Wednesday, November 14, 2012

When Silence is Better than Sleep

I love to sleep.  It's been shown that Introverts need more sleep than Extroverts and if I'm any indication, it's true.  The worst thing about mornings is that they come every single day.  If it wasn't a requirement for life, I'd do away with them all together.  I can sleep for hours, take a nap, and sleep some more.

Parenting makes me tired.  Probably more than anything else.  The talking, the lack of personal space, the constant activity...the talking.  Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't trade my Little Nut for anything but, seriously, it's exhausting.  It's a curse for us Introverted parents.  I mean, every parent is chronically tired, but the Introverted mother finds no peace

You'd think with this exhaustion I would want to sleep whenever I could but I find myself wanting to stay up late, even avoiding an opportunity for a little Sunday afternoon nap in favor of...silence. 

Blessed, blessed silence.

Sleep is great but before you know it you're awake again and the noise starts all over again, so I stay awake and revel in silence...or noise only I choose to make.  Usually I'm so over-extroverted that nothing truly productive gets done during these times but even totally exhausted time without a hyperactive three-year-old feels wonderful.  No grabby hands and high-pitched singing and endless questions...just me, by myself, on the whole couch. 

Sleep?  Sleep can wait.  Silence is calling.

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Pasta Weekend and Other Gold-Star Mom Moments

This weekend Andrew was working at a Men's Retreat, and so, it was me and Little Nut mostly on our own.  Thursday night our family went to Olive Garden because they now have a "Buy one entree and take one home" deal and, hey, we're missionaries...and I hate to cook.

I calculated that if the three of us shared two entrees on Thursday night, Nut Boy and I could share one take-home entree on Friday and one on Saturday, thereby eliminating the need to make dinner for two days!  Mmmmm....we love pasta so much we'll eat it for three days!  And that's just what we did.  I mean, of course, I microwaved some canned green beans as a side one night and even cooked some carrots the next!  And, Olive Garden provides a nice microwaveable bowl and lid to reheat the pasta, which also double nicely as plates (Nut Boy with the bowl, and I with the lid).  And that is the tale of our delicious, although not very nutritious, Pasta Weekend.

Also, having been Andrew's birthday (he's old, I mean, 35) this weekend we made the most ginormous ice cream cookie sandwiches you have ever seen.  Mainly they turned out that way because I rarely bake and overestimated the size needed for a slightly larger than normal sized cookie!  And, like any good Mom who knows the risk of salmonella and yet still feels the joys of eating cookie dough are worth the risk for her children, I allowed this...


And, all of this pasta eating and salmonella risking, was done in between copious amounts of movie watching.  That thing about TVs corroding your brain...totally a myth.  I've been fighting a cold all week and, considering it's about the only time Nut Boy will sit still and stop talking (I mean, seriously, I think he has a secret stash of coffee beans somewhere), I've had him spend more time than usual in front of the Boob Tube.  So much apparently that the other day he actually ASKED to do "School Time."  I choose to see that as if I have instilled in him a great love of learning, that in the face of watching yet another movie he chose tracing letters and doing flashcards!  He passed the test.  Me on the other hand?

And then there is Halloween.  I grew up not celebrating Halloween and never really gave it much thought until we had a kid.  I've decided that there is much freedom in Christ, and I have no moral qualms with dressing up and eating candy...we don't celebrate evil...Jesus is Lord every day in our home.  But, I have found that in this freedom I now find myself in a quandary.  The truth is, I don't really feel like expending the energy to make a costume and do one more thing...ministry and chores and other activities for the child make our days full.  So, my kid is not dressing up today, not because I believe it's wrong, but because I choose to do other things with my time.  Is that bad to say out loud?

So, let's review...

Abuse of take-out food and relying on canned veggies to provide nutrition.  Check.

Only feeling a tiny twinge of guilt as my child licks potentially life-threatening cookie dough.  Check.

Using TV to babysit my son when I'm sick or trying to get a moment of life-saving relative silence.  Check.

Depriving my kid of the childhood joys of Halloween dress-up and candy for my own sanity.  Check.

Yeah, I'm that Mom. Whose handing out the gold stars??

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Work it Out

I am task-oriented and I love a good project.  Work to me, at least work that involves something I find interesting, doesn't really feel like work.  There have been seasons of ministry where I have worked from 7 in the morning until midnight on a regular basis because there were project deadlines and programs to run, and while it was a season in which I experienced tremendous burnout, it wasn't so much the long hours as the projects themselves and the baggage that went with them that wore me down. 

Needless to say, "work" can become my life very quickly.  I am energized by production.  Unfortunately, during the insane and crazy season of ministry (and the accompanying burnout) my marriage became second priority...the INTJs default, "Tasks over people!" 

At the bottom of burnout hell I realized a lot of things had to change.  I took a step back and tried to set some healthier rhythms in place, not just for me, but also for my husband.  Now we have a son, a nutty three-year-old bouncing off the walls who craves attention.  It wreaks havoc on my productivity. 

I'm currently back in a ministry setting where projects are numerous and I am getting a serious itch to be insanely productive.  I can hardly stop thinking about the To-Do list sitting on my desk...not in a bad way, but in a sick and twisted, I-can't-wait-another-second-to-go-finish-my-project way. My preferred work style is "work straight through until it's done."  But, three-year-olds don't feed themselves, and, oh my, where did our kitchen counter go under all those dishes?

So it's a constant give and take, take and give rather...take 5 projects and give 3 back.  It's hard for me to keep in mind that this is a season.  But, my zany little boy won't be running around the house saying "Mama, look at me!" forever.  I'm comfortable with being a work-aholic, but life isn't just about how productive we are.  Mostly it's about how faithful we are to steward the gifts God has given us for His glory...and the relationships He's given us are a part of that too.

I won't give up on projects, and I'm always going to push the edge of being in full-time ministry AND being a wife and mother, but for now, I need to grow comfortable with a new level of productivity, one that includes playing pointless board games from time to time and making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

The Off Switch

As a Dominant Introverted Intuitive, life is experienced from the inside out, and what's on the inside is big, Big, BIG (no chubby jokes, please).  It can be exciting, the world of ideas, but sometimes when those thoughts get filled with emotion, and heavy with confusion, the weight of them feels too much to bear.  I've sunk to some pretty dark places under their weight.  It's then that I am notorious about finding the "Off Switch"...any coping mechanism that will let me check out mentally, which includes mindless activities such as eating (again, quell the jokes), watching TV, and generally disengaging from relationships.  And, occasionally, I don't really know what to think and so I just let tasks take over.

Of course, the latter is much more outwardly productive, but more tasks make less room for relationships, which, ultimately, (as ideal as the thought may sound at times) is counterproductive for Kingdom-work.

I've been challenged recently to think about my actions as a pathway for the Holy Spirit to change my mind.  Instead of trying to make my thoughts and feelings change (which is darn near impossible), change my actions and let the Spirit draw my heart toward a rendezvous with those right actions.  More or less, reverse engineering.  For someone who lives on the inside so much this seems foreign, but I know there is wisdom in it. 

However, it doesn't mean flipping the "Off Switch" and completely disconnecting from what's going on inside.  I can't use actions as a means of denial, but as an acknowledgement of the inner chaos and a form of discipline for my wayward heart and mind.  Without that connection the actions are just the spinning of a top--going nowhere fast but back to where I've been.

Some days I need to take a moment to sort through my emotions, but most days I just need to get up and do what my heart doesn't want to...the wisdom is in knowing which day it is, and the knowing only comes from the illumination of the Holy Spirit.
 
"Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art
Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light."

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

How to Hug an INTJ

I don't hate hugs, it's just that, like other social interactions, I feel awkward while attempting them. As a whole, we INTJs aren't known for our touchy-feely behavior. We have larger than normal personal bubbles, and physical interactions (just as with everything) tend to be purposeful and business-like.

Hugging is a social expectation that I could do without 95% of the time. Not only is there the issue of the invasion of personal space, but I'm not always the best at picking up social cues. To hug or not to hug? Is now the appropriate moment? Are they a side-hugger? Whose arm goes on top (tall women have to worry about these extra things)? What is the appropriate length of this hug? Who lets go first? It's just stressful.

With a recent move there has been lots of hugging, many of which were meaningful, some of which were just awkward. But, there was one hug that made me laugh even while I cried; it was with another INTJ. There were very few words spoken. The length of the hug (although maybe not long by other's standards) said volumes. We both got choked up and did what any good INTJ would do in an emotional situation, say a gruff goodbye and turn and walk our separate ways. We had said all we needed to say.

Most hugs don't speak INTJ language. And, while we look self-assured, in social situations, we're taking our cues from the rest of you! So, non-INTJs, here's how to hug an INTJ:
  1. Don't. I'm only joking (mostly). But there is something to be said about a good handshake.
  2. Make exaggerated hugging gestures as you approach so we have time to prepare ourselves.
  3. Get straight to business. A firm and brief technique is preferred.
  4. And, finally, let go. If your form of hug isn't brief, give us verbal play-by-play, "I love hugs. I'm not letting go yet!" That way we can worry less about when to let go and more about being emotionally assaulted.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

The Faith of an INTJ

Someone recently told me that to be an INTJ and a "Christ-follower" was non-sensical and could not be done.  Ahh, a good debate.  A tornado of thoughts touched down in my brain and I am now trying to settle them down and command sense out of them. 

My first thought was to list all the reasons this statement was untrue.  But, of late, I've been told I can be too opinionated, so I tried a different approach: first acknowledging the truth inherant in the statement. 

By nature, we INTJs are cerebral.  Everything we see must be tested for accuracy and then improved upon for greatness.  Our greatest pleasure is in seeing things in the world others can't see and navigating a clear path through the madness.  This is mostly done in our heads.  We are self-reliant creatures.  We believe in what we can imagine, and what we imagine usually includes a complex plan for achievement.  We are explorers, pursuing knowledge, mapping out an undiscovered universe in our minds, in which we can sometimes see ourselves as the center.

We're habitual skeptics; doubt comes naturally, because there is no thing that can't be made better and, let's face it, most things in life can use a LOT of improvement.  On a bad day, this can make us pompous nay-sayers, but on a good day, we are the voice that challenges good ideas to be great.  "Challenge everything to be great" could be our motto.

We are an autonomous group of people...it even feels a little weird to say we are a "group of people."  We like our independence.  We tend not to lend much credence to titles and make people prove they deserve them.  Esteem and respect are doled out cautiously, as the highest honors we give.

In light of these things, it's true, we INTJs might not be voted "Most likely to be a 'Christ-follower.'"  I can see what this person means when they imply that it defies logic.  An independent, autonomous person following someone seems unlikely.  A doubter and skeptic surely rejects faith.  Thankfully for me (and the rest of the INTJs out there), this isn't the end of the story.  God is a master at accomplishing impossible things!

In my journey of faith I wish I could say that I naturally had the faith of a child; instead I've spent years looking for my doubts and questions to be answered, as if God owed me this.  But I have realized, human thinking only explains part of the story, the real story is much, much bigger.  And, there's nothing an INTJ loves more than unfathomably big ideas.  The universe inside my mind is so incredibly small in comparison to God's universe...more room to explore!

I am not a Christ-follower because I blindly follow, I follow Christ literally and figuratively, in that, there is nothing I am asked to do that He has not already endured.  He has my highest esteem and respect.  Also, our journey, as Christians, is about Christ working His perfection out in us until the day it is completed before God's throne.  As INTJs, we seek challenge and improvement and a life called to follow Christ in self-death certainly finds these things.  The catch for us independent creatures is this is God's work, not ours.  If we have faith only in our own competence, as we are apt to do, we will eventually find failure...and then what? 

C.S. Lewis is my favorite writer for many reasons, but especially because he proves it is absolutely possible to be brilliant and a Christian.  He says something I love: "I believe in Christianity as I believe the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else."  I know the Son has risen, because I see His light evidenced in my life and by His light I am given new eyes to see meaning in the rest of the world.

So, in the end, my fellow skeptic, you make a good point.  It does seem improbable for an INTJ to be a Christ-follower.  But, then I look at my life and the lives of my fellow Christian INTJs and I think, what better proof that there is a God then to see a bunch of skeptical, self-reliant, intellectual, sometimes pompous, truth-seekers pursuing God and His Kingdom?  And, God, in His mercy, has even made it possible that who we are, and what we seek, can find fulfillment in Him.  Amazing.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

My Idea, My Friend

Adam McHugh writes in his book Introverts in the Church, "Introverts (especially those who score high in the 'thinking' category of the Myers-Briggs) treat our ideas like friends, devoting the same energy and time to them.  Likewise, we consider books and authors as mentors, or as midwives to our most profound ideas."

I've felt this way my whole life.

My ideas and I have a relationship of sorts.  You might find that weird (or maybe you're secretly saying, me too!).  I remember, even as a child, climbing to the top of a corkscrew willow tree in my backyard and spending hours with my thoughts.  Silence is never silent when my brain is present.  There's a give and take that happens in the wide open places of my mind--a conversation of sorts.  It's almost as if my ideas are an entity of their own, surprising even me as they take shape. 

I can never relate when people talk about being bored by too much alone time, like hating to drive long distances all alone.  I love any time that I get to spend with my ideas; the longer the time the better the conversation.

Even if some think so, I'm not talking about reclusive and neurotic behavior.  I love a good conversation with another person too.  But, as an Introvert, I am energized and refreshed from the inside out.  It's how I can drive alone for six hours and feel energized when I arrive at my destination, or sit in a class for hours on end and not need to get up for a break.  I feel most centered, most alive, when my ideas and I get to spend time together...good quality time. 

It's the balance that is hard to find in life.  Later in the same paragraph, McHugh writes "While extroverts may gauge their day by the quality of interactions and experiences they had, introverts often gauge their day by the thoughts and reflections they had."  There are so many relationships vying for time and attention, the invisible ones in my head can be the easiest to ignore.  But then I find myself feeling shallow and unimaginative, just going through the repetition of every day.  

I can't abandon life and ministry for a monastery (however tempting it seems), but I do need to make space in life for my ideas to ground me in what it all means.  Without it I am an empty shell, lacking the best part of me to share with the world.

I don't have a favorite tree to climb anymore and I have a three-year-old running around constantly, but in the moments where I retreat to a coffee shop to write, and watch people, you'll see the light slowly come back to my face.  It's where my ideas and I have a reunion of sorts and we are all better for having spent time with one another.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

INTJs Are Like Onions

Ever seen Shrek?  As an INTJ woman I identify with Shrek and Donkey's conversation in which Shrek claims, "Ogres are like onions!"   Listen in, but, in your mind, replace "ogres" with INTJs!

Donkey totally misunderstands!  "They stink?"  "Oh, they make you cry?" "Oh, ya leave 'em out in the sun and they  get all brown and start sprouting little white hairs?"  All of which, perhaps not the hair-sprouting part, has surely been said about INTJs!  "No!" Shrek yells, "they have layers!"
We're known for being difficult to read and are certainly not the most adept of all types with people, but what most people don't see is that if you peel us back in layers we have all sorts of hidden treasures! 

As is the case with most Introverts, the best parts of us are hidden below the surface.   Our hold-the-world-at-arms-length approach to life makes it hard for others to see what's in our hearts and minds...but there is a lot in there!

Here is an non-exhaustive list of things it would be nice for non-INTJs to know (although, we're OK if you don't want to take note of it...we still know we're awesome):

INTJs are passionate people.  On the outside we are a pillar of silence and strength.  On the inside our minds are like tornadoes and our resolve is unstoppable.  When we care about something or someone, it is deep and meaningful.  We have strong feelings, we just hold them very close and only let them out in the presence of someone we trust.

INTJs are pretty funny.  Perhaps our sense of humor is a little dry, or maybe too morbid for your taste, but every INTJ I know appreciates a good laugh (sometimes we're laughing on the inside).  More often than not our best material is saved for ourselves, our very closest friends, or our writing...but it's there, and it's FUNNY!

INTJs search constantly for improvement!  You might feel this in our sometimes critical nature, but what we're really getting at is making everything better, stronger, and more effective!  This includes ourselves.  We might not readily admit our faults but deep down we know we have them and look for ways to improve ourselves too.

INTJs are not above feeling lonely.  Even when we pretend that we don't need anyone, we have a desire to connect deeply with people.  But, when small talk is like a foreign language it makes building relationships a challenge!  This is especially true for INTJ women--being less than 1% of the population means that we don't find too many kindred spirits out there, and when we do, they are usually male, which complicates things.

INTJs are like onions!  Yes, sometimes we stink, and make people cry, but what we're really trying to say is that what you see is not all you'll get with an INTJ.  Peel back the layers and you'll find a complex and, we do say so ourselves, pretty spectacular individual!

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Full Disclosure

This one's for the ladies.

Yesterday, I had to go to the doctor's for a physical and I decided I might as well double up the joy with a long over due "Well Woman" appointment. 

"Well Woman" gives the impression of a quiet morning drinking coffee and reading a book in the garden.  Ladies, we all know, this is no where near the truth.  The nurse points to an unimaginably small pile of folded paper and says, please put these on and the doctor will be in shortly.

Shortly.  How long is shortly?  I quickly strip down and snatch the paper "clothes" as quickly as possible, imagining that "shortly" means she will open the door as soon as I have no clothes on...probably wide enough that the nurse and patient (probably male) walking by my room will also get a great look at my awesome glory.

Hurriedly, I throw my clothes into a pile and try to arrange the paper for maximum coverage.  I pick up my paper "shirt," which is really like a one-size-fits-all vest that doesn't fit all sizes.  Pull the flaps closed in front and flesh emerges from the overly large arm holes.  Side coverage means, not so much front coverage.  That's OK.  I have a paper blanket!  I carefully sit on the narrow strip of paper on the table (the width of which, like most other aspects of a doctor's visit, encourages me to lose weight) and drape myself in paper.  Phew.  I beat "shortly," thereby avoiding the embarrassment of full disclosure.

But now, "shortly" stretches into 15 minutes.  I am sitting in a relatively warm room wearing nothing but cheap paper.  It's about this time that I regret the mad dash to get undressed, as I am now sweating in places no one wants to know about.  My paper clothes are sticking to me.  I am feeling less "Well" by the second.

FINALLY!  The doctor enters.  But, first she wants to cover all the questions on my physical form.  Does she not know about the paper and the sweat?  When she listens to my lungs, pressing the stethoscope to my back, all I can think about is the fact that my paper vest only comes down to my waist and a blanket draped in front leaves the rear exposed.  I'm feeling less like a "Woman" and more like an embarrassed girl.  Oh well, I tell myself to get over it...I'm sure the doctor has seen much worse.

Then comes the best part...details to be excluded...but it does mean we are nearing the end of this unwell experience and I can finally put my real clothes on (ones that cover ALL necessary parts and don't make me sweat profusely). 

The good news: since I'm almost 30 I can, by doctor's recommendation, endure this humiliation every three years!  Which, I interpreted to mean, "I'll see you in three to five years!"  Apparently, there are benefits to being old...even if having wrinkles AND acne at the SAME time aren't among them.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Some Days

Some days I feel on edge all day...everyone is annoying.  I'm angry with Little Man because, well, he's three.  And then I feel guilty for feeling angry, but not quite guilty enough to stop being angry.  I'm agitated and on the verge of going nuts and not a single person says a single intelligent thing all day (or so it seems to me).

Yesterday was one of those days.

I have come to recognize that while I am genetically predisposed to annoyance, an all day anger affair--such as yesterday--usually means I've done too much extroverting. 

But what do you do when you're extroverted-out and you have a full schedule and a three-year-old clinging to your leg saying, "Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama..."?  Generally, I spend the day wanting to punch people.  But, this is good for no one.

I have spent the last year trying to figure out healthier rhythms for my life.  Some weeks I am successful at inserting time to recharge, others, not so much. 

Summer time in our ministry is hectic and filled with people...usually the perfect storm for an Introvert to go crazy!!  Yesterday launched my first summer schedule with a crazy little nut boy around the house and it's clear that I will have to be intentional with my time to not lose it!   It's not easy to share the love of Christ with people when their very existence is causing me agitation.

It's not easy to push back the crowding tasks and people and give my soul the space it needs to breathe, but it is necessary.  Here's to doing a better job at intentional recharging...and not wanting to punch people all day long :)!

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

One Point for Mama

I'm not a warm and fuzzy mother.  I don't worry about every little bump and bruise or if he will be unhealthy if he misses a meal.  I don't endorse extensive crying, even upon injury.  I encourage Little Nut Nut's wild adventures, which often include pushing his physical limits and testing his abilities.  How will he know what he can do if he can't try? 

Don't get me wrong, there are lots of hugs and words of affirmation.  I know our son feels secure and loved.  We also try to limit his dare devilish ways to jumping from no higher than 2 stairs and doing flips on softer surfaces.

I try to take the long view of parenting.  Most things even out in the end if you love your child, draw boundaries for them and keep them fed and watered...also, it goes a long way for your kids if you are not insane, just sayin.  Even though I don't worry about eating habits and whether or not he'll be dumb because I didn't do flash cards with him EVERY day this week, I do worry about behavior.  Not that you'd always know that by looking at my kid.  He is a sweet-spirited child but stubborn as heck.  As an extroverted boy, he has no qualms with loud and embarrassing demonstrations of his disappointment and/or rage. 

I think it's mainly my personality, but I LOVE to win.  It's so easy to get sucked into a battle mentality with my stubborn little three year old, and once that happens...heck if I'm gonna lose.  The problem is, in the world of constructive discipline that mentality doesn't get you very far.  Instead I end up crazy stressed out, angry, and still dealing with an obstinate little boy.  One day when I was at my wits end, my toddler drooling entirely-masticated "offending" food from his stubborn mouth, someone suggested I read Love and Logic for Early Childhood.  I bought that sucker on my Kindle within five minutes. 

It. Is. Awesome.  We're still working on how exactly to implement it all and of course there are still those days, but it is designed to take a lot of the frustration and anger out of parenting.  Can I hear an Amen! for that!!  (There are some aspects of the book that I don't totally agree with because it's not written from a Christian perspective, and for us, I feel it is best pared with the principles presented in One Becoming Toddlerwise.)  But, the basic premise of the Love and Logic technique is that as parents we are preparing our kids for the real world and should parent with techniques that teach them immediate cause and effect and guide them through their own problem solving. It requires accountability for actions, fixing things they've broken, paying with money, chores, or toys for time or items lost by their behaviour.

We started a Chore Box with age-appropriate chores to draw from when needed.  Our downstairs neighbors have heard a LOT of vacuuming lately!  He's been cleaning baseboards and dusting and sweeping.  I haven't had clean baseboards in, well, I don't know, but they're clean now!!  Of course, they are three-year-old-ability clean, but in a world where cleaning is not high on my list of priorities I'll take it.

So, while I realize it's not healthy to be in competition with my child over discipline issues...my house sure is clean :)...one point for Mama!

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Confessions of a Control-aholic

It has been said, once or twice, that I like to control things.  OK, maybe a few more times than once or twice.  I could say it's a result of being an INTJ, because we have a knack for seeing things that need to be fixed and coming up with really ingenious ways to fix them!  We have high standards and work hard to reach them, which makes us tough task-masters to ourselves and everyone else.  It's true, but I can't blame it all on that.  A lot of it is just good, old-fashioned, universal pride.

This has played out in a myriad of ways as I have navigated relationships in my life...which would take too long to discuss here (sorry, Husband).  I have, however, been thinking a great deal about how this plays out in my relationship with the Lord.  Some recent discussions with a young lady, who reminds me a great deal of myself at her age (and, yes, saying that does make me old), has me thinking through the ups and downs of the last ten years (again with the oldness) of making my faith my own.

In a recent conversation with this young woman I looked her in the eyes and said, "I wish I had better news for you, but if you really want to learn to trust the Lord, it's going to be a rough few years for you."  My husband calls my habit of making these sorts of statements negative; I prefer realistic.  For those of us who like to rely on our own competence, who want to know what our next step is before we take it, who don't do well with ambiguity and uncertainty, who just want the ANSWER dang it (usually that's not the word I'd use)...learning to trust the Lord is H.A.R.D.!

"The good news though," I told her, "is, if you put in the work, it gets easier with time."  That is to say, sort of in the way that behavioral therapists work with Obsessive-Compulsive patients to help them learn to sit with their anxiety and desensitize themselves to it, us control-aholics have to sit with our anxiety and learn with time that God can be trusted more than ourselves. 

I wish I could be the sort of person who could believe without seeing, but I've never had that kind of faith.  It has taken many years of tears, anger, depression, anxiety, and confusion to begin to realize that God always comes through.  Not necessarily in the way I would have hoped for, but He masterfully, and patiently, weaves His plans for my life into a testimony to His name.  I don't have to have the dang answer.  I don't have to know what tomorrow will bring.  I don't have to be competent in everything.  God has all those things and more. 

But, asking God for more faith is kind of like asking for more patience...you shouldn't do it unless you're prepared for life to kick the crap (pride) out of you.  I've experienced some serious crap-kickings in the last few years.  I've wrestled with God in ways that have left me, like Jacob, limping but blessed.  I carry scars that speak of my stubbornness and a hopeful heart that speaks of a faithful God. 

I still have days where I freak out, where ambiguity scares me, and where I want God to tell me what I want to hear, but they are fewer than they used to be.  I've seen the power and precision of God bring me my son, carry me through ministry burn-out, and change people's lives miraculously.  I've found that my comfort zone gets bigger and bigger each time God nudges me out of it.  I pray (hesitantly and hopefully) that He continues to do so, because my journey of trust is far from over. 

If it means there are days where all you can do is crumple in the corner and cry, but your mind repeats "I will trust God.  I will trust God. I will trust God." that's a good place to start.  I've been there.  The Lord, in His goodness, will bring you through.  There is no easy path to trust for a control-aholic but a life of faith in the Lord is far better than a life of faith in myself...I'll screw it up every time.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

House of Feelings

My house is full of guys.  The husband.  The son.  The (used to be male) dog.  It's a noisy house erupting in continual sound effects like BONK, BOOM, and OOOO-YEAH, BABAY!  But what makes my house full of guys just a little bit different is that it's also a house full of feelings.  While I have a preference for Thinking (according to the Myers Briggs Theory), my husband, my son, and I could swear my dog (if dogs could be categorized), most definitely prefer Feeling.  This makes for an interesting household.

In a world where the majority of men are Thinkers and the majority of women are Feelers...we're a house of opposites, and, I can't help but wonder, also filled with a little touch of irony from a God who loves to help us face the things that challenge us.

Feelings challenge me.  More accurately, other people's feelings (how to appropriately respond to and respect them) challenge me.  Feeling words tend to trigger almost involuntary eye rolls and gag reflexes in me.  And wouldn't God fix me up with some of the most feeling guys (and dog) around! 

I'm having to learn to say, "I'm sorry you feel that way" and mean it, or at least fake it really, really well.  Although my husband would claim that I'm not learning fast enough...and he's probably right.  Oh, and there are lots and lots of cuddles.  The dog will even crawl up in your lap and curl his paws around your leg if you'll let him.  It's easy to cuddle little ones but outside of that?  Not so much.

Being married to a Feeler has made me more open to feelings and a little more adept at dealing with them, but having a son who is most assuredly a Feeler too makes it imperative that I learn to navigate them well.  I don't have the same preference, but I don't want my son to feel like he has to be different than God made him to be, or come out damaged and needy because he had an emotionally stifling mother.  I've seen guys who never were able to feel at home in their Feeler-skin, who seek affirmation in women...lots of them.  I want him to be confident in his feelings.  I don't naturally know how to encourage him in that because I'm only recently learning to be confident in my own.  But, God planned for me to be in a house of feelings.  My Feelers have much to teach me, and I have things to teach them too.

Our family laughs alot...physical humor is just SO hilarious.  You'll hear crashing and yelling and general male raucousness but you'll also hear a lot of feelings.  I'm sad.  Are you Happy?  You OK?  I'm angry.  That hurt my feelings.  And, my favorite, I love you.  It's not always comfortable, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Just Around the River Bend

As a child of the 90s, I have vivid memories of seeing Disney's Pocohantas in the theater.  Who doesn't remember singing "Just Around the River Bend" (whether you were forced to remember the refrain because you were the parent of a 90s child or if you were the 90s child thinking you might actually be able to become Pocahontas becuase you could sing it SO well)?
"What I love most about rivers is:/You can't step in the same river twice/The water's always changing, always flowing/But people, I guess, can't live like that/We all must pay a price/To be safe, we lose our/chance of ever knowing/What's around the riverbend/Waiting just around the riverbend."
I'm pretty sure I could hear you singing that.  Don't deny it.  It's a classic free-spirit anthem!  I won't get on a soapbox here, but in Myers Briggs terms she is very "P" (Percieving) and since she is the spiritual heroine of the film it rather leads you to think that her outlook on life is the best, but it's hard to swallow as a "J" (Judging).  It's true that you can't step in the same river twice (if you're refering to the specific river content), but as a "J" that's a little disconcerting.  People like me give that song its mournful edge.
 
You won't see me leaning forward in my canoe, wind whipping my hair.  I will likely have my hair sensibly pulled back, I might have a map, and I will be proceeding with due caution around the next bend, with a mental escape plan ready if anything goes wrong.  I'm the kid that, while learning to drive, pressed on the gas and yelped, "Too fast!" as we hit 10 mph (unfortunately I grew a lead foot after that).  It's not that I'm not having fun, I just like to be prepared. 

Both approaches have their positives and negatives.  I mean, when your free-spirited self crashes on a rock around the bend, I'll have aleady imagined a plan that will save your life.  And, sometimes, my kind of people need to enjoy the ride a little bit more because we're going around that river bend whether we want to or not.

Life the last few years has felt like smashing into unseen rocks around the corner...it's made me tired of change.  But, it has also taught me that all the planning in the world doesn't stop change from coming, and sometimes the blow is lessened when I go with the flow.  Isn't it true that a loose body sustains less damage than a rigid one in an accident?  I thought I heard that one time.  If not, it should be.  It's absolutely true emotionally.

I'm entering a new season in ministry.  I'm taking on a role as Church Plant Coordinator and I'm thrilled and scared to death.  I love a challenge, but mostly I love it when I know what the challenge is and feel it is highly likely that I can be victorious.  I'm nervous to jump into this particular canoe, because it's heading for river bends that I have never explored before.  I have no back up plan.  I have a very rudimentary map.  Part of my nature (the "N" Intuitive side) is thrilled by all of the possibilities, but this is in constant tension with the part of me that sits white-knuckled, screaming (in my head and, on occaision, aloud) WHAT THE HECK AM I DOING???!!!!!! 

I don't know what's around the next river bend and that thrills and terrifies me.  I'm mentally and emotionally working to loosen my expectations of perfection and fear of failure.  I'm trying to put into practice the years of lessons that God has been teaching me about trusting in Him.  I pray that God uses me, and our church plant team, to bring glory to His name in North St. Louis, and it will bring Him so much more glory if He is in complete controll!  I want to get by on my own competence, but that won't cut it this time.  It has to be the Lord.

Just around the river bend are possibilities, challenges, victories, failures and it will be God's grace alone that makes it possible to navigate any of those things.  God's grace brings victory.  God's grace brings beauty out of failures. 

Knowing God's grace is just around the river bend makes it easier to smile as the current pulls me toward the unknown (don't worry I won't break into song, no one wants to hear that!).

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

The Origin of Things

Too many Christians don't understand the nature of their faith.  We think we have "arrived" because of things we do or don't do.  Our prayers are that of the Pharisee in Luke 18:11 "God, I thank you I am not like other people...."

Have we forgotten that we are all spiritual prostitutes, bought back with the blood of Christ?  The origin of our hearts is a place of death and bondage and sin.

So, it rather surprises me when I see a fellow ex-soul-prostitute cast stones at the origin of things.  I've been ruminating on this as a result of celebrating Easter.  Rather, how some Christians refuse to celebrate the "pagan" holiday of Easter.  As a Christian who follows the rhythms of the the Church Year, the season of Easter is the Pièce de résistance of the entire year.  Without Easter we are still dead in our sins.  But, we have been made alive with Christ!  Easter carries the full weight of our faith.

This is why some Christians have decided to stop the "pagan" madness and only refer to Easter as Resurrection Sunday.  That's OK.  It's true.  But, usually this includes a baning of Easter eggs and the Easter bunny and, well, the word Easter (I mean, even if your ailing grandmother wants to give your children a few Easter eggs to bring moments of joy to her waning life...get behind me, Satan!).  I'm all for people practicing their faith based off of conviction from the Holy Spirit, however, these kinds of banings can be a slippery slope into a pit of hypocrisy and legalism.

If you read about the history of Easter you will, indeed, read about a pagan heritage.  This will be true of Christmas as well.  (It's true of you too...I'm just sayin').  Everyone should be free to make decisions that help them honor Christ with their lives.  If they feel they will be led to think less of Christ on Easter (Ehem, Resurrection Sunday) because they held an Easter egg in their hand then...that's between them and the Lord.  Those people may want to note that the Christmas tree also has pagan origins, oh, and eating ham on Easter, and also, sunrise services, um, also, the wedding ring.  You'd be surprised how many things we Christians have usurped from others for the celebration and glory of God and His people!

Usually, decisions to ban "unclean things" are held (and brandished) with little grace and no chance for redemption.  And, in my experience, they are accompanied by judgements that condemn other people, places, and things with "dirty" origins.  They result in alienating people by way of pride, which is antithetical to the humble inclusion of Christ's resurrection.

Truthfully, it's easier to crusade for a purer Easter than it is to stare into the face of our own hypocrisy and sin. It's easier to show our "devotion" to Christ by abstaining from Easter eggs or secular music or movies than it is to examine how we treat our children or talk to our spouses or judge others in pride.

We serve a God who specializes in redeeming things.  God took a murdering fugitive and used him to rescue His people.  God accepted a prostitute into the very lineage of Jesus for her faithfulness.  God took the idea of the city (which was created by the first murderer in the Bible as a direct rebellion against God's command to wander, and, which has a long history of rebellion) and has plans to ultimately redeem it as the eternal residence of His people.  The entire Bible declares stories such as these.

Our God doesn't care much about the origin of things.  If He did we'd all be screwed.  What He cares about is how His mercy and grace can bring strength from weakness, holiness from paganism, life from death.  And we are to follow our Savior, rushing grace and mercy to those in need, not through alienating legalism, but by waking up each morning and thanking God that the face you see in the mirror is no longer the face of a treacherous, pagan, soul-prostitute, but the redeemed child of God. 

Let's instead be about redemption work!  Let us as Christians (as Christians have already historically done) redeem Easter for Christ...Easter eggs, ham and sunrise services in celebration of the Lord and the family He has given us!  We can include people in our family memories around Christmas trees, knowing our hearts are fully the Lord's.  We can embrace stories like the Lord of the Rings (which for some holds taboo use of mysticism) for the aspects of the story that speak Biblical truth...devotion, sacrifice, loyal friendship, the triumph of good over evil. We can look into the eyes of someone the world has written off--thieves and murderers and drug dealers--and see future men and women of God!

When we really understand God's grace in our lives, everything we do begins to soften in light of it.  Legalism lessens as the love of Christ flows out.  True conviction (and the real Resurrection spirit) starts always with humility and ends in redemption!

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Rant of a Book Worm

I'm appalled.  I just read a blog that quoted these stats:
  • 33% of high school graduates never read another book for the rest of their lives.
  • 42% of college graduates never read another book after college.
  • 80% of U.S. families did not buy or read a book last year.
  • 70% of U.S. adults have not been in a bookstore in the last five years.
  • 57% of new books are not read to completion.
The author followed these statistics by saying we probably aren't surprised by this, but I am!  I'm a reader.  I come from a family of readers.  I have friends that are readers.  I had no idea that everyone else is not!  Can you imagine a life where you never read a book again after high school?  Or, not buying or reading a book for and with your family in a whole year?  I can't.  It's totally outside my world view.  It makes me sad to think about all those people are missing out on.

Words have the power to unleash new things in our minds, and if in our minds, then in the world.  Think about it...God could have chosen any way to communicate with His people, but He chose the written word of the Bible.  Jesus is described as The Word in the book of John.  Spoken word is powerful...the world was created by the words formed by God's mouth.  But for words to be eternal, they get printed on a page. 

Printed letters, combined into words, grouped into sentences, have perpetual impact.  Please tell me I'm not the only nerd who dwells on these things!  The Bible is often referred to as the Living Word because the power of the Holy Spirit makes it purposeful in all lives for all time.  Other literature does not have the force of the Holy Spirit behind it, but, in its own way, is alive too.  Good literature tells a specific story that we may or may not relate to, but it also reveals pieces of humanity, like fear or friendship or jealousy or courage or love, and we can all relate to those.  These messages can mean different things to different people and answer questions that cross generations.

There are so many of life's issues for which reading is the answer...
Do you want to know about the world?  Read.
Do you want to learn about yourself?  Read.
Do you want to be a better writer?  Read.
Do you want to understand others?  Read.
Do you want to have something intelligent to say at parties?  Read.
Do you want a slower pace of life?  Read.
Do you want to tap into the eternity of humanity...what was, what is, what will be?  Read.
Do you want to know how a mere Hobbit can change the world?  Read.

For heaven's sake people, buy a book!  Borrow a book if you're broke.  Own a library card.  Encourage your kids to read.  Read books you love.  Read books that make you uncomfortable.  You will find the boundaries of your mind and your life stretched in this endeavor.  The world needs a more literate you.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

A Conversation With God

I'm a doubter, an over-analyzer, a worrier.  I'll rethink an issue until I'm swimming in negative thoughts and possibilities, or in the very least I will question everything.  It drives my "glass half full" husband crazy.  I've worked over the years to calm my mind, to speak truth to myself instead of negativiy.  I love that the Scriptures are so real, and I can find any emotion or doubt reflected in people of the Bible.  I can cling to the promises that God has made to His people for all of time and watch their faith in God be proved right.

During one such season of worry and doubt I wrote this to remind myself that God is who He says He is.  I can know nothing for certain in this world except the Lord is who He says He is, and is always with me and will always lead me if I truly seek Him:

“Why dost Thou stand afar, O Lord?  Why dost Thou hide Thyself in times of trouble?” (Psalm 10:1)

“Here I am.” (Isaiah 52:6c)

“How long, O Lord?  Wilt Thou forget me forever?  How long wilt Thou hide Thy face from me?” (Psalm 13:1)

“Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands, your walls are continually before Me.” (Isaiah 49:16)

“Hear. O Lord, when I cry with my voice and be gracious to me and answer me.” (Psalm 27:7)

“Seek My face.”  (Psalm 27:8)

Teach me Thy way, O Lord, and lead me in a level path.” (Psalm 27:11)

“I will instruct you and teach you in the way which you should go; I will counsel you with My eye upon you.” (Psalm 32:8)

“Lord, if You are willing, You can make me clean.” (Matthew 8:2c)

“I am willing.” (Matthew 8:3b)

“Behold…your iniquity is taken away and your sin is forgiven.” (Isaiah 6:7b,c)  Now “Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?” (Isaiah 6:8b)

“Alas, Lord God! Behold, I do not know how to speak, because I am a youth.” (Jeremiah 1:6)

“Do not say, ‘I am a youth,’ because everywhere I send you, you shall go, and all that I command you, you shall speak.” (Jeremiah 1:7)

But “Who am I, that I should go?”  (Exodus 3:10)

“Certainly I will be with you.” (Exodus 3:12a)

“Behold, I am insignificant, what can I reply to Thee?” (Job 40:4a)

But “I am about to do a thing in Israel at which both ears of every one who hears it will tingle.” (I Samuel 3:11)

“Teacher, I will follow You wherever You go.” (Matthew 8:19b)

“Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:19-20)

“Search me, O God, and know my heart, try me and know my anxious thoughts […] and lead me in the everlasting way.” (Psalm 139:23-24)

“I know the plans that I have for you […] to give you a future and a hope.” (Jeremiah 29:11) “My lovingkindness will not be removed from you, and My covenant of peace will not be shaken.” (Isaiah 54:10b,c)  “For I am the Lord your God, who stirs up the sea and its waves roar […] I have put My words in your mouth, and have covered you with My hand.” (Isaiah 51:15-16)



For such is God,

Our God forever and ever,

He will guide us until death.

(Psalm 48:14)

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

How to Kill an Intovert

One day last week I actually had the thought, "Hmm, hamsters have the life.  What I wouldn't give for my own personal bubble."  Granted, being trapped inside an ever-spinning ball really wasn't what I was going for...maybe more like a Cone of Silence.  Yes.  Some days I would kill for a Cone of Silence.

Last week was our Spring Break Program at World Impact.  We had 30 kids running around and I had 9 volunteers and several staff to direct and a crazy extroverted three-year-old doing donuts around the gym.  It was a great week but the Introvert in me flew to my knees and cried Hallelujah! when the last child exited the front door on Friday night. 

Between planning, organizing, hosting the volunteers, and running the program, and getting next to no sleep, it was a long two weeks of extroverting, which ended with our family and our staff getting the stomach flu...so I'm still trying to recover.  Saturday, after our kid's program was over, we hosted an eye glass clinic for people in the community.  I could tell I had reached my people limit.  Some very nice lady was asking about my life story and I could give her little more than one word answers.  I knew it was insufficient and I sort of half wished that I could offer more, but I didn't have the energy to elaborate.

In moments like this I become an angry Introvert, sick and tired of people and yet, ever so slightly guilty that I can't just keep on giving.  I start feeling like I'm not any fun to be around (probably because I'm not) and I get jealous of people who can extrovert all day long and still have energy to give at the end of the day. 

I've spent my entire life with this cycle.  I like to call it The Introverted Funk.  I'm in it right now.  I'm short and impatient.  I feel like crawling in my closet for a moments peace...but hey, I'll take a hamster ball if that's all that's available.  I am filled with dread at the busyness to come.  I'm so tired I could just fall over asleep at any moment.

It's time to pause and as my wise three-year-old reminded me today, "Mama, take a DEEEEEP breath.  It's gonna be OOOOOK."

We've got so much to do that there's not much time for an Introvert to gain equilibrium, but I have to make time to survive.  It does take more work for us Introverts to stay healthy.  There's no sense in wishing I could be different when I get to the Angry Introvert stage, I just need to take the necessary steps to be able to engage with the world again.

I'm gonna take a deep breath and find somewhere to hide for a little while.  If you can't find me anywhere, don't look in the closets it may be my only people-free sanctuary.  Oh and if anyone has a Cone of Silence lying around, feel free to send it my way.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Forgiveness

I am not quick to forgive.  I have, what my husband calls a "justice mentality," and what I have often called my "Holy Spirit complex."  I want right to be done, wrong to be vanquished and the truth to be proclaimed...and preferably in my favor. 

In my mind there is a right and a wrong, a winner and a loser.  And what has really driven me crazy in life is that I used to believe that whoever brings the most truth to the table "wins."  A few more years into life, however, I know that whoever brings the most crazy "wins."  That just doesn't seem right.  Add it to the list of injustices in the world.

I've spent a lot of time trying to force people to see the truth...sometimes actual truth and sometimes my own version, I suppose.  When they don't see it, it infuriates me.  It is even worse when I am personally hurt and not just pissed off at a more general injustice.

So, it's ironic that today I'm leading a devotion for some of our World Impact volunteers about forgiveness.  It covers the passage in Mark 2 where a paralytic is brought to Jesus by some crazy friends, who actually dig a hole in the roof of the building where Jesus is teaching and lower the paralyzed man down to Jesus for healing.  I'd have liked to be in that room and seen the first clod of dirt hit the floor.  People start looking at the ceiling in confusion as little by little more sunlight and dirt starts pouring into their eyes.  And then, all of a sudden, a man appears with four eager faces hovering over his still body.  But, then Jesus does something very odd (and to stand out as odd when there's suddenly a man hanging from the ceiling says something).  As the man's air-borne pallet hits the floor, He tells him his sins are forgiven. 

What a let down that must have been for the man, hoping and praying that his limbs would start to move!  I mean, imagine it!  You haven't walked in years, if ever, and you're waiting for some tingling sensation to start in your toes when, instead, you get your sins forgiven.  I'd have been disappointed.  You would have too, I think.

It's humbling, for an unforgiving person, to realize that in God's Kingdom forgiveness is of first importance.  Jesus does heal the man physically, but only after the important healing has already taken place.  His dancing legs were not what gave him his freedom that day.  Jesus' forgiveness did that.  So often I go to God and ask Him to be freed of an illness, or burden, or a hurtful or irritating person or situation, when what my heart is actually in need of is forgiveness...both to accept it and to be able to offer it.  Forgiveness brings peace and action to a world hung up in injustice.

Still, my justice oriented mind has a hard time wrapping itself around forgiveness.  I like there to be consequences when wrong is done.  Preferably swift and painful.  But then...there were consequences.  Someone did pay the price.  I may wish it was the blockhead who wounded and pissed me off, but instead it was a perfect, sinless Savior.  And He paid for my sins too.  "Big," "small," it doesn' matter.  Jesus hung on that cross with the force of every single sin.

Crap. That kind of takes the wind out of my prideful sails.  It certainly doesn't make it any easier to ask for and offer forgiveness, but it gives me the motivation to work on making forgiveness come first in my life...I have a long way to go.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Are You a Woman?

A recent trip to the library went something like this...

Random dude walking around the library: "You're so tall!"

Me: "Yeah, I guess."

Random dude: "Are you a woman?"

Me: "Uh.  Last time I checked."

Random dude: "You're so tall!"

And then he walked away.  Such a strange encounter.  I'm tall for the average woman, but coming in at just shy of 5' 10", I hardly classify as Man-Tall.  And, I'm under no delusions that I will be winning Miss Universe anytime soon (well, anytime, ever) but I've never really thought I had a mannish face or figure.  He didn't look obviously disturbed, but I'm guessing he was a few tacos short of a fiesta platter.

But then, I started thinking.  I guess I can't blame the guy too much, because I've had to ask myself the same question a time or two.  Not, in the I'm-in-need-of-a-sex-change sort of way, of course.  More like, it's confusing to be a woman with a predominantly male personality (INTJ). I don't quite know who to identify with.  I mean, I look at the world and process things through a lens that I usually share with other men, not women.  But, I'm not a man (even if it's not obvious to certain patrons of the library).  I like being a woman.  I'm a wife and a mother.  I enjoy traditionally feminine hobbies, like sewing and collaging, and one of my favorite movies is Pride and Prejudice (the 4 hours A&E version, of course). 

One time, in a college small group at church, we had to share our favorite CD, book, and movie as a means to get to know one another (oh the joy).  I can't ever say I have a favorite, so I shared some favorites at the time, Beyonce's latest, Stephen King novels, and John Wayne's The  Quiet Man.  One guy said, "What does that say about her?"  And my pastor said, "It says she's a very complicated woman."  A joke, but it stuck with me all these years, because, well, it was what I had always suspected.

There's nothing wrong with being complicated, it makes for an interesting life, but sometimes, when all you want is a straight answer it can be so confusing.  I find this the most perplexing when I contemplate how to be who God made me to be.  He made me a woman.  But, he made me, in many ways, not like other women.  A cruel joke, perhaps? 

I went to a women's retreat this weekend.  I dreaded the chit chat and the display of emotion, but I thought a lot about what it means to be a woman...what it means for me to be a woman.  Dr. Don Davis lead a session entitled "Fierce Tenderness," highlighting strengths of women as seen in the book of Ruth.  I loved it, and I hated it.  He didn't use flowery words to paint a picture of a Kingdom woman and I thought, finally, an identity as a woman I can get behind!  But then I try to apply it to my every day, being a missionary, being a wife, being a mother, and things get all jumbled up in my head. 

Perhaps it bothers me so much because, by nature, I have a need to make sense of things...and I just haven't been able to make sense of it all.  Yet, one thought has lingered since the retreat.  Maybe I have always been afraid to embrace the "tenderness" of being a woman.  I can totally get behind the "fierce, " but tenderness is not something I openly display.  It requires vulnerability, and usually it requires an emphasis on relationship (and let's face it, I'm prone to pick task over relationship any day).  Maybe I'm scared of what life-changes would be asked of me if I were to embrace the two approaches together.  Maybe it would be easier if I did.  Maybe it would be harder.  Maybe it would make me look at my roles as a wife and mother and missionary differently, maybe....

In all the complexity I can hold on to two truths.  God made me a woman and I was created to have a Kingdom impact.  And, I suppose I have to let God work out the details in me one step at a time.  I'm hoping it's sooner than later.  And just in case there is any lingering doubt, let it be said again for the record...I am a woman.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

A Recent Love Affair

I hate bandwagons.  I'm so anti "following the crowd" that sometimes, unknowingly I still let the crowd dictate my behavior...I'll almost always do the opposite.  When The Passion of the Christ came out, every Christian said I HAD to see it.  I needed to SEE Christ's sacrifice to really understand it. I mean, isn't it the least we could do to watch His agony on the cross, when he actually suffered it for us?  How could you say no?

I still haven't seen the movie.  Partly because I refuse to believe that my faith in Christ will reach a pinnacle because of the film, and partly because I am intensely disturbed by blood and gore (just ask my Mom about my childhood trauma of watching Watership Down...yes it's a cartoon, but bunnies clawing each other is SO disturbing). 

That being said, I just finished the Hunger Games trilogy.  Shhh.  Don't tell anyone, it might ruin my non-conformist persona.  I was sure I would never read them because everyone was, but then someone in my respected circle recommended them, and, what can I say, I'm a sucker for a good story plot.  And just like that I was hooked.  I finished them in about 4 days, and while my husband insisted that I was "addicted" I maintained that they are easy, fast-paced books that make for an intense and quick read. 

Between you and me, I was a little addicted.  But then, that's nothing new when it comes to books.

There is almost nothing I love more than getting lost in a book.  I find myself entering a new world and making new friends.  Story expands beyond my natural horizons.  As Introverts, we understand that the expanse of our minds holds limitless potential.  I feel free inside my head, like anything is possible.  I can, for example, take a journey into a futuristic, post-American culture, and experience the tragedies of war, the confusion and hope of love and be inside a character's head as she steps into an arena where she knows she will have a fight to the death.  That's not exactly my daily experience!

When I come to the end of a good story, I know it has had an impact when I feel parting sorrows.  Maybe you can relate.  At first I feel a sort of grief.  Like a rejected lover, my thoughts keep flitting back to the story, wishing there was still something to be said.  Then, a day or two or a week later, I start to process the impact of my most recent love affair and I realize what an influence the seductive world of words has on me. 

I used to think that a book could only mean one thing.  I thought there was a right or wrong interpretation and only the author could really tell us what that was.  But, my years as an English major and a reader have made me realize that the true power of literature is that it can say almost anything.  A good story says what the author intended it to say, but woven into the language, the characters, the plot, there are truths about the world that allow for it to speak almost infinitely.  The story, then, doesn't just live in type but in my mind and yours, in the way we uniquely identify with characters and in the symbols that imbue meaning into our lives.

That is why I love books.  Not only because I can lose myself in imagination, but also because I can make sense of myself and the world by looking through different lenses, always seeing new things. 

My affair with The Hunger Games was brief and intense, and I was sad to see it go.  As a story it has a lot to say about war and oppression and human loss.  Hardly literary classics, but, the story, embedded in a world of pink hair and futuristic weapons, still spoke to me about our limitations as people and how sometimes character development is realizing how little you have to offer without the strengths of others filling in the gaps.  The story has lingered in my mind, bitter sweetly.

The movie comes out soon.  I'm sure it won't be as good as the book but I can't help but want to spend just a little more time with my love.  But, I'm going to pretend like I'm seeing it for very separate reasons from the rest of you, that way I can still feel good about my status as a non-conformist.  If you see me there on opening weekend I might avert my eyes and pretend that you don't know me...for the sake of my pride just go along with it.

In the mean time, I'm searching for a new love. 

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Help, I've Been Cerebrally Assualted!

Have you ever left an encounter with someone and felt that your brain has taken a beating?  I'm not talking about a healthy sparing match where each party leaves with satisfied bruising, this is more like being mentally mugged.  It happens far too often; a chance encounter while shopping, a meeting, a conversation at a social event.  One minute you feel all is right in the world, and the next you are cerebrally assaulted, someone's stupidity acting as a black hole and sucking all intelligent properties out of the conversation, gobbling up any intellectual contributions you offer and smothering them in nothingness.

It happens to me all the time.  I am not naturally a patient person; my selfishness fights the Holy Spirit from infusing me with this quality on a regular basis.  I find myself rolling my eyes, figuratively and literally, at all hours of the day.  If only people weren't so stupid, life would be better, more tolerable.

My Dad often has told me, "Stupid people need love too." To which I respond, "Maybe.  But not mine."

My natural tendency is to dismiss anything that isn't logical, intellectual, or constructive, and, honestly, the lack of those qualities equates a lack of value in my mind.  It isn't right, but that's my first reaction.  I spend a lot of energy trying to avoid these types of encounters, but with the world the way it is, there is no escape.  Frustrating.  But, I have come to the conclusion that there are only two postures I can take in these experiences...pride or humility. 

Naturally, I defer to pride.  I am prone to walk away feeling superior.  This is, however, not the Christ-like approach.  My usual response to a cerebral assault is to strike back, to put stupid in its rightful place, or to walk away aloof and dismissive. But, if I am to be more like Christ I have to learn to turn the other metaphorical brain-cheek.  Thanks, may I hear another of your ideas please?  And then try to listen without condescension.

It isn't just someone else's job to love stupid people.  It's mine too.  And, by loving them they become a little less stupid and a little more human...with flaws and failures and varying gifts just like me.  This will, no doubt, be a life-long journey for me.  Thankfully, our value to the Kingdom and the world is not based on our lack of intelligence or lack of affinity with people, but in a God, who possess those qualities infinitely greater than we ever could, who decided to love us anyway and breathe value into us through His Son.

Intelligence is important.  Very important.  You could argue that without it we all would die strange and humiliating deaths.  But, humility, patience, love...these keep people like me out of prison (from homicidal impulses) and bring people into the Kingdom of God, and that's what life's all about.  Well, maybe the prison thing is secondary, but you get my point.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Spock, I Love You

My Dad's a Sci-Fi nerd and according to my husband I am too.  Much to my Mom's dismay, my sisters and I grew up watching Star Trek, Godzilla movies, Stargate SG-1 and other science fiction classics.  Now, much to my husband's consternation, I vow to do my utmost to pass on the love of Sci-Fi to our little guy. 

While I enjoy much of the Sci-Fi genre (not including the campy made-for-the-Sci-Fi-Channel movies, sorry, Dad) I think Star Trek will always be one of my favorites, particularly the original series.  It holds so much nostalgia for me.  It was the first TV show I remember watching and identifying with the characters in a way that shaped me.  My first TV love...Spock.  OK, well, maybe love is a stretch (I can't say I really dig the haircut, or the pointy ears), but I was enamered with his character.  I wanted to model his logic, commended his stoic face, and envied the command he had over his emotions.  I wanted to be Spock.

Spock, half human, half vulcan, was an objective commentator on the Humon Condition.  He brought the irefutable truth of logic to the table.  As an INTJ (even before I knew what that was) logic has always been alluring.  I idealized it, perhaps as the answer to every problem. I felt a conflict inside me, believing logic and emotions to always be enemies, I tried to be Spock and purge myself of emotions altogether.  But, unlike Spock, I am all human and didn't have access to the Vulcan ways.  What a shame.  I really always wanted to master the Vulcan Death Grip.

I suppose I also felt, and still feel, an identification to Spock's distance from others.  I think we INTJs natrually sit just a little further out than most people, observing everything with a sweeping, objective eye.  This makes us great analyzers (and often strong-spoken commentators on the "Human Condition"), but sometimes it feels a little alienating.

There are times I still secretly wish that I could erradicate the need for emotions.  They are messy and unpredictable and feel combersome to a lover of logic, but what I always failed to see is that Spock chose a path that didn't acknowledge his whole self.  He was, in fact, as human as he was Vulcan at his core.  Like Spock, I think my effort to command my emotions has sometimes created a characature of who I am, a stone-faced, iron maiden of sorts.  And, to be honest, I have often (and still sometimes do) wear that as a badge of honor.

But then, inevitably, that characature begins to feel constricting and I find myself wishing I was more capable handling emotions, more open and more visibly whole.  Logic will always be my first love, but feelings are God-given too and the interplay between them is what creates a living and growing wholeness in a person.  I sometimes visibly cringe when using the "F" word, but without feelings I am one-dimensional and lack growth.  And, if feelings aren't something we can really get behind as INTJs, the idea of growth and continual improvement is.  And so, I won't settle for being just Spock, you've gotta have a little Captain Kirk in you too...that's probably why they made such a great team.

In the beginning I thought my love for Spock would push me towards triumphant and emotionless logic, but in the end he has taught me that logic is no replacement for wholeness.  In fact, it is a little ironic that it isn't very logical to only be half of who you are.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Introverted Mother. Extroverted Son.

I use, on average, fewer words than the average person in one day...certainly fewer than many of my fellow females.  When I hit a particularly chatty stretch I realize how unusual it is when my throat feels dry and overworked.  I like space and time to think.  I enjoy getting lost in the focus of a hobby, a good book, a work project.  I have a larger than normal personal bubble.  And then Little Man bulleted into our lives.

He's three and as extroverted as they come.  His average word usage is in the millions, well, probably not, but it feels that way.  He ricochets around the house and his lips move even faster than his feet.  How is it that every sentence begins with "Mama!"  There is incessant talking.  To me.  To his toys.  To his imaginary friends.  To no one in particular.  And, while toddlers aren't known for their personal boundaries, "Say it, don't spray it" is a regular slogan in our house as his little nose and fingers and arms invade any shred of personal space left!  It may embrass me to talk loudly or draw attention to myself in public, but, much to my humiliation, my little guy has no problem pointing and shouting, "Mama, look at that man's big eyebrows!"  And, to him, any open space is a stage, where signing and dancing can entertain all (thankfully he's three and it's still considered cute, I'm hoping I don't still have an air-guitar playing thirteen year old!).

Seven months into it I know that motherhood is not easy, but I think it can be particularly difficult for us introverts.  Being a Mom requires constant extroverting.  There is always a need, a cry, a grabbing hand, a question, a body clinging to your leg, or a blood-curdling scream to attend to.  Some days, I have searched for space in every possible opportunity, even taking to the kitchen to cook a meal!  Perhaps not a shocking statement unless you know how much I detest cooking (I'm pretty good with quesadillas though).

I love my funny, extroverted boy.  I love being able to hear him processing and learning all day.  I love his enthusiasm and wild, animated gestures.  But, an extroverted child requires even more verbal and physical interaction in a day, which means that noise you hear at 1 and 8 PM every day is me singing the hallelujah chorus as his little head hits the pillow! 

My little extrovert challenges me every day to learn and grow. One lesson my verbose son is modeling for his often taciturn mother is what verbal affirmation looks like. Encouragement flows from him with ease. "I love you, Mama," "Thank you for cooking lunch," "You are such a good cleaner. It makes me so happy. I'm so proud of you." I tell him God made him a very good encourager and that his encouragements are special gifts he can give people, and then I take notes on how to do better with that in my own life. 

I love that one of my roles is being a mom.  Sometimes Andrew and I sit around wondering what we ever did to entertain ourselves before our little Nut was around.  But, it is just one of my roles and if I am to balance all of them well, I have to be healthy!  I have to have time to retreat to my quiet place so that I can engage with him later (and not go stark raving mad!). Otherwise, he only gets a half-present, eyes-glazed-over me.  However, I'm realizing healthy rhythms don't happen naturally.  I have to be intentional and that takes discipline...something I'm not always good at implementing in my life. 

Being an introverted mother to an extroverted son requires me to intentionally create a give and take in our relationship, granted more give on my part, where we both learn and grow and become well-rounded people.  For example, we have worked up to thirty minutes of quiet time into his daily routine (this is in addition to other times that he plays on his own), where he gets to read books or do puzzles or anything not involving his guitar and screamer-rock in his room, and I get to sit on the couch and breathe or read or stare at the wall.  Sometimes, as an introvert, just sitting in a room where furniture is my only company feels like I'm breathing in freedom.  At first he didn't like it, but he's learning that a little space and quiet never hurt anyone...in fact it can be life-saving (his to be precise, ha).  Then, having had a few minutes of space I can invest more of me into time spent with him.

I'm also blessed to have a husband who sees the ins and outs of child raising as a team effort. He gladly takes over when I need a break, often gets up with the kid and lets me sleep a few extra minutes, and takes his role as a dad very seriously.  He whole-heartedly supports me pursuing my passions, and we have the blessing of flexibility as missionaries to take parenting shifts.  He encourages me to take time to invest in our ministry and I am so grateful for that.  Being able to use my gifts and talents in and outside the home helps me remember that I'm an important part of God's Kingdom work!

Through trial and error I'm working on getting into a healthy rhythm.  Ideally it will include regular devotional times, exercise, daily (intentional) activities with Little Man, scheduled work hours where I can be out of the house and contributing to ministry, a weekly outting by myself to drink coffee, think, and write, among other things.  So far it's a work in progress.

We're women, not just moms, and as Christ-followers we have to steward our lives to serve the Lord.  We can't be everthing to everyone, but we can be who God created us to be!  Don't just take my word for it.  Much of the reading material that has fueled my thoughts in this area are the following...