I was up, for once, five minutes before the kids bounced out of bed. The five minutes of a quiet kitchen and living room to myself was nice.
But what was unexpected, what I absolutely loved, came next.
First it was Daughter. She must’ve heard me puttering, so she decided that even though her alarm clock did not say it was okay to get up, she could anyway. She came and found me, and, before anything else, she wrapped her arms around me. Her head reaches to my armpit now, which still doesn’t feel right. How is she so BIG already? She’s not even a decade old yet! But still, way taller than I feel like she should be or not, first thing out of bed, and she wants to start her day with a hug.
Her brother probably heard us talking, though us girls were very quiet, trying to keep these few sacred “girl time” moments to ourselves. Son came to find us too, sneaking into the kitchen, hoping to cause girly squeals of surprise to erupt from his sister and me.
But really, for him too, his main goal was to start the day with a mama hug.
As much as these kiddos constantly overstimulate me (I had no idea I even COULD be overstimulated before I became a parent), and want to sit on my lap with a tape measure and discover how much space is between my ears, between my eyes, how big my nose is, etc., or constantly want to snuggle, and as much as I might very well need alone time with no one touching me, their hugs will always be precious to me. Very few things make me feel as loved and seen as their hugs.
And being the start to their day will, as long as I am given the honor, always be cherished by me.
I think God feels the same way about me when it comes to mornings and hugs.
I could write more about that connection, but I feel like you probably get it, and for me to write more will just get corny. Shrug. We wouldn’t want to get corny, now would we?
Nope, I get it now. Sometimes removing things and people from your life is painful, like feels-as-if-you’re-loosing-yourself painful. I’ve known this; I just forgot it sometime recently…ish… Not sure when. Probably because I’ve been holding on to things so hard for so long. I wasn’t being “mushified”; my fingers were being forcibly unclenched, the clam-like shells of my mind had to be pried open to the idea of not needing everything that surrounded me – the people, the places, but mostly the routines and the stuff.
I didn’t grow up with much. I mean, I grew up in the United States, and my parents had a house, and a car each, so we had PLENTY. But I grew up with my mother always saying there wasn’t enough money, and I grew up attending a private school (my parents taught there, which is the only way they afforded it) where all my friends pretty much always got what they wanted. They never had to shop deals, or deal with shoes that were too small for a season. And they didn’t have to go camping on their family vacations since their parents could pay for hotels. So it didn’t feel like we had plenty.
AND….I have this creative mind that sees a fun, potential project in literally everything. Plus, I like having stuff on-hand to give to others who might need it.
So, with the creative-potential side of me, and the grew-up-with-an-impoverished mindset, sometimes I give my kids too much stuff. And I forget to get creative if our family has a need, and instead I just buy…whatever it is I think we need. A certain at-my-fingertips-gigantic store has enabled this. My fault- using it that way, not its fault.
So, we have too much stuff, and we were probably doing too much. And it was stressing me out. And I prayed to live a slightly simpler life…I just didn’t think through the potential pain in the implications of this particular prayer.
But God knew, and I guess God agreed that a slightly simpler life might be a good idea. So He helped out. And it hurt for a bit.
But now, NOW, I can walk into the living room where the kids’ toys are and sigh in relief. It’s a peaceful space. Sure, there are still toys and books, but there’s space. Now I’m working on our room, our privatest space. I want it to have margins too – extra space. Peace.
I think seminary was the first place I heard the term “margins” referring to time, not just the edges of a paper. I liked the idea. I’ve always filled the margins of my life – from hearts and curlicues on the edges of middle school worksheets, to adding another club or activity every year in high school, to having practically no margin in college – along with some very pretty, impressive doodles in my college notebooks (side note – I feel sorry for the kids today who only take notes on their computers; it’s much harder to doodle there. Class notes must be boring to look at when studying.)
But margins are important. Margins allow you space to be more spontaneous – to have that neighbor over, to take that walk, to have that important conversation with your child or spouse. Margins allow you room to listen to the Spirit and follow where He leads. Margins allow you to not always be in a rush, or dictated by a minute-by-minute schedule.
It was excruciating, having to build margins in – probably will be for a while as I get used to this lifestyle. But (I can already tell)
I almost lost it in Wendy’s today. Like, crying, full melt-down, hair pulling lost it. Well, actually, I did the hair pulling. My hair was in a braid, so it gave myself a good handle. And I barely contained my crying. But I mean, when the lady behind the counter won’t even look me in the eye and is asking all the right questions, but has a mic on, so I assume she’s talking to the car line, and not me….but then she gets mad at me for not answering her. I mean, I tried to order via app so that we wouldn’t have to talk, because I don’t have space to talk today, but the app wouldn’t let me click the “Order Now” button for whatever reason that I couldn’t figure out. No reason was given by the app. I looked, I promise. So now I have to talk to her, she who refuses to look me in the eye, not to mention stand still behind the register or smile. I mean, I don’t always need a smile (though one would have been GREAT today), but eye contact helps. Isn’t that part of her job? Standing and acknowledging people? Like….basic, base level? Pressing buttons being the next level up? I know I sound awful here, but I really just needed someone to see me. Even someone I was ordering from.
And sure, I’m an emotional mess right now. My space doesn’t exist. I’ve been rebuilding my emotional, spiritual space for a couple years now, and I was just beginning to feel like me again, feel like I had a bit of power, feel like I knew how to handle things, or at least could handle things… and now, again, it’s gone. I’m gone. Lost amongst boxes full of things that I don’t have space for in a space that was offered to me, but not really (apparently) offered to me and my family. Space offered if it looks a certain way. Which is ludicrous. Anyone who knows my family knows we don’t look or act that “certain” way. Don’t offer something you don’t mean. So Puff. I’m gone. And I can’t stop crying. Because there’s no room for me to be me, or for my kids to be kids.
So, when the app doesn’t work, and I hadn’t brought lunch – which I normally would – because the meeting for my daughter that my husband set up for me lasts over an hour but I had figured 15 minutes tops, because how long does it take to enter a passcode? So, we’re all hungry, and life is awful, and we haven’t gone to our favorite place in a while because – move, so Wendy’s would be a fun special treat. But like all attempts at fun recently, it backfires and becomes burned-at-the-stake level torture, and then I order what I’ve ordered from the app before, but order from a woman who won’t stop moving and may or may not be talking to me, and then won’t just give me a jr cheeseburger because those don’t exist (but they do, I swear)…I start crying, pulling on my braid, almost can’t function with my children, lose it in Wendys. And I’ve become the woman I never thought I would be – COULD be.
It’s been alot recently. My family moved to a different state for several reasons. I quit a job I loved in order to make that move. And I’m feeling lost. And squished. And impossible. And a mess. And a burden. And incompetent.
And I don’t understand why I needed to go through this again. This Chrysalis Season – AGAIN.
God, why, oh why, must I be mushified again? What is it about me that You hate so much? Why do I need to be mush? What is it about me that needs to change? Are you ever going to be pleased with me? Am I ever going to be good enough for you?
But anyway, yeah. I lost it in Wendy’s today.
Moving sucks.
Also, I’m looking for a job, if anyone knows of one.
I am really beginning to the hate the Christian phrase, “Well, we’re human.”
There is this idea out there that it is our humanity that causes, or maybe better said, allows, us to do horrible things, or to not achieve what we’re supposed to.
We’re humans, so we murder.
We’re humans, so we wreck our environment.
We’re humans, so we use each other.
We’re humans, so we gossip.
We’re humans, so we sleep around.
We’re humans, so we bully each other.
We’re humans, so…
You get the idea.
And I hate it, because it’s not true. We DON’T do those things because we’re humans. There is nothing bad about being human. In fact, when God made Adam and Eve, in the garden, He said that “It was very good.” God wouldn’t say that about something that inherently did horrible things.
Being human is good.
But, living in a world that is broken, (thanks to a little fruit eating, and then years and millennia and who knows how long of rebellion against God) we seem to think that this is natural. That our fallen state is natural. And that this is just the way it is.
And it IS just the way it is…but it wasn’t supposed to be so.
Stop blaming stuff on being human, and own up to being broken. It might actually help.
Broken can be fixed. Broken can be restored and redeemed. Broken can be repurposed. Broken is not the end of the world.
Own up to being simply broken, to living in a broken world (it will help you remember this isn’t how it’s supposed to be and there is better coming); allow God to fix your brokenness. Let’s see where that gets us.
What does God’s love for me feel like? And, for that matter, what does me loving Him back look like?
I’ve gotten this question a lot recently. It almost seems to be whispered by the air, filling the minds of many wondering teenagers.
And I totally get it. I mean, how DOES God, a non-human being (or presence, or whatever un-humanly-fathomable God is) love us humans? We are incredibly physical beings. If you buy into the five love languages (gifts, words of affirmation, acts of service, quality time, physicality)…all of those are pretty dependant on this physical world. How can God, who is outside of time and space, reach into our little three dimensional world and express His love to us through one of the incredibly limited ways we receive love? I mean, really. How?
And, okay, say that God does reach through time and space to show me He loves me and…I don’t know…has some flower bloom extra-brilliantly for me with the exact right lighting, right as I’m walking by? How do I know that was God, and not just a really pretty moment? What if I didn’t even notice? Or, if God does one of His “talking to me” things which feels a whole lot more like instinct or premonition or my subconscious trying to get attention, how do I know it’s God?
Yeah. Exactly.
And how do I love God back? I mean, He’s not human, not to mention He’s not even really a “He” (No, don’t go yelling at me for that one, it’s true. If God made man AND woman in His image, than both reflect Him, which means He isn’t a He, nor a She, but both…somehow. We can talk – nicely- about it if you want.) How do I know what He likes? He’s not human or a creature – how do I even know He CAN “like” stuff? I can’t give Him a hug. I can’t give Him Christmas gifts. I can’t even find His profile on Facebook (well, I found a Facebook page that was named “God”…but I’m pretty sure it’s not actually His), so I can’t like any of His pictures or statuses.
So, HOW!?!
I really wish there was a formula. I wish I could play Cogsworth (the clock dude from Beauty and the Beast) and tell you exactly how God loves you and how you can love Him back.
I mean, of course, as for God’s love, He has shown us the ultimate love by coming to Earth and taking our place and the consequences of our sinful lives. Which is really, untruly, unfathomable. But, on an everyday basis, in an incredibly physical world, sometimes we need a little personal reminder, right? A man can marry a woman, but if he doesn’t tell her at least daily after the ceremony that he loves her, things are going to get rather ugly. She’s eventually going to believe lies and she’ll forget that he loves her. Saying “I love you” only at the wedding is just not enough. This is common sense (or should be).
Same is true of us and God, I think. I say that feeling a bit guilty and ashamed. I mean, Jesus’ sacrifice should be enough. But I’m human; I need a daily reminder. (I think this was true before the world got all messy too – hence why God came down and walked with Adam and Eve in the garden often.)
After wrestling with this for years myself, the best I’ve come up with is actually pretty simplistic. Though, keep in mind, unlike Cogsworth, I really don’t believe there’s a formula to this. God, though orderly, is willing to enter into our mess, which means He’s not bound by formula.
First, you just gotta believe. If you love God, if you want to love Him better, if you’ve surrendered your life to Him, than you need to remember that the Holy Spirit dwells with you. He helps you out. And often that feels like, for me anyway, a huge urge within me. A desire that is so pressing is almost feels like a need. I had it explained once to me as the “blow fish” feeling – it feels like everything inside you is pounding / getting larger/ pressing to get out, and if you don’t do whatever it is you need to do or believe whatever you need to believe, you’ll explode.
Sometimes He’s much more quiet than that, and I wake up one morning realizing that I believe something I didn’t know I believed, or that I’m determined to do something I didn’t know I was going to do.
And I have to believe Him loving me happens in those moments when I feel close to Him. Those moments when there is no real reason to feel extra close to Him, but I do. Or when I notice that yellow flower growing on the side of the road, or I get a needed hug from an unexpected source. Or dinner is extra delicious for no real reason. Or, those incredibly rare, extra special moments when I’m being still, or even taking a walk or a hike or something and I can almost, physically, feel His presence surrounding me. I have to not let my mind explain those treasured moments away. I have to have faith that those experiences are actually God reaching out to little, limited, broken me.
As for loving Him back, I firmly believe that God gave each of us things we love to do, that can be forms of us telling God we love Him, us worshipping Him. For me, that’s writing, taking pictures, going for walks, spending time in His creation, or having good conversations with friends and my kids. For my dad, it’s learning or completing a Sudoku puzzle. For Mom, it’s gardening. For some, it might mean baking. For others, it might mean painting or sewing or doing ceramics, or creating sculptures. For some it might mean throwing a football, or scoring a basket. Or driving. Or doing some sort of complicated mathematical formula. It looks like many different things. For me, the key is picturing God in my mind, doing it with me.
And, of course, the main way we love God is to love others. We are His reflection. We carry His image within us. How we treat each other is how we treat God. Jesus said that the greatest commandment was to “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, and soul” and the second was to “love your neighbor as yourself”. He said it in the same breath, even though he had only been asked what the greatest was. It was as if the two commandments lead to each other. As if one can’t really be done without the other. Love God – through people, through your neighbor.
So, in summary (because people like summaries and I’ve “talked” a lot): TRUST –
trust that, when you think it might be, that it actually IS God speaking to you, loving you. LOVE OTHERS –
Do whatever you have to do to let others know you love them. Pretty “simple”. Ha! DO FUN STUFF –
Do stuff you enjoy, the stuff that gives you endorphins (even if, as is often true in my case,
there is no physical reason why you should be having endorphins running through you) and
invite God along. He’s coming anyway, you might as well acknowledge Him, hang out with Him,
get to know Him better. It’s so much less awkward than when you’re ignoring Him when He’s
coming along anyway.
The way the sun is hitting my computer screen creates a pretty good reflection right now. I see myself, my white earbuds in, the butterfly necklace around my neck, my navy blue shirt which looks black in the screen. The way the sun is hitting my face is rather artistic, half lit, half in obscured shadow. I see my thin-framed glasses, the arch of my eyebrows, the outline of my lips, the beginning hints of the wrinkles that will deepen over the rest of my life.
I like what I see. Not necessarily the physical aspect of my reflection (though I’m pretty partial to that face and the twinkling eyes), but the heart and unshaped dreams that also are reflecting back at me. I don’t know exactly what’s coming. I don’t know where I’ll be when I’m done with seminary (or even if I’ll finish, though I plan to). I don’t know what my life or my dreams will look like. But I like the woman I am becoming, and I am excited to see what God does with and through her.
Mixed in with this morning’s version of my reflection is the computer’s background – which is a picture of a humming bird with blurry wings sucking nectar from a yellow flower. I took this picture something like two years ago, a couple weeks after I had been fighting with God. It is a reminder of God’s love for me, and how far He has brought me in the past couple years.
And I think the fact that I like the reflection of the girl in the monitor is a direct result of the fact that she actually believes God loves her, that He has a crazy adventure planned out for her, and that He is a God who, while being God and so Just and Righteous and Powerful, is also a God who simply loves.
The first time I actually thought about that verse must have happened sometime in middle school, because I remember thinking, “Huh, I can do better than that. I don’t love myself, but I love others. I can love my neighbor better than I love myself.”
I’ve heard quite a few sermons and theories about this particular verse over the years. Everything from, “Well, it actually means to love yourself as you’d love your neighbor” to “You know, try to love yourself, try to love your neighbor” to “Love God, that’s what really matters”.
I wonder if loving ourselves is a uniquely Western culture problem (where very few people actually love themselves, actually are comfortable in their own skin – everyone just pretends) or if this is an age-old human problem. I think maybe, if it were a universal problem, perhaps the scriptures would have been worded differently. Maybe.
Because we pretend we love ourselves. And sure, we’re selfish, we still take care of Number One before we take care of everyone else. And if that’s what the scripture means – to take care of everyone else to the same extent that you take care of yourself – as some of my professors think – than it’s an easy scripture. I mean, no not easy. Taking care of someone else to the same extent that you take care of yourself, or protecting someone else as much as you protect your own well-being is never “easy”…but it’s rather surface-level if you ask me.
I have come to realize, over the years, that if I don’t “love myself”, than I can’t love others well. And this gets tricky. Because, yes, without fully being comfortable with whom I am, without liking my quirks, strengths and weaknesses, I can still be nice to people. I can still be kind. But…it is not the same as if I am fully embracing myself. If I’m not a fan of who I am, I can only be nice or kind or giving or date someone so long before things start blowing up. Whether I suddenly start showing my judgmental thoughts, or just stop showing up to hang out, or start getting super depressed (this is NOT the only reason for depression, mind you) or dependent on others or any number of super unhealthy things, something awful is going to show up. Guaranteed.
But even bigger than that is the simple thing that love is generally meant to be reciprocated. So, if you don’t love the person you are created to be, than how can you allow anyone else to love you (because yes, to some extent you have to allow and accept love from others)? If you don’t love yourself, you can’t allow someone else’s love for you to really penetrate the depths of you that love is meant to penetrate.
The tricky thing is – that you can’t. You just can’t love yourself, love the person you are, without God’s help. Sorry. It’s just not going to happen. Only through the knowledge that you are Christ’s kid, and dearly loved by Him, specially created to have the quirks, strengths, weaknesses and passions you do, can you begin to really, truly, embrace the person you are. And it is only by His strength in this world of brokenness that is trying to get you to believe the lie that you are never good enough and must be constantly doing something else; that you can even begin to accept the amazing being you have been created to be.
So, again, start praying. Pray that God opens your eyes to see yourself as He sees you – as much as He’ll let you. If we could see how deeply loved and precious we are in God’s eyes, than I’m pretty sure we’d be able to enjoy and hold close the person God is calling each of us to be.
Sometime in the last year or so I read an article floating somewhere on the internet that talked about how we shouldn’t compliment very young girls with words like “pretty girl” and such, because then, somewhere in their psyche, they will think they have to be pretty to be appreciated, loved, and accepted.
I’m not sure how much I buy that, though I know that at some point in my childhood I definitely adopted that mentality. That I had to be pretty, I had to be skinny (well, or at least, ‘normal’ – which I was not) for anyone to actually love me. Being the child who saw things from a long-term viewpoint rather than just this-minute, I assumed this meant that I would never marry, since I would never be pretty, thanks to my extra serving of body curves. Or, if I married, it would be a man who was a widower, and needed help raising his children. No joke. That’s what I assumed.
Which is heartbreaking, looking back. I want to take young me, pick me up, cuddle me, and whisper truth into my younger ear. But I don’t get that chance.
All that to say, I’m pretty hyper-sensitive to body-image remarks by women (or men) about themselves and others. I’m also hyper-sensitive to comments that articles like the one I read make. They stick with me now.
There is a little toddler that I babysit fairly frequently. She’s absolutely adorable. Blue eyes, curly hair, and the happiest, brightest smile that is reminiscent of a buttercup (that’s a flower for any flower-ignorant people out there). She is toddler-gorgeous.
And while I tell her this fairly often (because I do think it’s necessary – girls NEED to hear they are pretty) I also make a point of complimenting her in other ways. The endearment I try to use most often is “Loved One” – because that is exactly what she is, by me, by those around her, and especially by her parents. And nothing can change that. And there is nothing she can do to earn more love – or to lose it (not saying that she can’t make loving her harder or easier, because that is possible).
And so, if the names we call children when they are very young CAN take root deep inside them and help show them how to see the world, the name Loved One hopefully shows her how very un-dependent others’ love for her is based on her looks, or intelligence, or achievements. In fact, others loving her, or her value, or her worth is dependent on nothing save her simply being her.
This hit me hard when I first started calling her Loved One – because I think that’s how it works with us and God. Our value, our worth, our identity, God loving us, is dependent on NOTHING we do. In fact, it’s simply because God made us, and we are who we are that gives us value, worth, identity, etc. I wish I had realized that as a young girl, and especially as a teenager.
You are loved by God and others around you simply because you are you – not because of what you do or how you look. Just keep bein’ you. It’s the best gift you can give the world.
(Assuming, of course, that you bein’ you is a you that is striving to become more like the you that God envisioned when He made you. I think that’s kinda incredibly important. Of course, you can’t do that either without Him and accepting His love for you.)
It is Easter in a few days. I love Easter. Perhaps that is because of all the fond memories I associate with this time of year: the hats and white gloves and orchid corsages and new dresses when I was a little girl, the egg hunts, the bunny-baskets full of candy, the family gatherings and good food.
As I’ve gotten older a few of those traditions have fallen to the wayside – like the hats and white gloves and orchid corsages. (I should’ve kept the hat one, but I don’t have time to find the perfect Easter hat these days).
But, I HAVE picked up a few other traditions along the way – like watching the movie Chocolat and making coconut macaroons. I love me some chocolate and coconut…and somehow those flavors work best together around this time of year. As for Chocolat, I love the reminder of grace and mercy that the movie subtly speaks of. For that is what this holiday is all about, is it not? Through Christ’s sacrifice, God extends us grace and mercy.
I think, often though, we get focused on simply Jesus’ death and resurrection. Which, don’t get me wrong, is a big deal. Without His death and resurrection, we would still be in an insecure state as to our relationship with God the Father. Because of sin, God could not interact with us humans in the way He originally had intended and desired. But, because of Jesus’ death, or more accurately, because of Jesus life and resurrection, God could.
And that’s where we stop. We forget to apply Easter to our lives. Because of Easter we are covered by Jesus’ blood. Because of Easter, our sins no longer interfere with our relationship with God. Because of Easter, God’s grace and mercy extend over, around, through, and under us. We are accepted. He loves us (not that He didn’t before). Because of Easter, you don’t have to be perfect, or even mostly good. Jesus’ blood covers all the gunk in your life, so you don’t have to sit there, covered in it, and focus on it. You no longer have any need to be reminded of the gunk and sin, you can get up and walk away from it. God will clean that up; God will clean YOU up. Sure, He’ll ask for your help, but He’ll do it. You don’t (you CAN’T) do it on your own. And THAT is what Easter is about: Jesus taking on the responsibility of cleaning up your mess. (Now…if only He would clean up my chocolate-and-coconut-covered kitchen….)
You are free, my friend. Because of Easter, you are free indeed. Now, go and live as if that were true. And treat others as if that were true as well. Because it is. But most Christians forget that. We have to live our life a certain way, maintain a Christian Culture standard, and if you don’t…well then… But that’s NOT why Jesus died. He died so that all might come and hang out with Him – no matter their past sins. I think so often we forget that when Jesus was on Earth, He hung out with the low-lifes, those no one else wanted to associate with because they were the misfits, the thieves, the prostitutes, the betrayers, the less-than-smart, the unclean, the social definitely not accepted. And He invited them to be His friends, to be part of His earthly story. Which means there is hope for each and every one of us. That He’s inviting you to come and sit at His table.
Now, don’t get me wrong. There will be a price to pay. While Christian Culture turns its back on those who aren’t clean enough, or say the wrong things, or do the wrong things, Secular Culture does the same to Christians. But, if you are willing to deal with that, if you are willing to accept what Jesus did for you – and live in that freedom (and I’m not talking about the rule book that many in Christian Culture say you must live by), than this day – Easter, is truly a life-changing day worth celebrating!
He is Risen!
He is Risen indeed! (Now, go LIVE that way!)
It started out as a feeling, which grew into a hope, which then turned into a quiet thought, which then turned into a quiet word, and then that word grew louder and louder until it was a battle cry.
– “The Call” Regina Spektor
Sitting in the movie theater, my eyes adjusting to the lights that had just come up at the end of the movie, I knew I loved the credit song. It didn’t hurt that it was sung by one of my favorite song artists, but I would have loved the song if it had been sung by someone else. I loved the words and the instrumentation. It was gorgeous. Breath-taking. Magical. And the lyrics of the chorus haunted me, hit me deeply, because I knew they were true.
Our thoughts are incredibly important. They lead to actions. And, apparently, actions are the fruit, or product of our hearts. But if actions are the product / fruit of our hearts, than our thoughts, are the food of our hearts.
We have many sources for our thoughts – life itself, school, movies, music, friends, parents, T.V., the list goes on.
But it is the thoughts themselves that are our heart’s food. It is our choice to focus our thoughts on what we want (or don’t want) from those movies and music. What you choose to think about from the conversations you have throughout the day, from the subjects in school you’re learning, from the TV shows you watch and the songs you listen to, affects you.
It’s kinda like a dinner buffet. At a buffet, you have many options of food to eat. And you get to choose what you want to eat, or not eat. You can choose from spaghetti or lasagna or some sketchy-looking Chinese meal, the salad, or the roast beef. Well, the world is the same way with our thoughts. You have the choice to think about stuff from movie last night, or from the book you’re (supposed to be) reading for Language, or from the conversation you had with your friend, or from the song that’s overplayed right now on the radio. It’s your choice.
But here’s the thing, just like if you chose healthy food to put in your body your body functions more along the lines of its originally intended plan, so your heart functions in a healthier manner if you feed it healthy “food”, or thoughts.
From your thoughts grow actions. Which might be why Jesus goes all strict-bun-in-a-tight-bun-steel-rimmed-glasses-ancient substitute teacher on people in Matthew. He’s rather tough when it comes to such things. He says it’s just as bad to lust after someone as to actually have sex with them. It’s just as bad to hate someone as to actually murder them.
Maybe because if you continue to think those thoughts of lust or anger, they grow, and then …there’s a chance, should you be given the opportunity … you’ll ACT out of those thoughts. And even if you don’t actually ever murder someone, or sleep with a man who’s not your husband, or say one nasty comment to your mother, those thoughts are still causing you to treat the people around you in ways that are not honoring to God, or honoring the fact that they were made in His image.
And God’s a pretty big stickler when it comes to how we treat each other. He highly stresses treating each other with love and respect. It’s a huge deal. Love God and love your neighbor. It’s incredibly important to Him – in fact, that’s how the world is supposed to know we love God – by our obedience to Him (which causes us to live differently than the rest of the world) and by how we treat others. And if your thoughts aren’t reflective of that, your actions (and words and facial expressions) won’t be either.
So, be careful what you allow your thoughts to dwell on, what you focus on. Your thoughts feed your heart. And out of your heart spring actions. Your thoughts have a great deal of power over how you treat others, so be careful what you think.
As I’ve gotten older a few of those traditions have fallen to the wayside – like the hats and white gloves and orchid corsages. (I should’ve kept the hat one, but I don’t have time to find the perfect Easter hat these days).
As for Chocolat, I love the reminder of grace and mercy that the movie subtly speaks of. For that is what this holiday is all about, is it not? Through Christ’s sacrifice, God extends us grace and mercy.
And that’s where we stop. We forget to apply Easter to our lives. Because of Easter we are covered by Jesus’ blood. Because of Easter, our sins no longer interfere with our relationship with God. Because of Easter, God’s grace and mercy extend over, around, through, and under us. We are accepted. He loves us (not that He didn’t before). Because of Easter, you don’t have to be perfect, or even mostly good. Jesus’ blood covers all the gunk in your life, so you don’t have to sit there, covered in it, and focus on it. You no longer have any need to be reminded of the gunk and sin, you can get up and walk away from it. God will clean that up; God will clean YOU up. Sure, He’ll ask for your help, but He’ll do it. You don’t (you CAN’T) do it on your own. And THAT is what Easter is about: Jesus taking on the responsibility of cleaning up your mess. (Now…if only He would clean up my chocolate-and-coconut-covered kitchen….)
In His Chrysalis 