Chewymom

We have friends who are living overseas. Here is a story they shared with us of a conversation between the dad and his six-year-old son:

The morning was quiet, and the old city streets were almost deserted. This morning, as we wound our way through the maze everything was still except for this conversation I listened to between father and son…

Son, commenting on seeing a poor unkempt woman sitting on the street: “Daddy, why is he sitting there?”

Dad: “Well, honey, first of all that is a she, not a he, and she doesn’t have a home to live in. She is homeless.”

Son: “How does she get food?”

Dad: “People give her food.”

Son: “Do they ever give her money?”

Dad: “Yes, sometimes people give her money too so she can buy food to eat. (Pause…) … Do you think we should give her something?”

Son, looking up into Dad’s face with grave sincerity after a long quiet moment: “How much does a house cost?”

I am interrupting your regularly scheduled Down syndrome posts to blog about something else. See, I told you Down syndrome doesn’t dominate my life! I wrote this email to a few of my precious friends, and I decided to make it into a blog post. Here it is.

I got some “me” time on my back porch this morning with a blanket, a latte, and my Ipod. I was feeling quite spoiled! I was listening to a song that has been one of my favorites for a long time, and I was pondering why this song moves me like it does. the song is “Sing to Jesus” by Fernando Ortega. Here are the lyrics:

Come and see, look on this mystery
The Lord of the Universe, nailed to a tree
Christ our God, spilling His Holy blood
Bowing in anguish, His sacred head

Sing to Jesus, Lord of our shame
Lord of our sinful hearts.
He is our great Redeemer.
Sing to Jesus, Honor His name.
Sing of His faithfulness, pouring His life out unto death

Come you weary and He will give you rest
Come you who mourn, lay on His breast
Christ who died, risen in Paradise
Giver of mercy, Giver of Life

Sing to Jesus His is the throne
Now and forever,
He is the King of Heaven.
Sing to Jesus, we are His own.
Now and forever sing for the love our God has shown.

Sing to Jesus, Lord of our shame
Lord of our sinful hearts.
He is our great Redeemer.
Sing to Jesus, Honor His name.

Sing to Jesus His is the throne
Now and forever,
He is the King of Heaven.
Sing to Jesus, we are His own.
Now and forever sing for the love our God has shown.

Y’all, when I think of Jesus as Lord, I tend to think back to my own “salvation experience.” I professed faith in high school because some sweet baptist friends told me terrifying tales of hell. A few years later, through a Keith Green memorial concert, I realized that I was only in it for whatI could get, but I wasn’t willing to follow Jesus and let him be Lord.

This song puts a whole new twist on “Lord.” Is Jesus “Lord of my shame?” “Lord of my sinful heart?” I think of him as Lord of my goodness, of my obedience, of my mind. But of my shame and sinfulness? It’s a big whammy of a reminder to me that he loves me IN my sin and shame, not in spite of it, not peering around it to find the good. But IN it. Wow. Join me today in singing to Jesus–Lord of our shame and our sinful hearts. He IS our great redeemer!!!

Because my family is in the PCA, we talk a lot about covenant theology. The very basic idea is that God tends to work within families, and that He has made certain promises to Christian parents. One of mine and my DH’s prayers has always been that our children will grow up to love Jesus with their whole hearts. We alluded to that when we took our parental vows at their infant baptisms, promising to “raise them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.”

In my mind, when I made that vow I envisioned this scenario: I read sweet Bible stories to my children during their early years. We talk about spiritual things around the table, and when a difficult issue comes up, we lead them to God’s word for answers. They go to church and Sunday school, they live moral lives, and when they grow up, they marry a nice Christian spouse who was also raised in an intact Christian home. Then they go on to produce good little covenant grandchildren who continue in the same path. Along the way, there may be struggles. My child may struggle to control his temper, just as a hypothetical example, because nothing this drastic would ever happen in my home, and kick a hole in the wall. Or another child may tease a younger sibling, again all hypothetical, mercilessly. But other than that, life is pretty rosy.

In the real world, my ideal doesn’t usually play out. Well, it might work if all I’m after is a superficial Christianity that has the depth of a pancake. But I’m after more. I want to see my children come to a point where Jesus is their all. Where their sole desire is to bring him glory and to love him. I want them to know God as a perfect Father who holds his frail children in his arms and loves them. I don’t want mediocrity and a lukewarm faith–I want their faith to be real and deep and meaningful.

I know a few people who are deep and thoughtful Christians who have become that way just by living a comfortable, Christian life. But those people are very few. The people whose faith has depth and purpose and passion tend to be those who have struggled in a real and personal way. Those who have needed much have been given much in the faith department. Those who have suffered have grown to know from personal experience and deep need, that Jesus can be their all in all.

In my own life, I faced significant marriage struggles a few years back. As a new bride, I would never in a million years have predicted that we would struggle as we did, and I would certainly never have wished for or prayed for that. In the middle of it, things were awful, and I saw no good whatsoever that could possibly result. And even now, I look back and remember with pain and grief and sorrow what we struggled with. And yet, without that, I would not be who I am today. My struggles then were the hardest thing I ever had to live through, and yet they were probably the best thing for me. Those struggles helped me to learn about myself. They showed me truths about God’s grace in ways I never could have learned if I had simply studied in a book or listened to a motivational Christian speaker.

Even as I type, there’s a young girl I know who is making some poor choices. Her godly, distraught parents are working with her, trying to reason with her and convince her to take a better path. As parents, they are doing exactly what they need to do–loving her, giving her boundaries, and praying for her protection. As I watch the situation I am torn in my heart. I see that what she really needs is to love Christ above all else–and her parents see this as well. But I also see that that love may well come out of bad decisions and living through difficult consequences. It’s not something I or anyone wishes on her or on any other person, and yet ironically it may be the very thing we have all prayed for. Bad circumstances often drive us to the end of ourselves when we are left with nothing but to throw up our hands and say, “Help me, Lord!” It is not the path I would choose for this girl–I would rather she let me tell her my story of struggle so she knows what to avoid, how to make wise decisions, and she is saved from heartache, and she loves Jesus with her whole heart, too. But life doesn’t usually happen that way.

I still pray for this girl, that she will mature and listen to godly counsel, and that she will realize her errors and turn around and begin to let Christ be her sufficiency and her prize, rather than seeking out affirmation and love in unhealthy places. And yet I also sit back and nod my head knowingly, realizing that the maturity and love I long to see in her may come through difficult circumstances. Circumstances that might be brought on by bad choices and immature thinking. I pray she is protected from this, but if she is not, I pray that they will drive her to Jesus and she will come out a stronger person in the end. And I pray that if and when I see my own children struggle in their lives, that I can remember this and be content knowing that this testing of their faith will produce the very perseverance (and love and passion) that I long to see built up in them.

It’s a weird thing when your own kid starts suggesting sermons for you to listen to.

DS16 and DS15 went away to youth camp a couple of weeks ago. DS15 has been full of all kinds of stories from camp. Like the guys who paraded around their room naked, the kid who got the key speaker to sign his toga (yes, this kid wore a toga for two straight days!), the 3-day-old sour cream that a girl dumped onto one of the guys, the multiple mishaps at the restaurant where they ate on Thursday night, and the leader who snores. Loud. I have thoroughly enjoyed listening to the stories and imagining the fun my guys were having!

But beyond the goofy antics of high school kids, there was some real learning going on. My son has not ceased to talk about the sermons. This preacher gave a sermon every day of the conference. And to hear my son tell it, this guy is the best preacher he as ever heard. So good, in fact, that he plans to download his sermons onto his I-Pod. Folks, that’s sayin’ something! A regular ole preacher, so good that teenagers are anxiously awaiting his podcasts. The man’s name is Brian Habig, and he is pastor of Downtown Presbyterian in Greenville, SC.

Yep, it’s a strange thing indeed to have your own kid excitedly telling you that you need to listen to a certain preacher. It’s what you, if you are a Christian, always hope will happen someday–that your child will separate himself from you, claim the Christian faith as his own, and grow independent of the things you have been teaching him. And then it happens, and you do a double take and wonder who this person is, how he got so mature, and why you have been given the privilege of being his mom!

We have recently made the decision to hire a housekeeper while we are trying to sell house #1 and keep it spotless for showings, along with remodeling the kitchen of house #2. It’s just more than I can handle. Housekeeping generally is more than I can handle, but for now I have an excuse. And a housekeeper. Thank you, Lord!

A friend of mine, “A” owns a janitorial service, and I was commenting to her that my housekeeper (who works with a second person) is a little pricier than I had expected. I was curious if I was being ripped off. My friend A said that there are definitely people who charge less, but then their staff tends to be poorly paid and their work reflects that. I have to admit, the person I hired is doing a really great job! But am I being responsible with my money? I just talked to another friend who has a housekeeper who charges half of what I am paying. The job may be easier and smaller. (This lady has grown kids, what am I thinking! Of course the job is easier!) Still, am I justified paying what I do, or am I being unwise with my money?

Most people who clean houses do it for a living. They may be able to squeeze in two jobs per day, but probably no more than that. Let’s suppose I paid $50 for these two ladies to clean my house. That means for 1/2 day’s work, they each get $25. They pay taxes on their income, too, but I won’t try to figure that. If they have a second job, they each earn $50 per day, which is $250 per week, which is $1000 per month. Folks, that’s nothing. Nobody can live on that, and lots of these women who work as housekeepers are supporting their entire single-parent families.

If I shell out twice that, or $100 for a cleaning, then that translates into a $2000/month income. Still barely getting by, but I have lived on that amount before. It can be done. If I spend that much on a housekeeper, I feel indulgent and irresponsible–like I’m being a poor steward of my money. Shouldn’t I be trying to save more money? Or to give it to the church or to missions or something?

I’m not sure that being a good steward always looks like we think it does. For me, being a good steward means I do not shop at Walmart, because I cannot support their business practices. I may spend more money by going to drug stores and grocery stores for my paper products, and by shopping online for clothing, or driving one town over to go to Target. (But praises to glory, we are getting a Target in three short months!!) But does spending more for the same item necessarily equal being a poor steward? Or does it mean I am being thoughtful and careful with my resources?

Okay, I’ll grant you that I have more shoes and DD4 has more clothes than are reasonable. One could argue that in terms of shoes and girl clothes I have some growing room when it comes to stewardship. But still. Some of my shoes are so cute! And if you could see DD4, when she lets me pick out her clothes! Ahhhh.

I have always assumed that if I was spending money I was not being a good steward, but now I’m not so sure. If I have money, does that mean it was given to me for me? (And yes, I believe that ultimately all money is given to me as a gift from God, regardless of how it ends up in my bank account.) Maybe God gave that money to me because another person needs it, and he can use me to get it to them. And maybe I can do that by hiring them at a decent wage. Or maybe just by giving a monetary gift, or by shopping at their booth at the farmer’s market. And back to the housekeeper, I think I do more in terms of stewardship if I allow another human to exist more comfortably by paying her a higher wage than if I pad my own bank account and hire a housekeeping company that charges and pays half of what mine does. So my housekeeper stays for now. At least until we get this house sold. And then I’ll have to reevaluate the stewardship of that money each month.

In 1988, DH and I got married. We loaded up the wood-paneled station wagon and headed West. We were moving all the way across the country so he could attend seminary. We knew nobody in our new town, but we soon discovered another newly married couple in our apartment complex! *Brad was attending seminary as well, and and he and Laura became our buddies–Laura and I would make trips out to Price Club together, and often we would have dinner together as couples. Brad had a twin brother, Ed who was also a seminary student at the time. Ed was not married, so more often than not, he was at Brad and Laura’s apartment when we were over.

Being seminary guys, Ed, Brad, and Chewydad had loads to debate. Usually Laura and I were talking about other stuff, but sometimes the discussion/debate intrigued me. I would throw out my two-cents worth. I began to notice a pattern, though. When I would interject a comment, Brad and Ed would sit quietly–politely, even–and wait for me to finish. I could almost see them mentally rolling their eyes toward the ceiling and whistling in boredom until I finished my little piece. Then one would say, “So anyway…” and they’d get back to their manly discussion. I mean, as a woman, surely I couldn’t have an opinion–definitely not a theological one. Oh no. I needed to just chit-chat with Laura about what groceries were on sale or when we were going to start having babies–lots and lots of babies. Or we could talk about our new kittens–we had a little Siamese mix, and they had a Manx.

When I saw the video clip over at Tulipgirl, I laughed out loud in the beverage-spewing-out-the-nose kind of way. This was soooooo my life when I was with Ed and Brad and Laura.

I should add that Chewydad was always supportive of me having ideas and thoughts, and he never wanted me to know my limits. Okay, well, maybe never is a bit strong. But still–he was always glad to have me join the conversations!

For a whole long discussion (or two) about women’s issues, go on over to True Womanhood.

*Names have been changed to protect the guilty.

Last Thursday it dawned on me that with painters coming the next day to work on the upstairs of the new house, I had better pick out new light fixtures! The old ones are…well…old, and I sure didn’t want to have a permanent outline of those on my newly painted walls. I convinced DH that he could handle all five kids at the Special Olympics picnic, and can I just say that he did fine, and planned my little trip to Lowe’s.

Not long after I had hatched this plan, a friend phoned to see if I wanted to meet for coffee at our local Books-a-Million. Sweet! BAM is right across from Lowe’s, and no, we have no Starbucks or “normal” coffee shops in our town. Not to disparage the nice little mom-and-pop one we have, but they close at 6:00pm and are a wee bit lacking in atmosphere. Good coffee though. So anyway, I was free for the evening to buy things for the house and visit with a girlfriend.

I was successful at Lowe’s and even found a ridiculously girly ceiling fan for DD4’s room–pink with flowers. I headed over to BAM and met my friend M. We had a great 3-hour visit, and I won’t go into the details of everything we discussed. At a table nearby sat a man and woman, both probably mid-40s. Although I was engaged in my own conversation, I couldn’t help overhearing snippets of theirs.

First was, “I’ve gotten lots of women pregnant.” I smiled to myself. I have a good friend who is an OB-GYN, and he loves to pull that line. And he likes to walk up to complete (pregnant) strangers and say, “I’d say you look about 18 weeks pregnant,” or whatever his estimate is. His sweet wife follows him around and whispers, “He’s an OB/GYN. He loves to do that to people.” So anyway, I smiled at the man’s little joke and glanced over to see if I recognized him. This town isn’t that large, and my own OB’s practice has about seven doctors. Never seen this guy before.

A bit later, I caught the snippet…”I have even helped them decide whether they’re having a girl or a boy.” Hmmm. Either this guy is counseling on the front end on some odd techniques, or he is eliminating the wrong gender. Puzzled, I found myself eavesdropping more and more. I gathered that these were infertile women who were coming to him not only for help getting pregnant, but for help deciding when to get pregnant and what to have. And his method? Prayer and “claiming” it. This guy had a hotline to God that these women were not privy to!! And if they would come to him, he could be their mediator and make things happen for them! How cool is that?

Oh wait. There is that pesky little verse in 1 Timothy 2:5 that says, “For there is one God, and there is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus.” Jesus is our hotline to God! We don’t need some charlatan, er I mean wolf in sheeps clothing, no wait, that is strange man acting as a mediator and sucking in hurting women. We can go to Jesus ourselves and place our burdens upon Him. He cares for us–a lot more so than any man sitting in Books-a-Million selling his mediation services.

Y’all, we are just a whole bunch of really messed up people. The longer I’m alive, and the more I get to really know people, the more I hear of brokenness.

One of my friends has been hurt by another, and she is withdrawing from everyone who has been meaningful to her. She smiles, she tells people everything is “fine,” and yet we know she hurts. She won’t let anyone into that deep place. She is afraid of being hurt more.

Another friend went through a divorce recently. Her husband had abandoned her–moved across the country without her. She proceeded with the divorce, against the advice of her church, and was deeply hurt in the process. She ended up leaving her church of many years. She shares custody of her children. I know this is not the life she imagined for herself many years ago when she happily walked down the aisle.

Still another friend has faced a serious illness. Now his marriage is in shambles. The children are stressed, money is tight, he is bewildered, there is tension in the home, and many are hurting.

A girlfriend of mine is married to a man who has the ideal of him plopping into the easy chair at the end of a hard day, and her bringing him his beverage, the paper, and his slippers. She wants deep conversations and to be seen as an equal.

I could go on and on with my list. Sure, I know families who seem to have it all together. Heck, my family probably appears to some to have it all together! But oh, we so don’t. If you think you and your friends within the Christian community are not as bad off as my friends, then I want to tell you a little secret. You either don’t really know your friends, you are very young and haven’t experienced much yet, or you are not being honest–possibly even with yourself.

Why do we all wear masks? Why do we want to appear so perfect? Especially those who are Christians–we need to be genuine with one another and willing to let others into our lives. Jesus calls us his hands and feet–he wants us to be the ones to minister his grace to a hurting world! And yet when others do not let us in, how can we know we are needed? And turning the tables, if we don’t let others in, how can they participate in our pain as ministers of the gospel?

I pray that within the body of Christ, we will learn to be genuine people so that we have the opportunity to minister to the hurting and to be ministered to when we are the ones who are broken.

If you read here much, you have seen me mull over the role of women within the church. I am a member of a PCA church, and at this point, having women as officers is not an option. I don’t even know that I would be in favor of that–like I said, I have been given much to think about, and I still am thinking.

Over the course of my married life, DH and I have been members of five PCA churches, and we have seen a pattern. The elders (session) of every PCA church of which we have been members have been a pretty predictable, homogeneous group. I do not mean to demean the incredibly difficult work that they do or the huge responsibility that they carry, and I am extremely thankful for their service to their congregations. But these sessions are made up of men who are primarily 40+ year old successful business men. All make good money, have nice clothes, have a good wife, obedient kids, and a type-A personality.

Here is what Titus has to say about the qualifications for an elder:

6if anyone is above reproach, the husband of one wife,[a] and his children are believers and not open to the charge of debauchery or insubordination. 7For an overseer,[b] as God’s steward, must be above reproach. He must not be arrogant or quick-tempered or a drunkard or violent or greedy for gain, 8but hospitable, a lover of good, self-controlled, upright, holy, and disciplined. 9He must hold firm to the trustworthy word as taught, so that he may be able to give instruction in sound[c] doctrine and also to rebuke those who contradict it.

Call me crazy, but I do not see anywhere a requirement to be a successful businessman, or a “type-A” personality. The problem I have with a session like this is that first, type-As tend to be perfectionists. And a perfectionist has a hard time seeing his own sin. I say this kindly, as a recovering perfectionist myself (although anyone who knows what my house normally looks like knows that I am not a perfectionist when it comes to housework!). When you strive for perfection, you fail to see your own shortcomings. And it can make you unmerciful toward those who do struggle. Those who are successful in their personal and professional lives have a hard time thinking with compassion. And this can lead to a legalistic interpretation of the rules in terms of church discipline.

In our Sunday school class, we have been studying how Jesus reacted in many situations. The big thing we are seeing is that Jesus looked at people. He really saw the person. Think of the woman at the well. She had clearly broken many of God’s laws. Jesus did not look at her with condemnation, puzzling over why she couldn’t get her act together, or why she kept falling for losers. He SAW her. He saw her hurts, her needs, and he offered her grace.

In contrast, I have seen situation after situation handled by PCA sessions where the letter of the law was upheld and grace was not freely given. Yes, there need to be rules governing membership and guarding the communion table, but still. What would happen if we had a session member who [gasp] thought like a woman? I’m not even saying it needs to be a woman. But someone who tends to think emotionally. Maybe a man who is not a successful businessman, but one who is artsy!

Often I hear people speculate about why women are forbidden from being church leaders (this is among those who believe this, of course). Usually they (and women are included in this) say things like, “Oh, God knew that women would react emotionally!” Or, “Women would get all emotionally involved and tend to gossip.” Why do we say things like that? Is emotion a bad thing? Is feeling compassion, weeping with those who weep, showing mercy to those who struggle a bad thing? Did God goof when he made women the way he did? Heck, no!!! Female traits–like being emotional–are a good thing. Nowhere in scripture do I see an indication that woman are less sensible, or that female traits are a bad thing. In fact, women complete men. In other words, men are incomplete. They need the sensitive, emotional balance of a woman to make them whole as a person–a complete representative of God and His nature. I am generalizing about men’s and women’s personality types, but you know what I mean.

So why would it be a bad thing to have a session that was balanced out by a few more emotional, compassionate types? I don’t know. Maybe it is human nature to be drawn to those who are successful. I mean, if the guy can handle his business well, then he can handle the affairs of the church well. It is true, we don’t want the town drunk or a recent felon running our church. But ya’ know, in spite of the list in Titus, I think it’s okay to have sinners on the session. I think it would be hard not to. But how about some people who recognize their own sinfulness and are broken by it? People who can act with compassion, because they have been down and out and know what it is to receive grace and compassion from their Lord? And who are anxious to cover the congregation with the same grace, mercy, and love.

Several weeks ago, I received a call from one of DS16’s friend’s moms. It started out as a nice chit chat, but then she explained the reason for her call. She told me that DS16 was calling her son obsessively. He is a good bit younger than DS16, and she felt that DS16 was becoming controlling of her son. She wanted me to act to get him to stop calling her son so much.

I was not shocked by what she said. We knew DS16 was calling some people way more than he should. The disadvantage of him having a cell phone. We had wondered how it would go when we gave it to him, almost six months ago. It has come in handy at times when he has needed to be picked up from a practice, or when he has wandered off and we need to locate him. In a big crowd, like at a ball game, it is convenient to be able to call him rather than wandering through the bleachers, squinting against the lights, trying to pick him out among the 300 students sporting the same high-school colors of red and black. But we wondered if the conveniences were being outweighed by his constant phone calls to kind souls who programmed their numbers into his phone. This seemed to be our answer.

I took his phone for a few days. Out of curiosity, I spent some time studying his call history. There was this kid’s name, over and over in his history. But wait. Upon closer inspection, in the preceding three weeks, DS16 had called this kid a total of once. The kid in question, however, had called DS16 four times. I double checked, thinking I must be misunderstanding the symbols for calls placed and received. I even called the phone from my own phone just to be sure. I was right. The kid was calling DS16, not the other way around. I was filled with righteous indignation. How dare this mother call and accuse my son of being obsessive!

This woman really is not someone I know–in fact, this was my first contact with her. I did not feel comfortable calling her back to tattle on her son. So I did what any mature Christian woman would do. I stewed.

I also recognized that although this woman was wrong, DS16 did have a problem. I read up on how to actually program his phone, which we had purchased specifically because it had the ability to be set with parental restrictions. And I programmed his phone so that he can only call me, DH, and his brother, DS14. This has worked much better. Except that now DS16 finds any excuse to call us, and when we ignore his call, he leaves a message. A long message. Where he repeats his phone number over and over and over and over like an infomercial. As in, “Hello, this is DS16. Please call me back. 555-1212. 555-1212. 555-1212. 555-1212. 555-1212. 555-1212. 555-1212.” You think I’m kidding, right? I’m not. At all.

So anyhoo….Today DS16 went to a Special Olympics practice where this kid would also be present. It would be the first time he had seen him since his mother’s phone call. And I heard myself telling the coach, “Yeah, this kid’s mom called me a while back to complain about DS16 calling her son so much. Turns out, her kid was making all of the calls! Hahaha!” Now, why in the heck did I do that? It was a month ago, I haven’t had any reason to talk about it since, and this coach was not involved at all! Self-righteousness, that’s why. Even though I know my son had a problem with obsessing over his cell phone, this time he was falsely accused. And I’ll be darned if I can stand by and have someone think he did something he did not do! It’s a reflection on me, after all, right? I will not have my reputation tainted. If I can prove that my kid did nothing wrong, then by George, I’m gonna do just that.

My pride and my desire to be righteous were more important than keeping my mouth closed when information did not need to be shared. As a parent, it is a humbling thing to be told that your kid has done wrong. The crazy thing is, I recognize that my kids are sinful. I am their mother. I see their nature flare up regularly. I have no problem correcting, disciplining, rebuking them. But if someone else notices a flaw, it suddenly is all about me. It’s a reflection of me, and self-preservation along with a dose of self-righteousness kicks in, and I find myself defensive. I’m sure nobody else has ever done this, right?