'm trying to love my son the way that He loves me.  So maybe that counts for something.  In fact, maybe that is the answer...  Hmmm...

Thoughts?

Forgiveness (part 1)

There is a parable in the New Testament about a man who is forgiven a massive debt, and then he turns around and has another man thrown in jail for being unable to repay a relatively small debt. 
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What is forgiveness? 

Something said after, "I'm sorry"? 

A promise to never talk about something again? 

A commitment to try to forget something terrible done to you? 

Or maybe it's a kindness done in return for a wrong.  Maybe it's a cancellation of a debt, or a taste of grace.

Maybe it's the ultimate kind of trust.


I was in a group of people talking about forgiveness yesterday and the group was asked to consider this question: "What is one hurt that you need to forgive?"  As I was pondering that, I realized that for me, forgiveness is not the first step.  Because in order to forgive in the instance I was thinking about, I have to first decide to trust.  (Notice I said have to--because in this case I still have to do it.)

I have to trust that if I forgive, I will not be destroyed.  I have to trust (unlike the man in the parable) that if I don't get to collect the debt I feel I'm owed, I will not become (emotionally) destitute. 

In my case, forgiveness of the person in question means that I have to accept the pain they have caused.  I have to stop holding it at arms length angrily trying to hand it back to them, and I have to let it in.  And the pain they continue to cause--I have to take in the past knowing that the future likely holds more of the same.  And I can't stop it. 

Doing that requires that I trust that God will be with me in the pain and that He will not allow more than I can bear.  Because from this side of the whole mess, it definitely feels like it will be more than I can bear.  It feels like it will be a whole lot more than I can bear.  Otherwise I would've done it by now.

Anyway, forgiveness means I have to trust in the love and power of a good but unpredictable God.  Trust in Someone who loves me more than anyone else could even hope to, but Whose idea of good involves letting his own son die. 

So I am faced with a question I've been wrestling with my whole life--since long before I could put words to the struggle.  How in the hell do I trust a God who might ask me to sacrifice people I care about?  How do I trust a God who might allow me to suffer?  How do I trust a God who says that the only way to find Life is to DIE?  Who says, "If you love Me, give up everything and everyone else in the world that you care about--including yourself--and follow Me.  Follow me into the desert and trust that I will provide for you."

What will be left if I do that?

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Indeed. 

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This is the crux of the matter then.  To forgive means to trust.  It means to give up my claim to my "own" life and to follow God right into the middle of the desert where the only way to survive is to cling to Him.  It means to be willing to die so that I can find Life in the only place that life exists. 

And that is why I want to do it.

In comparison to all the excellent reasons I may have for not forgiving someone, this one keeps tripping me up.  It's kind of like deciding to sneak out as a teenager--I have a list of like ten reasons to stay home and sleep, really good reasons in fact, but then there's that one reason that just seems irresistable that says to go do it.  Except for the obvious difference that that was a bad idea, and following God is a good one--obviously.

Come to think of it--I just realized why that example came to mind.  Way back when I was a teenager and doing all kinds of things destined to make me miserable in the end, that one reason (whatever it happened to be at the time) seemed like Life to me.  That's why it always won out in the end.  It felt like I would be missing out on "my" life if I didn't go.

And now I feel like that again.  Only this time I really will be missing out on Life if I don't find a way to forgive.  If I don't find a way to trust God and let Him be in charge, then I will be missing out on a kind of Life that I can never create on my own.  I know.  I've been there.  And it haunts me and keeps me looking for more. 

And even though I often (okay--usually) resort to my old tricks of trying to get what I need from people or projects or whatever, I always have this sense that God is right there whispering to me that He is the living water I'm so thirsty for.  And if I could only relax and stop frantically trying to scrounge a few more drops I would instantly be drenched.

And sometimes I do listen and stop what I'm doing.  And sometimes, with some things, it isn't as hard as it is at other times with other things. 

Sometimes it's like, "Hey, don't cut your hair, and you'll have incredible strength."(God)  "What??  That's it.  No sweat, I can do that!"(Me) 

And other times it's like, "Hey, tie your kid to a bunch of sticks and sacrifice him."  "Are you completely insane??!!!  He's the only one I've got!  And You gave him to me!  And I trusted You!"  (Thankfully Abraham had a super human amount of faith by then.)

So yeah, there's still a huge part of me that thinks I can probably get enough life to get by without accepting any more pain than I absolutely have to.  But there's also this part of me that remembers what Life is like when I stop worrying about taking care of myself and I stop worrying about the dangers and privations of the desert, and I just stick with Him.

And that's the thing that keeps slowly trumping all the excellent reasons I have for not forgiving.  Well, that and the constant whispering.  Man, He is persistent!  It's like He really wants me to Live freely or something.  :)

Just an old fashioned love story

Something I've been thinking about a lot lately is love stories.  Not like gushy, sappy, totally inappropriate novels with embarrassing covers--like real love stories.  I don't think I mentioned this before, but I'm getting a divorce right now.  Not this exact moment, but this year.  (OMG--it's taken nearly a whole year!!!)  It was a bad situation, and I'm not gonna write much about it here, but the short version is that it's really really good that we're not together anymore.  I think we were slowly killing each other.  But now, the dilemma...

Dating
cue the scary music.

I think I'm a pretty negative person, and this whole marriage experience certainly hasn't helped me when it comes to having a positive attitude about relationships with the opposite gender.  My general assumption is that men will be uber critical, demeaning, harsh, judgmental, angry, controlling, and generally unpleasant to be around behind closed doors--or in public, if you cross them.  Of course, I would never say that in my head, let alone out loud, but I can tell from the way that I react to the men I know that that's what I really believe.

Messed up. 

It hit me one day when my one year old niece was throwing a tantrum, that I fully expected (and was even physically bracing for) my brother-in-law to lose his temper and yell at her.  You know, get right up in her face and scare the daylights out of her.  Aack!  He's one of the most even-keel and non-temper-losing men I know!  and he loves his daughter, and wants her to feel safe.  And--and this is the biggest one--he loves God and really tries to be like Jesus.  He doesn't just control his rage at this beautiful little girl who was being more annoying than heck right then, he wasn't enraged to begin with.  And it's not because he's so perfect.  It's because he knows the part of himself that wants to throw a tantrum sometimes, and he's known God's grace in those moments.  That's why he can love her when she's being so unlovely.

And that's me, too.  Unlovely.  Often.  And God loves me anyway.  So much so that He made the ultimate sacrifice for me even while I was mid-tantrum and full on thrashing and snotty and screaming because I wasn't getting my way. 

Way back, a year ago, I was a mess and trying to figure out what to do in a marriage that was killing me and my family, and my sister asked me what God had to say about it.  I was ashamed to say that I didn't know.  Hadn't asked.

What!?  You're contemplating messing with something God has really strong feelings about, and you haven't even thought to talk to Him about it?!!?! 

The thing is, I was afraid He would be critical, demeaning, harsh, judgmental, angry, controlling, and generally unpleasant to listen to if I brought it up.  More than that--I was afraid He would be super disappointed in me if I said, "I just can't take this anymore.  I'm thinking about quitting." 

In my book, quitting is the ultimate sin.  I know, I know, it isn't even one of the ten commandments, but I'm pretty sure it's worse than working on Sunday.

Marriage is like...marriage.  It's supposed to be forever.  Not, "oh crap, this is hard!  I think I'm done now."

And I just didn't want to see the look in His eyes or hear the shock and hurt in His voice when I said that I couldn't handle it any more.  It makes me cry just to think about it.  Seriously...tears rolling down right now while I type.

But, you know what?  He wasn't any of those things that I was afraid of.  He was just...kind.  He didn't scold or berate or harangue or anything.  He just said that He loved me and that He would be with me.  Oh, and He told me that He wants me to work on seeing myself the way that He sees me--which is impossible and also really really hard to do, but I'm working on it.

Which brings me back to (dah dah dah dum) DATING.

See, I think people are mirrors for us.  Sometimes they are crazy fun house mirrors (which isn't fun at all, btw), but sometimes they are mirrors that show us what God sees when He looks at us.  Sometimes we see kindness and genuine love reflected in the faces of those we choose to show ourselves to.  And I'm really afraid that I'm going to be drawn to the fun house mirrors and not even know it until the damage has been done.  Again.  And I don't want to be looking in fun house mirrors for the rest of my life.  But there are a lot of them out there.  I know.  I've been one.  And I'll probably be one again for some poor, hapless person who glances at me at the wrong time or in the "wrong" way.

Anyway, God is teaching me to value myself in ways I'm uncomfortable with.  And I think dating is going to be kind of like a series of pop quizzes where each new person will hold up their particular fun house mirror and I'll be like, "oh wait, I know this one...you just see a single mom when you look at me, but God says I'm more than that."  Or, "you think I'm invisible, but I'm just nervous.  God sees me, though, and when I calm down, I can let you see me, too.  I'm worth the wait and the extra effort." 

Some day I want to be part of an awesome love story with an awesome man who doesn't give me a fun house reflection of myself.  (or at least not usually--let's be realistic.)  But until then, and even during then, I'm already in the most awesome love story ever.  Cause God never gives me a fun house reflection of myself.  And He loves me all the time and He will never leave or forsake me.  And the more I learn to see Him with non-fun-house-dazed eyes, the easier it is to recognize the distortions in other people's eyes, and to keep looking at Him.  Oh, and also to see other people accurately so that I don't hold up a fun house mirror to them either.

Good friends and t-shirts

So....

I've got nothin'--no excuses at all here.  I think it's almost May, and I haven't posted a single thing since that second (technically third) post.  And also, I think that last post was pretty boring.  So no offence to me, but I think it would be better if I stay away from talking about gardening stuff.  Ugh...
I hope I don't sound that inane when I talk about that stuff out loud. 

To actual people. 
Who I want to like me, and not start avoiding me like the plague. 

But I suspect it might really be even worse than that.  I must have super awesome friends if that's what they have to put up with, and they're still here. 

Thanks, guys!

Since my last post I've done lots of stuff, but none of it was garden related.  This is a little like Freshman year in college where you change your major every few weeks--except I'm changing the focus of my blog every post or two.  And I'm going to do the same thing I did then, which is just declare right now that there will be no focus.  I'm just gonna (metaphorically) take whatever classes I want to, and then see what major can be made from the classes I took.  :)  Which, incidentally, turned out to be English, and then when I failed a critical test near the end, took a turn toward Psychology, and then finished out *oh never mind, this side note is getting too long.

Speaking of metaphors, a fellow Divorce Care participant had on a t-shirt that made me laugh out loud the other day.  Non-English majors go ahead and roll your eyes now.  It said, "Metaphors be with you" in standard Star Wars font.  It was really awesome.  If anyone who knows me is reading this, I want that shirt for my birthday!

Another shirt I wish I could wear (but it would be weird because I'm so bad at math that it would seem too ironic to be funny) says, "I'm a bomb technician.  If you see me running, try to keep up." 

And then there's the one my sister wears that has a picture of a cute little hedgehog on it and says, "Hedgehogs, why don't they just share the hedge?"  And the word bubble over the picture says, "No."  Who comes up with these things?  So much funnier than "I'm with stupid -->"!

Projects:  well, there's too many to list, but the top two at the moment are to get ahead of my bills, and to transform my front yard into a sustainable, edible, beautiful oasis that contains no grass and requires minimal watering.  I'm fairly sure that both of these objectives are possible given enough time and creativity. 

To that end I have enrolled in an online envelope budgeting system that lets me import my banking info into a very mobile ledger which makes faces at me when I'm spending too much from my budget categories, and I have cut back my seed buying from roughly $60 to about $25.  That $25 in seeds is much more goal-oriented, though.  Usually I just buy what looks interesting and I think will survive our brutal summers.  This year I focused on things that will survive, produce well, and be perennial or nearly perennial.

For example, grain chuffa.  It looks like monkey grass, but it produces little tubers that are edible, and apparently taste a bit sweet and nutty.  I think I will start it in a few areas that I know I will need border plants--like in the parkway and around the mailbox.  Currently I have lots and lots of Liriope, so that will eventually need to be replaced by something that is actually useful--or at least potentially useful.

I also bought sorghum seeds because it's tall and (I think) pretty, and I've always wanted to try making molasses.  Then there's the bunching onions.  I'm a bit nervous about those because I haven't ever had good luck with onions from seed, but I'm hoping automatic lights and self-watering seed trays will help with that.  Usually small stuff like that gets a couple of inches tall and then I forget to water it one day and I come in to find it flopped over and looking disturbingly like a dried up earthworm on the sidewalk the hot and sunny day after a big rain. 

There are a few other seeds, and a couple that I really want, but still need to find and order, but if my other main project is going to succeed, then I can't order them until late next week.

Speaking of which, I think I'll update more on that next week sometime.  I hate spending money to fix a cash flow problem, but I hired a financial advisor to help me work out some of the more unusual and short term issues I'm currently having, and I have to say that so far it has been more than worth it.  My financial advisor is awesome, and it makes me feel so much better to know that someone who knows what she's doing is looking out for me.  I can wade through financial stuff and mostly understand it, but it's like reading and translating a foreign language.  She's fluent in that language, though, and she's really good at explaining in my language what she reads in the number language of my financial statements.  It takes her about five minutes to do what takes me an hour.

My original intent in starting this blog was to document some of the projects I do so that my "reinvent-the-wheel-every-time" strategy might evolve into something a bit less cumbersome and failure prone.  In particular, I want my projects to get cheaper as I get more efficient.  Unfortunately, the names I wanted were already taken, and I think the blog should be at least somewhat tied to the name.  So I will simply have to change the focus a bit from what I wanted to do.

BTW, I hope to be good one day about taking pictures and putting them into these posts, but for tonight I will stick to words--I know that if anyone is reading this I probably just lost you, but tough, it's my blog.

The last six months have brought a lot of changes in my life, and I have learned a ton about life, the universe, and everything, but I'm not going to share those new and vulnerable thoughts until I feel a bit safer here. I'm new to this kind of thing, so bear with me. I'm sure I'll open up more when I start to feel more comfortable here.  It's weird in here--kind of like the training room in the offline Matrix--I imagine I'm sitting in a plain white room that's kind of echo-y.  If you haven't seen The Matrix, you should--just the first one, though.  There are lots of useful parallels to real life, but judging from the second and third ones, I think they were accidental.

I feel I should give a little bit of background about me, but I think I'll leave out the personal stuff for now--still not ready to commit on that level yet.  I have lots of hobbies--in fact, learning new hobbies is probably my real hobby.  Forever, it was reading and gardening, but I don't have time to read much anymore, and I don't really have a garden at the moment, so I guess my new hobby is blogging.  It's a strange hobby to try out, because I'm a very private person generally.  In fact someone asked me recently if my Facebook profile had a virus, because the only things posted were put there by other people. 

I'm a big Tolkein fan, and the thing that comes to mind just now is from The Hobbit (3movies?!).  Bilbo says, "It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door."  This blog feels a little like going out my front door, and I must say that I'm a bit nervous about where it will lead.  I'm not really sure if I'm more afraid of it going somewhere, or nowhere.  I think I'd better just hit, "Publish" and not think about it too much.