Peace that Passes Understanding

“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God: and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6-7**

It had been eight days since I last saw him. This season of work travel and children scattered far and wide and aging parents has us stretched thin and missing each other. He found me upstairs in the furthest corner of the house, away from the late evening hum of teenagers.

"You look worried," he said.

He hasn't seen me in over a week and the first impression is one of worry. First, that's very perceptive. Second, oh dear, where is the peace that passes understanding? I am a creature of habit. I like to settle into rhythms, to work out kinks, to make life run along familiar, predictable tracks. 

But it doesn't.

Just as we figure out one stage of life, we move to the next. Life shifts and lurches and sometimes the fault beneath my feet nauseates me as it violently rocks. I want to make sense of all of it--to understand. And I want to be understood.

I have more than twice the number of children as my friends with large families. This life of extravagant abundance of souls doesn't look anything like the fundamentalists of my 20s and 30s said it would. Those lies reverberate some days: What's one more? There's always room; babies don't need much. They can sleep in a dresser drawer, padded soft. If you're diligent and organized and intentional enough, the Lord will bless your efforts and you will meet all their needs, all the time. And my favorite: Homeschool them. Invest the time--all the time--when they are little, you won't have any of society's teenage ills under your roof as they grow. We know that's not true.

One more is one more. And even when it is added to six or seven or eight, it is another whole person on whom all the many aspects of good parenting must be bestowed. I want to offer to my friends who have two children and seem bewildered by my present challenges the explanation that everything they do for theirs--everything they feel--I do just as much with each one of mine. 

A baby might be made comfortable in a softly padded dresser drawer turned into temporary makeshift cradle for a very little while, but when he is fourteen years old and six feet tall, he needs a bed. Oh, and there will come a time that he will outgrow his shoes every three months, so it's a good idea to start saving for that right around the time that you transition him out of the dresser drawer.

I love this life. I wouldn't trade a single moment of those 81 months of pregnancy (all those overdue babies making up for the one who came three months early, so that my average is just about nine average gestations). I wouldn't trade 22 years of diapers, sometimes three children at a time. And I definitely wouldn't trade more than twenty continuous years of nursing babies. I've loved every hour spent sitting next to a child as she figures out how to make sense of letters printed on a page. And yes, I've loved the hours behind the wheel of a car, with a teenage boy as my front seat companion. It turns out that I've gotten quite the musical education by allowing them to choose the station and spin the dial as I drive to soccer or basketball. We moved from Matchbox 20 to Blink 182 to Brad Paisley to Taylor Swift to Ed Sheeran--each boy in succession tuning me to himself at the radio controls. It's been quite a ride.

But I thought I'd have it all figured out by now and instead I'm still surprised that the sheer numbers dictate that nearly every day, there will be something new to wrestle. I want to understand. I want to flip to the end of the book and read the last chapter so that I can let go of the tension and relax into the middle of the story.

And I want to be understood.

Me, the crazy lady down the street with all the kids. 

I am worried. Times nine. 

And He tells me to be anxious for nothing. Nothing.

Come; crawl up on My lap. When you are tired of being the grownup and when you just really want someone to take care of you, turn your face expectantly to Me and see that I hold peace. Make supple your heart. Soften. Ask. Come humbly to Me and know that I see you.

I know your needs and I understand them perfectly.

Already, I know. 

And I will stand guard.

Are you worried? Can I pray peace for you, too?

Every Good and Perfect Gift

THINK

Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. James 1:17

PRAY

I'm committing this day to seeing the gifts you give, Lord. All of them. Open my eyes. 

ACT

Peter Kreeft writes, 

"All the things in this world are gifts and signs. As gifts, they point beyond themselves to the divine giver. As signs, they point beyond themselves to the God they signify and reveal, as a letter reveals the writer. And since God is love, the one thing everything signifies is God's love to us. The whole world is a love letter from God...

...This way of looking at things, as gifts and signs rather than simply as things in themselves, is not our usual way of seeing. Try this new way for just one hour and see the difference it makes. See the sunrise not as a mindless, mechanical necessity but as God's smile. See a wave not just as tons of cold salt water crashing down on the shore but as God's playful action. See even death as not just a biological necessity but as God tucking us in at bedtime so that we can rise to new life in the morning.

This is not a trick we play on ourselves or a fantasy. This is what the world really is. It is just as true to say that every snowflake is a gift of God as it is true to say that every cent in a father's inheritance is a gift to his children. It is just as true to say that every leaf on every tree is a work of art made by the divine artist with the intention that we see it, know it, love it, and rejoice in it, as it is true to say that every word in a lover's letter to his beloved is meant to be seen, known, loved, and enjoyed. This is not fantasy. What is fantasy is the horrible habit the modern world has gotten itself into, the habit of thinking that what the world really is is only atoms and chance, only what the senses and science reveal, the view that everything else is mere subjective fancy."

Do you see the gifts in your world? What does His love letter to you say?

~*~*~*~

If #morningrun blesses you, please share the image so that others can find us here?

Motherhood can feel like the loneliest vocation in the world. Surrounded by children, who frequently bring us to our knees, both literally and figuratively, we can be overwhelmed by isolation. Mothers need community. We can be community for one another. We can encourage on another and hold each other accountable. If you like these short devotions, please share the image and send another woman here. And when you're here, please take a moment to pray with another mother who is visiting. Leave a comment and when you do, pray for the woman whose comment is just above yours. Just a moment--blessed--will begin to build community.

I like to pray when I run in the morning. Often, I listen to Divine Office and pray Morning Prayer or the Office of Readings. Then, I just take up a conversation with God. I'd love to pray for you! Please leave your prayer requests below and we can pray for each other, no matter how we spend our morning prayer time. Meet me back here tomorrow and I'll share the ponderings from my #morningrun.

When Lent looks like a car crash (or two)

Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said,

“Never will I leave you;
    never will I forsake you.” Hebrews 13:5

We have been hammered with unexpected, unbudgeted expenses lately. Two ER visits, a plastic surgeon, an orthopedist, an ambulance, countless pediatrician co-pays, dad's car needing major repairs, mom's car in the shop for a week after someone hit me, and then...

...last week in the peace and calm that is a snowstorm that keeps us all hunkered down and safe from the world, a snowplow hit our third car. You can't make this stuff up. On the same day my husband was retrieving my car after being repaired from the first accident of the month, I was filing a hit-and-run claim with sheriff on the second accident. 

I want to look up at the sky and remind God that we are working super hard to provide here and these big ticket deductibles are starting to scare me. 

Instead, I go for a walk. 

I inhale the absolutely stunning artistry that is a snow day. He can do this! All of this! This glistening, crystal-dripping, opulent beauty. It's His handiwork.

God is God.

He knows all about the insurance companies. He knows all about the work schedules, and the school schedules, and the intense travel schedule in the spring-- and all the demands for fully-functioning automobiles. He is God.

He blankets the whole world in tiny crystals fashioned one at a time. 

And yes, he knows about the beast of a snow plow that took out a 2006 station wagon that isn't even our oldest car. God is bigger than snow plows. 

I was up at 4:00 this morning. Usually, when I awaken at such ridiculous hours, I manage to get up without waking my husband. This time, he was awake, too. He asked what woke me. 

"I don't know, " came my reply, "but my first thoughts were of rental cars and faulty web links."

Perhaps I went to sleep in a cloud of worry.

Perhaps.

And perhaps this morning was a good time to press the re-set button and to focus on contentedness. It was still snowing when the car was hit. Snow covered all the broken pieces of plastic and glass. But with the sunlight, the top layer melted, and there, crushed and fragmented, are the remnants of money invested in a material thing. Cars, houses, clothing, even food--all these things that take up so much brain space, they are easily crushed and broken.

Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life[?“And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin.  Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.  If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’  For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.  Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. Matthew 6:26-34

God has no need for money. His exquisite blanket cannot be purchased at any cost. The grasses of these fields? They are clothed in crystal! Faith rises above worry. Even above money worry. I am called to be content. I am given grace to be faithful. I have to remind myself until it's embedded deep within me: He will never leave me. He will never forsake me. Even if I'm stranded with a disabled vehicle, God is bigger.

He'll come get me. 

{Dump your money woes in the combox this morning. Let's pray for each other!}

~*~*~*~

If #morningrun blesses you, please share the image so that others can find us here?

Motherhood can feel like the loneliest vocation in the world. Surrounded by children, who frequently bring us to our knees, both literally and figuratively, we can be overwhelmed by isolation. Mothers need community. We can be community for one another. We can encourage on another and hold each other accountable. If you like these short devotions, please share the image and send another woman here. And when you're here, please take a moment to pray with another mother who is visiting. Leave a comment and when you do, pray for the woman whose comment is just above yours. Just a moment--blessed--will begin to build community.

I like to pray when I run in the morning. Often, I listen to Divine Office and pray Morning Prayer or the Office of Readings. Then, I just take up a conversation with God. I'd love to pray for you! Please leave your prayer requests below and we can pray for each other, no matter how we spend our morning prayer time. Meet me back here tomorrow and I'll share the ponderings from my #morningrun.

beholding, wonder, recollection and quiet.

THINK

Any kind of hectic activity, even in religious affairs, is utterly alien to the New Testament picture of man. We always overestimate ourselves when we imagine we are completely indispensable and that the world or the Church depends on our frantic activity. Often it will be an act of real humility and creaturely honesty to stop what we are doing, to acknowledge our limits, to take time to draw breath and rest—as the creature, man, is designed to do. I am not suggesting that sloth is a good thing, but I do want to suggest that we revise our catalog of virtue, as it has developed in the Western world, where activity alone is regarded as valid and where the attitudes of beholding, wonder, recollection and quiet are of no account, or at least are felt to need some justification. This causes the atrophy of certain essential human faculties“ 

Pope Benedict XVI Co-Workers of the Truth: Meditations for Every Day of the Year.

PRAY

Lord, let me see where my activity is actually keeping me from you. Help me to move against the current of the culture and to step out in faith and fully embrace the attitudes of beholding, wonder, recollection and quiet.

ACT

When we push ourselves to our limits and imagine that we are indispensable to our work or even to our families, are we indulging in pride? Is the real act of humility to acknowledge that we are not limitless and to stop moving so quickly through a busy, busy world? Is the humble act the one where we breathe deeply and rest? Let's try that today. Let's step off the busy freight train barreling through life at breakneck speed and let's step into nature. Change the scene. Leave the blinding lights, the screens, the car on its way to yet another obligation, and instead draw a breath in the natural world . Stretch your legs, fill your lungs, empty your mind. 

Activity in and of itself is not a virtue. Sloth is not a good thing, but there is real value in purposeful leisure. Make time for that leisure today. 

It's snowing here today. The will be no run outdoors, but I promise you, there will be time to get out in the world of white and inhale the peace that is a snow day in March. I'm looking forward to it!

What is keeping you from the embracing an attitude of beholding, wonder, recollection, and quiet? Are those elusive states of being for some of us? Or is there a way to build them into the day, no matter what the vocation?

It's Not About the Hamburger

So, how’s the fasting going? You are not alone if you’re finding that it is a struggle to give up what you gave up. It’s not just a corporal struggle — at least, it’s not supposed to be. Our purpose in fasting is spiritual. In our daily lives, the world can overwhelm us. We are bombarded by all those things that fill our senses and demand our attention. Both the desires and the genuine needs of our flesh distract from our spiritual growth. Our daily goal — every day — is to grow more perfect in Christ. 

So many things get in the way. Fasting isn’t an end in itself. It’s not a good deed by which we merit a reward. Fasting is a means to a spiritual goal. It is a way to make us aware of all the obstacles between us and living like Christ did. Hopefully, our Lenten fast brings spiritual renewal, true repentance and genuine reconciliation. Why, though, do fasts often fail to achieve their intended spiritual ends?

In the Eastern Orthodox Church and the Eastern Catholic rite, Lent begins with Forgiveness Sunday. After the vespers service, the first Lenten act is to ask and offer forgiveness to everyone present in the church and then to expand the act out into the world. This isn’t a vague, general gesture, but individual pleas for forgiveness from one person to another and another, throughout the congregation. Each person bows and asks the other, “Forgive me, a sinner.” And each parishioner responds by also asking for forgiveness and assuring, “God forgives.” Then, in both the Eastern Orthodox Church and the Eastern Catholic rite, a very strict dietary fast is undertaken for all of Lent. 

I have to think that such a fast is made more possible because it begins with Forgiveness Sunday. Fasting is fruitful when the Lenten garden is sown with the seeds of forgiveness. Reconciliation is at the core of Christianity. In those final moments in the Upper Room, knowing well the sins that would be committed against Him by His friends, Jesus knelt before each and every one and washed feet. He humbled Himself in a gesture of service and sacrifice. He knew what those disciples would do to hurt or betray Him. He knows what we will do to hurt or betray Him. And still He knelt. 

Jesus died to forgive us. He showed us how to love; through His forgiveness we can forgive. After He finished washing their feet, Jesus gave to His apostles a new commandment: “Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other. Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples” (Jn 13:34-35).

God love us, and He forgives us. He sent us His Son, who kneels and washes our feet, so that by sharing in His humanity, we are truly reconciled and forgiven. When we watch the Teacher in the Upper Room, we learn that the act of forgiveness is an act of pure love. It is living a whole life of pure love that is really the aim of our Lenten fasting.

To fast better, we must forgive better. We have to recognize that what stands between us and the ability to love well is any impediment we hold out against reconciliation — with God and neighbor. If we are struggling with our fasting, let’s begin our Lent anew. This time, let’s start by asking forgiveness of our neighbor. Our selfishness, our envy, our impatience, our indifference are all sins against love. When we ask for forgiveness and we grant forgiveness to one another, we open the floodgates of grace. 

Having forgiven one another, we are better able to ask God for forgiveness. That brings us to a fruitful confession. God doesn’t need our confession; we do. Because we have known both repentance and forgiveness in our community, we are able to move closer to loving as Jesus did. Softer, more humbly we approach mercy Himself, where our wounds are bound and our souls are healed. Grace rushes in and then our fasting is more fruitful. Ultimately, it’s not about giving up a hamburger or a Coke. It’s about dying to our passions in order to humble ourselves in front of one another and letting love live.