I've been doing some reading lately, and I'm starting to look at my life differently because of it. Somehow, Ted Dekker's books point my vision to a place beyond what I can see, to a world of possibilities and the kingdom of God. Reading his books makes me hungry for something more in my life, and I realize that even though I think I'm doing well following God, there's still a little more of me that I can give up and a little more of Him that I need. Okay, a lot more.
As I sit here typing, I'm thinking of the morning I just had. I actually read a bit from my bible at breakfast this morning, and I came across this verse: "If you try to keep your life for yourself, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for me, you will find true life" (Matthew 16:25). Then, as I ate my lunch later on, I was reading Olive Shoots Around Your Table by John Visser (which my ladies' group is doing a study on), and I came across the same verse.
Gradually, as I looked around my kitchen, seeing the pot of coffee warming, the cupcakes cooling on the stovetop, the dishes by the sink waiting to be washed, the cabinet full of knick knacks and bowls of fruit, I started to see past the ordinary things that I view every day. In essence, I started to look past the happy, complacent feeling I get when I survey my domain, and I started to want something else. Something far more, and yet somehow, far less. I wanted the kingdom of God. I wanted to push past the ordinary and live an extraordinary life.
I'm not sure how to do that, though. Do we pick up and move to a mud hut in the middle of the jungle? Do I do a major de-cluttering session and donate everything to charity? I have a feeling that the answer is something much more intangible, much less simple, and much more frightening. To put it the way Ted Dekker did in A Man Called Blessed, I think I need to step off the cliff. I'm just not sure where the cliff is.
But suddenly, I really want to find it. It's like God has pulled back a veil from my eyes and my heart, and the desire for his kingdom is becoming stronger than my desire for a safe, comfortable life. I don't know what's happening to me exactly, but I'm excited. And I'm praying that whatever He's doing in my heart, He'll keep going.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Monday, December 10, 2007
Solving the Christmas Mystery
As of this summer, I have been married for five years. Over these five years, I've learned a lot about my husband, but one thing has always puzzled me: Christmas. Why does he say he hates Christmas?
To me, everything about the season is lovely and magical and happy. I love the lights, and the tree, and the cookies, and the eggnog, and the music, and the -- well. You get my point. But to Dave, all of these lovely things seem to be torture of the worst kind. And the more I tried to get him to like it, the more he'd groan and resist.
Well, this year, we had a breakthrough. I'm finally starting to understand what drives him so crazy, and -- horror of horrors! -- I kind of know what he's talking about.
It all started when one Saturday, to my surprise, he suggested we put the Christmas tree up. My husband? Actually wanting to decorate the tree? But it was still November, and, as delighted as I was, I remarked, "But honey, I haven't made any Christmas cookies yet! We can't decorate the tree without sugar cookies to eat and eggnog to drink."
When he threw up his hands in disgust and said, "Forget it," I knew I was on dangerous ground. Here we were, finally at a place where he was willing to participate in Christmas activities, and somehow, I was blowing it. What was wrong? Didn't he like cookies?
It was in the next couple minutes that I learned something quite profound. Something that we adults all seem to know, deep down inside, but we ignore for the sake of tradition and holiday cheer.
Christmas is too complicated.
My low-key, laid-back, tired-because-work-is-so-busy husband just wanted to do something fun with the kids. And I wanted to make it complicated with all my talk of shortbread and hot chocolate. All that work was taking the fun out of Christmas, he said.
Isn't it just so true? As an adult, I had slowly been realizing the same thing. Now that it's my responsibility to clean up after the kids and bake delectable goodies and make sure everyone gets a fair amount of gifts, Christmas has been getting less and less fun every year. But I blew the feeling off, thinking that if I could just have a little more time to do everything just right, it would become fun again. My philosophy was basically that enough sugar cookies and lighted fake evergreen garlands could bring back the magic of my childhood Christmases.
Boy, was I wrong.
So now, in an effort to sincerely make the best Christmas for my husband and children, I'm trying a new philosophy: Simplicity.
It's not as easy as it sounds. I'm really struggling with trying to figure out nice, inexpensive, thoughtful gifts that take no time. And, as much as we try to clear our schedule, there are just some holiday events that we don't want to miss. I'm cutting back on my baking, but I don't want to go without any cookies. And, the less I want to do myself, the more I have to spend to get someone else to do it for me.
I can tell that simplifying Christmas could be difficult, but I'm willing to give it my best shot. After all, my favourite part of the season isn't really the lights, or the tree, or the cookies, or the eggnog, or the music. It's the birthday. And that birthday was really, ultimately, about one thing: Love.
So why should our Christmas be about anything else?
To me, everything about the season is lovely and magical and happy. I love the lights, and the tree, and the cookies, and the eggnog, and the music, and the -- well. You get my point. But to Dave, all of these lovely things seem to be torture of the worst kind. And the more I tried to get him to like it, the more he'd groan and resist.
Well, this year, we had a breakthrough. I'm finally starting to understand what drives him so crazy, and -- horror of horrors! -- I kind of know what he's talking about.
It all started when one Saturday, to my surprise, he suggested we put the Christmas tree up. My husband? Actually wanting to decorate the tree? But it was still November, and, as delighted as I was, I remarked, "But honey, I haven't made any Christmas cookies yet! We can't decorate the tree without sugar cookies to eat and eggnog to drink."
When he threw up his hands in disgust and said, "Forget it," I knew I was on dangerous ground. Here we were, finally at a place where he was willing to participate in Christmas activities, and somehow, I was blowing it. What was wrong? Didn't he like cookies?
It was in the next couple minutes that I learned something quite profound. Something that we adults all seem to know, deep down inside, but we ignore for the sake of tradition and holiday cheer.
Christmas is too complicated.
My low-key, laid-back, tired-because-work-is-so-busy husband just wanted to do something fun with the kids. And I wanted to make it complicated with all my talk of shortbread and hot chocolate. All that work was taking the fun out of Christmas, he said.
Isn't it just so true? As an adult, I had slowly been realizing the same thing. Now that it's my responsibility to clean up after the kids and bake delectable goodies and make sure everyone gets a fair amount of gifts, Christmas has been getting less and less fun every year. But I blew the feeling off, thinking that if I could just have a little more time to do everything just right, it would become fun again. My philosophy was basically that enough sugar cookies and lighted fake evergreen garlands could bring back the magic of my childhood Christmases.
Boy, was I wrong.
So now, in an effort to sincerely make the best Christmas for my husband and children, I'm trying a new philosophy: Simplicity.
It's not as easy as it sounds. I'm really struggling with trying to figure out nice, inexpensive, thoughtful gifts that take no time. And, as much as we try to clear our schedule, there are just some holiday events that we don't want to miss. I'm cutting back on my baking, but I don't want to go without any cookies. And, the less I want to do myself, the more I have to spend to get someone else to do it for me.
I can tell that simplifying Christmas could be difficult, but I'm willing to give it my best shot. After all, my favourite part of the season isn't really the lights, or the tree, or the cookies, or the eggnog, or the music. It's the birthday. And that birthday was really, ultimately, about one thing: Love.
So why should our Christmas be about anything else?
Driving... Me Crazy
I don't know how much you know about me, but let me give you a brief glimpse into my life. I am a mother of four little boys, the last two of whom are 7-month-old twins. My oldest is 3 and a half, and my middle son is turning two any day now. Life, for me, is either simple or extremely not simple, depending on the day.
Take, for instance, last week. I had three doctor's appointments to go to, none of them for me, and all of them requiring a babysitter for the other boys. Looking back, I don't think I loaded them all into the van as often as it feels like, but in my emotional memory, it was about 200 times. Each. With each of these times requiring the preparation of bottles, the packing of diapers and clean clothes, the applying and re-applying of mittens, and all the chasing and coaxing needed to get two little toddlers into boots and coats. Oh, and then the realization that I was already five minutes late leaving, but I still hadn't eaten anything yet that day.
And there, in the back of my mind all week, was this thought: "What about your website, Amanda? When are you going to write more? When are you going to find more, really cool, very interesting gift ideas? It IS the Christmas season, after all..." That's right. I found myself a wonderful, work-from-home "job" that I'm the boss of, and now it's nagging me, too! But, I have to say that, just like I love my kids even when they're a lot of work, I also love this website.
I love thinking of new ideas, and hearing how it's affected other people, and listening for God's voice in my life so I can share what I'm learning. And I love the feeling that, even though I'm a stay-at-home mom with a pile of dishes to do and stories to read, I can have a relationship with other people out there who might feel like I did last week.
So come visit me often, and leave me your stories to read, too. Then, the next time I'm loading four squirming boys into the car to go somewhere, I'll at least be able to smile about my new friends.
Take, for instance, last week. I had three doctor's appointments to go to, none of them for me, and all of them requiring a babysitter for the other boys. Looking back, I don't think I loaded them all into the van as often as it feels like, but in my emotional memory, it was about 200 times. Each. With each of these times requiring the preparation of bottles, the packing of diapers and clean clothes, the applying and re-applying of mittens, and all the chasing and coaxing needed to get two little toddlers into boots and coats. Oh, and then the realization that I was already five minutes late leaving, but I still hadn't eaten anything yet that day.
And there, in the back of my mind all week, was this thought: "What about your website, Amanda? When are you going to write more? When are you going to find more, really cool, very interesting gift ideas? It IS the Christmas season, after all..." That's right. I found myself a wonderful, work-from-home "job" that I'm the boss of, and now it's nagging me, too! But, I have to say that, just like I love my kids even when they're a lot of work, I also love this website.
I love thinking of new ideas, and hearing how it's affected other people, and listening for God's voice in my life so I can share what I'm learning. And I love the feeling that, even though I'm a stay-at-home mom with a pile of dishes to do and stories to read, I can have a relationship with other people out there who might feel like I did last week.
So come visit me often, and leave me your stories to read, too. Then, the next time I'm loading four squirming boys into the car to go somewhere, I'll at least be able to smile about my new friends.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Guilt, guilt, and a little more guilt
Wow. I have so many ideas for this website. There are so many directions it could take, features it could have.
But I'm actually finding it really hard to work on lately. It's like my brain has just gone blank most of the day! I drink my coffee to get me going, and then I sit and watch Timothy Goes to School with my three-year-old. I can't seem to get out of that comfy chair. And I can't seem to clear the fog out of my brain.
I'm looking out my window right now, and it's a beautiful, sunny autumn day outside. The grass is still green, and if it weren't for the bare branches on the trees, I could almost imagine it was still summertime. I keep thinking I should go outside, but do you know how hard it is to get outside when you have four little kids (two of them infants) and it's nap time?
And yet, even though I have legitimate reasons for staying in, I feel horribly guilty that I'm not romping out in the sandbox with my kids while they enjoy the fresh air.
In fact, I feel guilty about just about everything these days. I worry that I'm not a good enough mother because I can't do the things with my kids that I'd like to be able to do right now. I feel bad that I haven't added any more content to YourEncouragement.com. I even feel guilty that I'm doing the dishes instead of cleaning out the kitty litter!
Believe me, I fully see the irony that I am now struggling with the last thing that I actually wrote about on my site. I realize that I'm probably focusing on all the negative things instead of the positive ones, and I should stop it. Yet all I can think is that it's only the beginning of November, and I still have months of winter left to endure, and I'm already so tired of it.
And the kitty-litter fairy still hasn't shown up.
And all my files are still laying on the floor where my son dumped them last month.
And I haven't seen the surface of my desk since last spring.
I guess getting past guilt is a process. Maybe, every day, every minute even, for the rest of my life, I'll have to be telling myself good things instead of listening to the bad. Something tells me happy thoughts won't just show up on their own. Maybe I have to search for them, and then write them on my hands, on my walls, on my bathroom mirror.
So here: I'll start with something good right now. I just wrote a blog post! I'm about to get up and feed a baby, who is absolutely adorable. My oldest son is laughing hysterically at something on TVO Kids. And the caffeine is starting to kick in.
But I'm actually finding it really hard to work on lately. It's like my brain has just gone blank most of the day! I drink my coffee to get me going, and then I sit and watch Timothy Goes to School with my three-year-old. I can't seem to get out of that comfy chair. And I can't seem to clear the fog out of my brain.
I'm looking out my window right now, and it's a beautiful, sunny autumn day outside. The grass is still green, and if it weren't for the bare branches on the trees, I could almost imagine it was still summertime. I keep thinking I should go outside, but do you know how hard it is to get outside when you have four little kids (two of them infants) and it's nap time?
And yet, even though I have legitimate reasons for staying in, I feel horribly guilty that I'm not romping out in the sandbox with my kids while they enjoy the fresh air.
In fact, I feel guilty about just about everything these days. I worry that I'm not a good enough mother because I can't do the things with my kids that I'd like to be able to do right now. I feel bad that I haven't added any more content to YourEncouragement.com. I even feel guilty that I'm doing the dishes instead of cleaning out the kitty litter!
Believe me, I fully see the irony that I am now struggling with the last thing that I actually wrote about on my site. I realize that I'm probably focusing on all the negative things instead of the positive ones, and I should stop it. Yet all I can think is that it's only the beginning of November, and I still have months of winter left to endure, and I'm already so tired of it.
And the kitty-litter fairy still hasn't shown up.
And all my files are still laying on the floor where my son dumped them last month.
And I haven't seen the surface of my desk since last spring.
I guess getting past guilt is a process. Maybe, every day, every minute even, for the rest of my life, I'll have to be telling myself good things instead of listening to the bad. Something tells me happy thoughts won't just show up on their own. Maybe I have to search for them, and then write them on my hands, on my walls, on my bathroom mirror.
So here: I'll start with something good right now. I just wrote a blog post! I'm about to get up and feed a baby, who is absolutely adorable. My oldest son is laughing hysterically at something on TVO Kids. And the caffeine is starting to kick in.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Our Honesty Shows God's Grace
I was talking to a friend of mine today, and we were talking about our depression! How crazy is that? It's amazing how many of us are out there, but we don't always find each other!
I can't tell you how many times I've mentioned to someone that I'm taking meds for seasonal affective disorder or clinical depression (which is what we thought I had at first), only to have them say to me, "Hey, I'm on meds for that too! But I've never told anyone outside my family."
Why are we so afraid to share this with each other?
Okay, I know the answer to that. There are lots of people out there who just don't get it. And we're tired of having them look at us weird or tell us to snap out of it.
But here's what I have to say about it: Stand up and be counted! Don't be ashamed of mental illness. It's a physical condition that is just, in many ways, beyond our control. I'm not embarrassed about my depression. I find it inconvenient, annoying, infuriating, and frustrating on many levels, but Thank God! He has shown me that it doesn't make me any less valuable as a human being.
And it doesn't make me a bad Christian.
It took me a while to realize this. I was bogged down with guilt over my inability to be a "good Christian." But you know what happened? As I was lying in my bed, totally incapable of getting up and going to supper because it seemed too hard, scary, and stressful (and I did this for weeks, only eating when my roommate forced me to), I cried out to God. I just gave up trying to do anything, and I felt horribly guilty about it. My cry wasn't even coherent, really, more like a vague "Help! I can't go on!" And it seemed like he kept directing me to read the book of Galatians in the bible.
You know what the theme of Galatians is? (It took me a while, in my state of mind, to figure this out, but it finally got through.) God didn't save me because of anything I'd done. He didn't expect me to become perfect by doing all the right things (ie. "following the law"). He just wanted me to trust in his Spirit. All I had to do was cling to him. That's it.
And I realized that he was telling me that I was valuable to him, even if I was never able to get out of my bed for the rest of my life. My worth was not tied to my actions. It was tied to him, and how he sees me.
And with that realization, the weight of guilt started to lift.
He showed me that being a "good Christian," to him, is just plain allowing him in and letting him work on my heart. Everything else flows from that.
Now that's grace. And that's why I'm not ashamed to tell people I have depression.
I've got more to say about this. Go to www.yourencouragement.com/toughtimes.html to see it.
I can't tell you how many times I've mentioned to someone that I'm taking meds for seasonal affective disorder or clinical depression (which is what we thought I had at first), only to have them say to me, "Hey, I'm on meds for that too! But I've never told anyone outside my family."
Why are we so afraid to share this with each other?
Okay, I know the answer to that. There are lots of people out there who just don't get it. And we're tired of having them look at us weird or tell us to snap out of it.
But here's what I have to say about it: Stand up and be counted! Don't be ashamed of mental illness. It's a physical condition that is just, in many ways, beyond our control. I'm not embarrassed about my depression. I find it inconvenient, annoying, infuriating, and frustrating on many levels, but Thank God! He has shown me that it doesn't make me any less valuable as a human being.
And it doesn't make me a bad Christian.
It took me a while to realize this. I was bogged down with guilt over my inability to be a "good Christian." But you know what happened? As I was lying in my bed, totally incapable of getting up and going to supper because it seemed too hard, scary, and stressful (and I did this for weeks, only eating when my roommate forced me to), I cried out to God. I just gave up trying to do anything, and I felt horribly guilty about it. My cry wasn't even coherent, really, more like a vague "Help! I can't go on!" And it seemed like he kept directing me to read the book of Galatians in the bible.
You know what the theme of Galatians is? (It took me a while, in my state of mind, to figure this out, but it finally got through.) God didn't save me because of anything I'd done. He didn't expect me to become perfect by doing all the right things (ie. "following the law"). He just wanted me to trust in his Spirit. All I had to do was cling to him. That's it.
And I realized that he was telling me that I was valuable to him, even if I was never able to get out of my bed for the rest of my life. My worth was not tied to my actions. It was tied to him, and how he sees me.
And with that realization, the weight of guilt started to lift.
He showed me that being a "good Christian," to him, is just plain allowing him in and letting him work on my heart. Everything else flows from that.
Now that's grace. And that's why I'm not ashamed to tell people I have depression.
I've got more to say about this. Go to www.yourencouragement.com/toughtimes.html to see it.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Depression is so different for everyone
I was at my ladies' group this morning, and as we were discussing our study book (Olive Shoots Around Your Table by John Visser), we got to talking about depression, of all things. Well, it's been on my mind, so maybe I brought it up!
It was great, 'cause they helped solidify a couple things in my mind. I tend to forget that people who haven't had depression themselves don't really quite understand what's going on. They can try, and they can be compassionate, but it's not the same as having experienced it.
Plus, we're all so individual in our depressive episodes. Some of us face them head on, and some of us want to run and hide and self-medicate and forget that we're even depressed... which makes it worse, I find. So how to I address the topic of encouragement for christians with depression if we're all so different?
The only answer I have is: Start with what you know.
So I'll write about the things I've learned, I guess. And I'll do some research for the things I don't know, or the things I've forgotten. (For instance, I don't remember off-hand all the symptoms of clinical depression. I'll have to look that up.)
There's just so much. I guess I'll just have to start at the beginning! And I'll keep on adding, and adding, and adding...
It was great, 'cause they helped solidify a couple things in my mind. I tend to forget that people who haven't had depression themselves don't really quite understand what's going on. They can try, and they can be compassionate, but it's not the same as having experienced it.
Plus, we're all so individual in our depressive episodes. Some of us face them head on, and some of us want to run and hide and self-medicate and forget that we're even depressed... which makes it worse, I find. So how to I address the topic of encouragement for christians with depression if we're all so different?
The only answer I have is: Start with what you know.
So I'll write about the things I've learned, I guess. And I'll do some research for the things I don't know, or the things I've forgotten. (For instance, I don't remember off-hand all the symptoms of clinical depression. I'll have to look that up.)
There's just so much. I guess I'll just have to start at the beginning! And I'll keep on adding, and adding, and adding...
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Christians with depression
Today I started working on my latest page, "Tough Times." And my first topic? Christians with depression. Not exactly a light topic, is it?
But the truth is, this is so close to my heart. I have depression, too. Actually, in my case, it's seasonal affective disorder... as in, I get depressed from October to about May, but I have a great summer!
Over my nine years as a christian, I've learned so much about depression. I've been through sudden healing of it (when I first let God into my life -- what a spring that was!), I've been through guilt as I wondered why my depression had returned (was I a bad christian to be feeling that way?), and I've come to understand a lot about depression and what on earth to do when I start feeling that way again. It's been such a process, and I still have to deal with it every winter. I guess I just want to encourage everyone out there that it's something that can be overcome. Mostly. :)
I still get all the physical symptoms (confusion, irritability, tiredness... actually, it's a lot like PMS!), but I'm learning how to manage them. I take medication, too. That helps a LOT. But the good news is, I've addressed most of the underlying issues that were making my depression even worse.
So now, as October finishes up, and I'm back on my meds again, being a christian with depression is something I'm thinking about. So here I am, blogging away, and praying that God will speak through me to encourage everyone who comes to my site.
I think this verse says it all for me:
"All praise to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. He is the source of every mercy and the God who comforts us. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When others are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us."
2 Corinthians 1:3-4
But the truth is, this is so close to my heart. I have depression, too. Actually, in my case, it's seasonal affective disorder... as in, I get depressed from October to about May, but I have a great summer!
Over my nine years as a christian, I've learned so much about depression. I've been through sudden healing of it (when I first let God into my life -- what a spring that was!), I've been through guilt as I wondered why my depression had returned (was I a bad christian to be feeling that way?), and I've come to understand a lot about depression and what on earth to do when I start feeling that way again. It's been such a process, and I still have to deal with it every winter. I guess I just want to encourage everyone out there that it's something that can be overcome. Mostly. :)
I still get all the physical symptoms (confusion, irritability, tiredness... actually, it's a lot like PMS!), but I'm learning how to manage them. I take medication, too. That helps a LOT. But the good news is, I've addressed most of the underlying issues that were making my depression even worse.
So now, as October finishes up, and I'm back on my meds again, being a christian with depression is something I'm thinking about. So here I am, blogging away, and praying that God will speak through me to encourage everyone who comes to my site.
I think this verse says it all for me:
"All praise to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. He is the source of every mercy and the God who comforts us. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When others are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us."
2 Corinthians 1:3-4
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