Why Time With God is A Very Fluid Concept Right Now

This morning, I was going to turn over a new leaf. Or rather, a dry brittle leaf that's been turned over more times than Jack & Jill would have had the hill they fell down been Mt. Washington itself.  I was going to start my day with God. You know, that glorious idea of a "Morning Devotional," or "Quiet Time?" I woke at 7:20am with visions of a breakfast date with Jesus. Here's what it was going to look like:

I was going to get up, greet my family members and pray with David before he left for work. Then I was going to make myself my standard espresso with chocolate caramel creamer and for a special treat, a grilled blueberry bagel with cinnamon neufchatel. Playing my Cool Praise station on Pandora, I was going to finally get around to starting a devotional journal by Luci Swindoll that has sat on my shelf for long enough for me to forget when I received it but short enough I still remember who gave it to me. I was going to cuddle up on the couch with Christ and start my day right, for once in my life thank you very much.

Here's how it really went down:

I get up, greet my family members and pray with David before he leaves for work. I find the book I want and crank up the praise. Then we realize our godson, Landon, is about to walk or drive by on his way to his very first day of Kindergarten. This is far too big a momentous occasion to sit idly back and miss it! Quickly we make a sign, "GO LANDON," and run outside to cheer him on. (I realize now, our sign could have been taken a couple different ways, but luckily I don't think his teacher will get to hidden meanings and innuendos on day one of English.) As he and his mom walk by, Vivi and I cheer and wave and I fight back the tears because I am the emotional equivalent to maple syrup.

Back inside. Forty minutes have passed since my feet first touched the floor. But I still have hope. I can DO this!

To the kitchen to make breakfast. While waiting for my espresso and bagel to be ready I multitask and fill the dishwasher and get it going. When I go to grab one of my adorable French espresso cups, I drop the matching spoon. I spend five minutes on searching for the pieces, which I am hoping I can superglue together, but later. Instead I must find a "safe" place to put them where they won't get lost or cut someone. The music stand of the piano looks a likely candidate.

Ahhh. Finally, I sit down on the couch, anxious to inspect the underside of that Quiet Time Leaf once again. But as it turns out, Bo needs some attention. His endearing method of communicating that looks something akin to a gigantic fruit fly buzzing around my lap, my head, and of course my book. Being the Super Spiritual Mom that I am, I of course yell at him that "I am trying to have my time with God right now, please stop!!!" 

T + 90 minutes since blast off. Back to my book. I've managed to skim one whole page and almost answer an entire question when the phone rings. It's my friend needing last-minute childcare because their sitter was a no-show. "Of course you can bring them over, " I promise as I stumble to my feet and begin a mad dash up the stairs to my bedroom to find something clean and decent to wear, as getting dressed was supposed to happen AFTER my quiet time. Then I race to the kitchen and dining room to make sure the spaces most prone to being very UN-kid-friendly are a smidge more child-proof - knives put away-check, milk back in the fridge-check, cabinets closed-check, tempting treats out of reach-check. Even though Meme still needs her morning pills, I figure I better wait until after the children arrive or I might make the mistake of being in her bedroom when I should be at the door, death grip on our dog's collar as 5 children file in. So instead I sit back down to "enjoy" a chorus of "Hosanna" while I scarf down the remainder of my now-cold espresso and dried out bagel. As my last bites pass my lips the phone rings, but when I go to find the phone I see the family has arrived, so I let it go to voice mail.

*         *         *

In the midst of the last 3 hours I have managed to sneak in moments of typing this up in between at least a half-dozen phone calls, a visit and cup of tea with a friend, addressing a boo-boo, reading a book, doing a puzzle, getting seven snacks, policing the dog away from the children countless times, administering medication to my mother-in-law, helping a 3 year old go potty, and making lunch.

It's 12:30. I'd say I am going to attempt a lunch date with Jesus, but reality has lowered my expectations somewhat. If Jesus wants to hang with me today, he better be wearing running shoes.

Adieu Until Next Season

It is my hope that you all enjoyed In the Midst of Chaos (at least, vicariously through my postings), and once again, I would highly recommend the book to anyone. It was a fascinating read, and there was tons in it that obviously I could not include in my postings. FYI, I will be taking a hiatus from my regular contributions to the blog from this point forward until the beginning of Fall, but in the meantime you will have an opportunity to contribute to the blog yourself which I look forward to (more details below). The summer also means more casual Friday gatherings that are usually held outside either at a park, beach or backyard when the weather is nice (BYOB & snacks). And as in the past, sometimes our outings turn into field trips such as pick-your-own-fruit at a farm. We will only ask for hosts on Fridays marked by iffy weather.

Last week we met and discussed what we as a group would do for the summer months and came up with the idea of choosing a book to read together. This would be completely voluntary, and whether you choose to participate in reading with us or not, it will not affect the group’s weekly meetings in any way. The idea is for us to read a book of the group’s choosing and then have the blog available to those who wish to post their own thoughts, questions, comments, etc. on the book. (If you would like to participate and are not yet a designated author to the blog, please email me and I will send an invite for you to be an author so you can easily post your own entries.) We will discuss ideas for reading material tomorrow ...

Thank you to everyone for their contributions and comments throughout this series. I've enjoyed discussing not only this book I've blogged about but also our many discussion topics this year. You all are an inspiration to me, and I consider myself blessed to be surrounded by a community of wise and godly women. Looking forward to having fun with you throughout the summer and to a new season starting up again in the Fall. God bless!

Blessing and Letting Go, Part III & End of In the Midst of Chaos

As one more school year winds to a close and another summer begins, we look forward to having fun in the sun, spending more time together as a family, feeling a bit more carefree, maybe even going on vacation. But blink and summer will be at an end and a new school year will start; our children will be in the next grade up or maybe just starting school for the first time; some may have children taking off for college; some may be expecting another addition to their family. All of these examples are lessons in blessing and letting go – even the act of giving birth is essentially letting go of our newest child as they enter the world separate from our bodies’ protection for the first time.

A paragraph from this last chapter makes particular note of the author’s goal in writing about practices of faith and specifically about the practice of blessing, and I’d like to include it here:

One big problem with any book on spirituality is that there is hardly any way to read along and not feel as if you were just assigned one more thing to do. Almost invariably, we see the advice as a blueprint for what we must do to earn our way into the spiritual elite, the inner circle of spirituality of those who are calm and prayerful. In this chapter, I would like to make one more attempt to dispel this myth.

The phrase “in the midst of chaos” itself suggests that our efforts to practice our faith usually take place amid conditions we don’t really control. Parenting constantly brings us to relinquishment, of self and ideals and dreams, of the other person, the infant, soon to be a child, soon to be an older child, soon to be a youth, soon to be a young adult. Just when I thought I had it down in those early weeks and months of parenting, my child would up and change. Damn. (A far cry from “God bless it,” I’m afraid.) Of course, those early changes were just the beginning.

We parents are always coming up against our limits – limits that come in all shapes and sizes. The first and often hidden step in the practice of blessing and letting go is to recognize this.

The whole of this book has been to show us the small but significant things we can do and probably already do in our daily life in practicing our faith as parents. It’s an encouragement in knowing that just by playing with our kids, reading to them, conversing with them, pondering on them, blessing them and taking the ordinary moments of daily life with them and making them sacred, we are practicing our Christian faith. …care of children as a spiritual practice demands that we ask how parenthood and the shape of family life make us and our children better persons in the world as a whole. [Letting go is a practice which] reminds us that we are not finally in control, that we are limited and finite. Ultimately, we are called to release our children in lament and joy. We turn them over to others and the rest of the world in trust, and we give them back to God in love.

We adopt specific faith practices for God’s sake and in response to God’s love, and not for the “sake of a preferred way of life,” as theologian Miroslav Volf puts it. We adopt them because they connect us, enliven us, and move us to experience God.

I hope this book and specifically this series of posts has been a blessing to you and has allowed you to be encouraged in your walk as a parent and as a child of God. None of these practices would come so naturally without the Holy Spirit working in us, but loving our children is natural, and that love gives us a small glimpse into the love our Father has for us. God bless!

Love,
Crystal

All green text comes from Chapter 9 of In the Midst of Chaos by Bonnie J. Miller-McLemore

Blessing and Letting Go, Part II

Our children will eventually leave us and after the many years of mutual blessings imparted and received, the next step is much tougher – blessing their departure. Many good and wonderful parents who have blessed their children’s comings and goings throughout their childhood (and are used to their children always coming back), falter at this step. But letting go of them is crucial to their maturity as well as ours. Letting go of children goes against the grain of human self-preservation. It is hard because we have to let go of part of ourselves – a very precious part of ourselves, at that – that we have incorporated into ourselves in loving the other. Letting go requires trust that we - and they - are preserved and upheld by a force greater than our own efforts.

We have all heard versions of the ancient Chinese proverb, “If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours. If it doesn’t, it never was blah, blah, blah…” But there is truth in this saying when it comes to parenting and those apron strings we have such a good grip on right now. Parents must find the balance of hopeful care somewhere between neglect and overbearing control, both of which interfere with a child’s growth.

“This ancient Chinese proverb articulates a powerful truth about the importance of letting go. It had a profound effect on me when I first heard it, and it has guided me in both my private and professional life ever since. I have often quoted it as an excellent model for parenthood, which is a gradual, wonderful - and sometimes painful - process of letting go. It begins with the cutting of the umbilical cord and ends when you hand over the keys of your car. They will fly the nest, but if you freely and willingly let them go then they will always come back.”₁

The author includes a poem by Mary Oliver called “In Blackwater Woods.” I’d like to include the ending here:

Every year
everything
I have ever learned

in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side

is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world

you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it

against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the times comes to let it go,
to let it go.

When the time comes for my children to leave my nest, I’m hoping God will give me the wisdom, strength and maturity to let them go. And before I end up like a 4-year-old weeping over the severed apron strings (but being on the other side this time – after all, those strings come from my apron!), I can take comfort in the promises given by God:

I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. (John 10:10b)

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade—kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God's power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. (I Peter 1:3-6)

I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed. (Romans 8:18-19)

For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:17-18)

Blessed are you who hunger now, for you shall be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh. (Luke 6:21)

Blessings,
Crystal

1. Quote by Alison Willcocks found at http://www.globalideasbank.org/Tips/TipJan27.htm

All green text comes from Chapter 9 of In the Midst of Chaos by Bonnie J. Miller-McLemore

Blessing and Letting Go, Part I

“Lord God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown. Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us. Through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.”₁

As Lauryn nears the end of her high school career and the beginning of the rest of her life, the more dread and panic creep into my heart. It will soon be my turn to experience separation anxiety, a feeling I have not known since about age 4. As our children grow up, we know they will all eventually leave our nest, but we don’t like to dwell too much on that fact. Most of us as parents of very young children have the luxury of quickly dismissing these thoughts since that reality will not be most of ours for quite some time. But with a teenager halfway through high school, it is far too quickly becoming my reality.

Parents “inevitably begin losing their children as soon as they are born…”₁

This anxiety hits each one of us though along the journey of parenthood – when our child takes his first step (away from us), when she boards the school bus for the first time, when he has his first sleepover away from home, when she goes out on her first date – all of these milestones remind us of the speed of life and how short the time we have our children to ourselves. The author calls this “mundane grief.” The whole subject of “mundane grief” – the daily nontragic grief so rooted in family life- is remarkably absent from most discussions of loss, as well as from discussions of the family. It is not a coincidence, then, that one of the most overlooked daily practices of faith in families is the practice of blessing and letting go of the other person and your own lament and sorrow. The problem is you can’t just up and bless someone you love out of the blue. Blessing commits us to a way of being with one another and comes with some very sticky strings attached: the strings of attachment, separation, loss, and failure. To get to blessing, you have to go through (or maybe it’s best to say “muck around in”) its component parts. You have to acknowledge life’s limits. You have to offer and receive forgiveness as a step toward receiving and bestowing blessing. Finally, you have to let go in trust.

The author mentions the story of Jesus as a 12-year-old teaching in the temple as his parents search for him for three days. In one translation, Mary, who speaks so few words in the scriptural canon, exclaims, “Behold, your father and I have been looking for you in anguish,”… Mary and Joseph searched for three whole days – an almost unfathomable amount of time compared to parents nowadays who become hysterical when a child fails to show up at an appointed time and place. In essence, we are not all that different from Mary, the mother of God, who, as Gaventa₂ notes, contends with a child that is “profoundly hers and yet not hers at all.”

In blessing, we find reprieve and release. We step under the wide umbrella of God’s grace.

According to dictionary.com, certain definitions of bless include “to request of God the bestowal of divine favor on”, “to bestow good of any kind upon” and “to protect and guard from evil.” As our children grow and we repeat the phrases common in everyday life – “Have a good day”, “God bless”, “Goodbye”, “Love you” – we bless our loved ones. A hug, a touch, a kiss, a tear. These are all blessings we give all the time, marking our gratitude and care and granting peace and goodwill as our loved ones come and go. Blessings are also gestures that speak when words don’t… These small words and movements can feel so inadequate, so utterly mundane that we don’t even notice them. Yet they actually have great importance, and it can be helpful to recognize them for what they are. They are the blessings we bestow daily, coming and going, gracing others with our love, assuring them of our continued presence, and turning them over in trust to God and the wider world. Blessing is not an easy practice, nor is it one that calls attention to itself. But it is a trust-filled, hope-filled, love-filled practice at the core of Christian faith.

Blessings abound in Scripture, New and Old Testament alike. Some are given without much fanfare, others are wrestled over (Jacob w/the angel), lied for (Esau’s stolen birthright), create controversy (disciples shooing away the little children) and descend as a dove upon the receiver (Jesus’ baptism). Our society may not accord blessing the same status and power it assumed in Jacob and Esau’s time. But we underestimate its importance at our own risk and loss.

The practice of blessing, like a good benediction, declares our willingness to live joyously and gratefully within finite existence and to set our loves ones free to do the same.

We will continue with the subject of letting go next...

Blessings,

Crystal

_1. A favorite closing benediction of the author she heard given at a family retreat village.

₂. Quote from historian Anne Higonnet from Chapter 9 of In the Midst of Chaos

3. In reference to biblical theologian Beverly Roberts Gaventa mentioned in this chapter.

All green text comes from Chapter 9 of In the Midst of Chaos by Bonnie J. Miller-McLemore

Take, Read: From Seuss to Scripture - Part II

When our children first learn how to read, a whole new world opens up to them. Reading is about expanding one’s horizons. We are going through this process right now as Jayce is slowly mastering the sounds and way words are put together. Yesterday when he started reading to me, you could see the spark of excitement in the knowledge of this new power of which he was taking hold. His horizons are definitely expanding right now. And with this new power comes a safe yet challenging place – a sanctioned place for fantasy and imagination to acquire the ability to make moral and spiritual choices later in life. He will be able to “transcend the artificial boundaries of race, gender, class, and things.” He will “learn from the wisdom and joys and mistakes of others.” The practice of reading shapes us morally and intellectually. We master certain ideas, broach new values, and stretch our minds and hearts.

Most of you know I love books and am an avid reader though one of my favorite quotes by Einstein gives us some cautionary instruction on the subject: Reading, after a certain age, diverts the mind too much from its creative pursuits. Any man who reads too much and uses his own brain too little falls into lazy habits of thinking. Certain books as “brain candy” aside, I can see where using any books too much as an escape from the reality and adventure of living can be fruitless and even dangerous. Done right however, reading can reap enormous benefits in our lives mentally, emotionally and spiritually. With the “right books” and a “fruitful method”, [St.] Augustine was convinced, “truth could be found."

Reading aloud, reading silently, reading together, reading alone, meditation on words, meditating on the Word, listening for the Word among all the words – all of these deeply spiritual practices immensely enrich our daily life. If words are important, and if the Gospel of John pictures God’s own beginning as “Word” (the “Word of God”; John 1:1), then not surprisingly reading and its companion practices of writing and telling stories – the art of seeing and composing a life through words – have rich potential for faith. Christians are “people of the Word.”

If, after all this, you’re not sure of your own feelings about the written word, I’ve come up with some pretty good indicators (in a Jeff Foxworthy-style manner) as to whether you are a lover of books.

You just might be a book lover if…

…walking through a book shop is considered “Me” time.

…upon receiving a new book, you crack it open to smell the “fresh”, new book smell.

…you're sleep deprived because you just can’t put it down.

…80% of your wish list for Christmas or birthday is books.

…you enter a library as if it were a sanctuary.

…you’ve put Amazon.com as an icon on your desktop.

…you consider the printed word more precious than gold...and therefore spend much "gold" on the printed word.

…you recognize the act of picking up a book in some way feeds your soul.

…you have a pile of books by your bedside your are currently reading – all at the same time.

…you have more books than bookshelves.

So we read for pleasure. We read to learn, grow, experience new worlds, and connect to others. Ultimately we also read out of a fundamental spiritual need. We seek meaning and answers to profound questions of existence.

Just as food determines the state and shape of one’s body, books can form the soul. Reading, like eating, provides essential nourishment and communion. We cannot live without eating. We cannot live fully without reading. Take, eat. Take, read. Reading is this elementary, this basic to life and faith.

So if your main courses comprise of Scripture, nonfiction and "educational" books, your snacks of miscellany and your desserts of fiction, it sounds to me like you're a pretty healthy reader. Whatever it may be, enjoy your next read!

All green text comes from Chapter 8 of In the Midst of Chaos by Bonnie J. Miller-McLemore.

Take, Read: From Seuss to Scripture - Part I

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” ~ John 1:1

Words have a certain power, whether spoken or written. The Bible is the greatest example of the power of the Word, however many books over the centuries have instructed us, influenced us and captured our imagination. One must have a certain appreciation for books whether one is an avid book reader or not or whether the last book read was Goodnight, Moon or something written by C.S. Lewis. We cannot take lightly the privilege of being literate when the majority of the world’s population since the beginning of time has not been. And in this day and age with libraries, bookstores and the internet, we have the world and its knowledge at our fingertips.

If we go back several centuries, suggests Steve Jones, a communications professor, we find that “people were enormously suspicious about the printed word. Somebody’s words, written down and distributed on a mass scale, were thought to be dangerous.” There must still be anxiety about the disruptive danger of reading, or books wouldn’t continue to be banned from schools and burned by political regimes. Books arouse us, challenge accepted ideas, and stimulate new ones.*

Many of the stories that first captured our heart and imagination were read to us while sitting on our mother’s or father’s lap. We probably all have our favorite children’s books we still remember and treasure and have possibly even carried on the tradition by reading them to our own children. For many of us, our lives take shape, as another author says “under the curve” of a parent’s arm or surrounded by the “calm caress” of a parent’s reading voice.

Having children rewards an adult with the privilege of reading just for fun. It gives us permission to read children’s books, read aloud, and read with a warm body or two or three pressed close. Children are a gift. Books are a gift. Engaging both can be an immense pleasure in life.

But reading for pleasure and capturing our imagination is one thing. Can we truly enhance our spiritual life simply by reading? What does Dr. Seuss have to do with Scripture anyway? For young children, a story is true not because it is factual, says theologian Ann Thurston, but because it “connects with their own experience.” Children who recognize such imaginative truth are especially open to the “myth and poetry and truth of the biblical stories.” She likens story to both play and liturgy. So there is a benefit to opening up fantastical and imaginative worlds through stories for children. Maybe that’s why the lore of Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy still persist, and most of us are ok with that (though some have decided to use alternative methods to teach similar messages). Several centuries ago the father of eastern orthodoxy, John Chrysostom, ranked storytelling high on his list of ways to nurture children in a Christian “pattern of life.” Stories from scripture are best, he says, but he also encourages parents to use the heroes and marvels of pagan stories to stir a child’s imagination and prepare them for stories of faith. The author is quick to mention that though books need not be overtly religious to be valuable, reading as a practice of faith must include books that offer an alternative to some of the prominent stories of wider culture.

Seuss may seem to have written nonsensical stories that are simply for fun and pleasure (in fact, his first script was rejected 27 times for not having any purpose or moral to the story) however through his many books, there is an undercurrent of morality without being preachy. “Without being a moralist, “ assents Anderson, Seuss “managed to provoke the moral imagination of children ‘who have ears to hear.’”

Books bring us into deeper moral and intellectual relationship with ourselves, others, our world, and God.

* italics mine

All text in green comes from Chapter 8 of In the Midst of Chaos by Bonnie J. Miller-McLemore

Playing the Field, Part II

Playing is itself a therapy. ~ D.W. Winnicott

Play is extremely important to child and adult alike. Winnicott describes health as “a state of being able to play”. Illness is “not being able to play.” Play therapy is used around the world to help many children (and adults as well) move through difficult issues in their lives emotionally and mentally as well as being used to help those with physical handicaps.

Play can also bring us to the edges of life. There is often a fine line between playful connection and destructive aggression, as there is between laughter and ridicule, sport and torment, or competition and combat. Kids and adults often use creative play and games to simulate a cosmic struggle between good and bad or life and death. Play exposes us to failure, loss, finitude, and destruction without serious risk.

Adults think that by becoming a man, we are to put away childish things.* However, play is just as therapeutic and joyful for adults as it is for children. Think about the last time you ran, jumped, swam, rode a bike, laughed until your sides hurt. Adulthood and age can inhibit play. Adulthood by definition involves growing up, out, and weary of play. Adults outgrow some of the best kinds of play, in much the same way that our capacity for wonder fades, as part of living longer and growing older, assuming responsibility for others, or maybe as part of human fallenness itself. But then along comes a child, not simply reminding us but inviting us to play. In other words, playing draws us into creation, heals, and resurrects. It re-creates.

When we truly enter into a game, we lose our usual self-consciousness.

The author goes on to write about how play can be “abused”. Once play is controlled by an adult or structured for the sole purpose of promoting the success of our child, it becomes work and you lose out on the benefits of free-flowing, creative play. Distorted motives, especially promotion of one’s own kid and oneself through a child, distort play and prevent play from serving any positive role in fostering joy, freedom, or faith. This kind of “play” takes a lot of time and energy and drains life from you and your family rather than recharging you/your family and fulfilling the basic play needs of your child. Think about those families where each member has two or three clubs/organizations/teams that they participate in, and yet no one feels like a member of the Family as a team anymore. As there are different forms of play, we need to be careful about which kinds we encourage. Revitalizing play as a practice of faith today calls for a steady and demanding discernment, moderation, proactivity, and repentance. These four steps constitute the recovery and transformation of play as a focal practice of faith. The author goes on to say the wrong kind of play can have a negative impact and we need to find appropriate uses of many forms of play. We must proactively and conscientiously pursue alternative forms of play that shape a richer household ecology and work against those that breed isolation, self-centeredness, and violence. Ultimately, we must repent and acknowledge our tendency toward perverting the best qualities of play, whether in response to social pressure or as a result of our own brokenness.

Play as a faith practice involves the whole person in body, mind and spirit; it brings meaningful connection to nature and other persons; it allows us to confront life’s limits and failures; and it offers a glimpse of grace. In its unique power to create, re-create, and resurrect, play embodies essential facets of God’s relationship to the world and of our relationships with God and each other.

Play recharges our batteries emotionally and refreshes us spiritually. So how many reasons do you need to make time for play? Go ahead and have some fun!

Crystal

_{All green text comes from Chapter 7 from In the Midst of Chaos by Bonnie J. Miller-McLemore.}

* Taken from Paul’s verse in I Corinthians 13:11 – “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.”

Playing the Field, Part I

All life begins with play.

There are times as parents when we spy the sacred in our ordinary living. You know what I’m talking about – those moments when all of a sudden it hits you that this moment is a holy moment. Many of those moments may come when your child is finally asleep and looking like an angel when you know they’ve acted quite the opposite all day, but many moments seem to come when your child is in the midst of play. And whether you are actively playing with them or simply watching them play, you become aware of holiness in your midst – how blessed you are, how beautiful your child is, how joyful you/your child is at the moment, etc. In fact, play is in it’s essence joyful, is it not? But have you ever thought of play as holy or spiritual?

Play involves immense pleasure, even joy, of a holistic sort. Mind, body, spirit – all are engaged together. Sometimes play results in the visible, tangible sensations of a smile, laughter, muscle ache, or cleansing breath. Play has rich interpersonal and intergenerational potential, connecting us deeply to others, and is wonderful when done together in a communal or cooperative context. But play also involves activity done by oneself. One must be able to play well alone in order to play well with others. Play sparks and fuels imagination and creativity. It suspends reality but doesn’t supersede it. It can transform reality. It involves an attitude of delight and enjoyment – an embodiment of joy – as much as specific activity. In fact, any playful act can become work if the pleasure dissipates. Everyone should have equal access to play, regardless of talent, wealth, or the right outfit. Genuine play does not harm those playing or others around them.

Throughout history, play has been denounced by many parents and pastors alike. Think back to what church services were like even with children involved – 3 hour long sermons with not a felt board in sight (!), Sundays where no fun activities were allowed (unless you considered reading and studying the Bible for a large portion of the day fun), and Sabbaths when corporal punishment was deemed appropriate if you became too silly. Not surprisingly, few theologians over the course of history have considered play a component of creation and a practice of faith. This is a shame, perhaps owing to the association of God with rest or stasis and play with forbidden sensual pleasure or indulgence and pampering.

Johan Huizinga sees play quite differently and more of a foundational element to adult society. We may all know and believe that play is a fundamental component of childhood, but we may not realize from that component has come “adult forms of law, politics, art and religion. Practices of faith, even the liturgy itself, exist in direct continuity with play.”

I began with the quote, “All life begins with play.” How many times have you witnessed an adult (it could be a complete stranger) come near your child with the main objective of getting them to smile? Our first true interactions with our child are forms of play – making silly faces, singing songs and bouncing them, waving rattles in their face. The play of early eye contact between parent and infant creates a trustworthy world for both participants. This playful ritual actually enhances our potential to experience religious transcendence later in life and shapes our images of God.

Scripture also envisions play and child play in transformative roles at the beginning and end of time. In hymns of creation, the Psalmist pictures God as a God of play, a God who laughs, plays, and cavorts, not just a God of "rest."

Is it possible that Jesus himself welcomed children precisely because they play? Doesn't the imperative to "become like children" (Matthew 18:3) have something essential to do with prizing playfulness as a part of rejoicing in God's love? With children in play, we practice the freedom of the Garden and the laughter of resurrection, imaginatively resisting the powers that seek to define, capture, and destroy us.

More to come on the subject of play next week...

Crystal

All green text comes from Chapter 7 in In the Midst of Chaos by Bonnie J. Miller-McLemore.

Doing Justice and Walking Humbly with Kids, Part II

It is within the family that we first come to have that sense of ourselves and our relations with others that is at the root of moral development.₁

Love of those within our own family and care for the neighbors beyond the household are not mutually exclusive. There is an intricate connection between home and world, love of one’s own children and care of all God’s children. They are potentially complimentary and mutually enriching.

Does this mean we always have the time, money and resources to involve ourselves in public ministry? Maybe our heart is with foster children but circumstances don’t allow us to take in any kids. Maybe we are touched by the plight of the homeless, addicts, prostitutes, etc. Maybe we dream of rocking neglected babies in an orphanage far away and too expensive to travel to. But care of our own children can open our eyes to all other children as well.

The author outlines the following four ways to actualize love of other kids through love of one’s own kids:

1. we love our kids to learn how to love other kids
   
2. we love our kids for the sake of a better world
   
3. we teach our kids to care for others and to work for social justice
4. we model just love within our family₂
   

How then do parents work for peace and justice at home and in the larger world? The answer is at once simple and complicated: involve children every step of the way. (italics mine)

Practical suggestions in learning justice can be through daily conversations with your children, decisions about the use and placement of TV’s, video games, etc., and learning how to respect all those within the family. Are these small, daily efforts to do justice gestures in the night? I hope not. It’s hard to know for sure. But affirming mundane, routine conversation as a small act of doing justice essential to the faith life of the family is certainly a step in the right direction in a culture where spiritual often means inner peace, personal enrichment, and escape from the world’s injustices. Attending to these small acts with children has certainly intensified our own awareness about how intricately matters of justice infiltrate our lives and shape daily living.

One does justice even in the presence of the powerful passions felt toward one’s children by teaching, learning about, and indeed struggling over justice with them. Adults raise their own social awareness as they strive to raise socially aware children. In this practice, they turn the private task of raising children into an important public ministry.

The author also brings up the practice of serving others, namely one’s own family, by participating in daily chores. …children also need daily exercise of the practice of loving others as they love themselves, and this means a family system in which their pitching in is also essential to the family’s functioning. Children need family duties… “not just because they will learn discipline by doing so, but because through this work they will understand that no one in the home exists just to serve them.”

“…children need a gradual, incremental transfer of power and responsibility for family welfare as appropriate to age and situation.”

So ask yourself: What are your expectations of your children? Do you expect too much or not enough from them? “Participation, responsibility and maturity” are fostered through appropriate familial duties.

So the family is, as one scholar argues, a “school for critical contribution to the social good.” But it is more than this. It is also a “school of justice” unto itself. That is, the family is a school of justice not merely as parents work with children to reach outward to those in need but in its own internal dynamics. Families teach justice by the very way they structure the work and love of daily life.

What does your “school of justice” look like? Parents can be great examples and models of justice by our acts of service to all those around us including family, friends and strangers as well as making sure the pathway of parenting is paved with communication. A simple thing such as talking which we do everyday with friends and family can become harder as our children mature, but we need to make sure we continue to open our mouth, ask questions and make the kind of decisions which will help lead our children in becoming leaders of justice in their own right.

Crystal

1. Political scientist Susan Moller Okin as quoted in In the Midst of Chaos

2. From the Study Guide of In the Midst of Chaos written by Mindy McGarrah

3. All green text comes from Chapter 6 of In the Midst of Chaos.

Doing Justice and Walking Humbly with Kids: Part I

What does God require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God? ~ Micah 6:8

Growing up, did you feel called to bring about some sort of social change and better the world? Were there social causes that you had a heart for and felt called to offer yourself? High school and college seem to be a fertile time for offering acts of service such as those you may have felt called to. Do you remember upon your graduation feeling the exhilaration of freedom, the heaviness of responsibility and the hopeful determination of going out into the world to make it a better place? You may have felt on top of the world and ready to change it so you went out and sought out the many opportunities to act on these “callings.” And then “first came love, then came marriage, then came baby in the baby carriage.” Now your acts of service consist of packing a shoebox for Angel Tree every Christmas and sending your donation to the ministry of your choice each month. You sigh because you want to do more, but your life is already so full of acts of service, you wonder how you could ever again make a difference in the world outside of your nuclear family. And then your children start to grow and you wonder how you’ll teach your children to go out and make a difference in the world.

Yet so often talk about spirituality in family life today ignores justice. We fail to recognize the family as the heart and soul of doing justice. It is the place where justice is first learned and practiced, and the place where we might begin to turn the world upside down. This is one of the most spiritually challenging and formative arenas for those who care for children.

How to be peacemakers both at home and in the larger world is quite a challenge. For almost twenty years we have wrestled with the challenge of integrating our family life and social ministry…. We have wanted…to be able to act for justice without sacrificing our children and to build family community without isolating ourselves from the world.₁

Care for our own children and care for others is not mutually exclusive. The author argues that by caring for our own children, we are essentially creating justice in the world. Caring well for one’s own children for the sake of the wider society, including raising them to love justice, can itself be an act of faith and public service. Contrary to modern assumptions, raising children is not merely a private matter of personal gratification far removed from the larger world. Children are in fact our closest, most vulnerable, and most valuable neighbors. Their neglect is a grave transgression. Their welfare is a rich benefit for all the other people they will deal with in their lives, and for society as a whole. This includes basic provision for children economically, materially, and beyond. No family stands alone in meeting this obligation, and families without sufficient means need our social and economic support. There are even times in a family’s normal life cycle that make outreach to other children difficult, but this need not negate the family as an arena of public service.

A “whole and healthy family is a service to this world,” says Presbyterian minister Marjorie Thompson. “The pastoral care that family members provide one another is the principle ministry of family life, preceding and undergirding all other forms of ministry.” Martin Luther even calls siblings our “first neighbors.” Sometimes they seem to be the very hardest neighbors to love well; perhaps for just this reason they are good ones to practice our loving on.”

The adult who engages in the Christian nurture of children is carrying out, as historian William H. Lazareth puts it, “a far better work in God’s sight than all the current pilgrimages, sacrifices, and cultic ceremonies combined.”

This by no means downplays the acts of service you may feel called to besides caring for your family – it simply highlights the amazing ministry each of us have just by being parents! On the flip side, Catholic ethicist Julie Hanlon Rubio states, “ Those who would serve God must resist the temptation to make caring for kin their only mission in life.” We have so isolated care of children as an almost exhaustively private concern of individual parents rather than an obligation shared by a wider circle of friends and community. Rather we should see our home with its family life as our mission base from which to work. Next week we will further explore how the lessons of justice can be integrated into our own homes.

Crystal

1. Quote by James and Kathleen McGinnis in Parenting for Peace and Justice

All green text comes from Chapter 6 of In the Midst of Chaos by Bonnie J. Miller-McLemore.

Who Cares for the Caregiver?

I would venture to guess that every single day, just by virtue of our role as parents, we accomplish many small, and at other times big, acts of self-sacrifice. Some days we may feel the sting of it, and other days we may feel the joys of it. But what happens when the sting of self-sacrifice becomes an everyday occurrence and we feel ourselves bogged down by feelings of self-disregard and neglect?

Not surprisingly, many parents, men and women alike, feel pushed out of their own lives. It’s not just about space either. Adults who care for children have a need for care themselves. They also have desires, loves and interests beyond their children. They must learn to live with relentless interruption (call teacher, buy soccer shoes, defrost meat, take kids to dentist). Figuring out just how to care for others yet still sustain oneself – in all the detail and broader ethical and spiritual consequences- has important faith-forming implications for adults and for the children for whom we care.

Maybe the airlines have caught the flavor of the Jewish and Christian mandate to love the other as oneself better than religious traditions have.

Should the cabin lose pressure, oxygen masks will drop from the overhead area. Please place the bag over your own mouth and nose before assisting children or others near you.

Sacrifice does not rule out self-love. In fact, parents should not be ashamed of the self-interest that accompanies their love. They do better to admit and even affirm the needs they harbor for pleasure and gratification. To acknowledge that we need to give love to our children and to receive their love as well is healthier for all concerned than disguising an offer of love as a “sacrifice” for which they should be grateful. Ultimately, any moment of self-disregard must rest on a bedrock of self-regard, respect, and mutual reliance.

So I would ask you as the author does, do you commit your daily sacrifices, whether for your children or spouse or others, willingly and by choice or is it by force? What’s your motivation – is it “by fear, or genuine love and faithfulness?” Does the sacrificial loss actually count as a gain in some deeper way and enrich life rather than destroy it? Does sacrifice, in essence, remain in service of a greater mutuality and abundant life? Does it lead to more just and loving relationships? Ultimately, do your sacrifices benefit the family as a whole including yourself? This does not mean that all sacrificial acts are joyful and rewarding for the one doing the sacrificing, however one must take into account the consequence of the sacrifice and see if it is beneficial in the long run. Do your sacrificial actions give life to your family unit or drain life from it? It is essential that your sacrifices in parenting (as well as all aspects of life) are shared by others such as your spouse, and that prayer remains your most well-used tool.

Crystal

P.S. This topic reminds me of a blog entry posted on 11/01/06 titled “J-O-Y”. Feel free to go back and read it to discover one vital way of sustaining ourselves. Also see “How to Avoid Mother Burn-Out” posted by Erin on 02/13/07.

All green script comes from Chapter 5 of In the Midst of Chaos by Bonnie J. Miller-McLemore.

Taking Kids Seriously

“Like all adults, children are created in God’s image. They have value as ends in themselves, not as objects of study or means to adult ends. They are, in essence, “gifts,” a phrase too easily reduced and cheapened in a market economy that has lost sight of the genuine nature of a gift.”

When we think of a child’s faith, we think of the embodiment of innocence, the child-like faith spoken of in Scriptures. How many artists’ renderings of children practicing their faith show them bathed in an ethereal glow of innocence and naiveté? For example, a picture of a little child kneeling by the side of the bed, hands clasped, eyes closed, reciting a bedtime prayer. There is nothing wrong with these visions per se, but these pictures "tempt us to see both children and faith as cute and sweet rather than thoughtful and challenging." Sometimes we are surprised by the words of truth from the mouths of babes, but more often our reaction is of how cute and endearing it all is and chalk it up to just another humorous moment to record in the baby book.

“At the age of three, the godchild of author and pastor Marjorie Thompson stopped what she was doing midstream to listen to a recording of Mozart that was playing in the background. Her parents noticed and asked if she knew who had written the music. “In a hushed and solemn tone,” Thompson reports, “the child responded, ‘God.’”

A Methodist pastor once told Thompson that his child came home from Sunday School to tell him, “God is bigger than our whole house and bigger than our whole yard.” The father responded, “Yes, that’s true.” Unable to resist a little adult theological correction, he added, “You know, God also lives in our hearts.” The child thought a moment and then asked, “If that’s true, then why aren’t our hearts bursting?”

Given our history, we are tempted to see these children and their stories as sweet and cute. But this assessment distorts their power. These children see something that adults have ceased to consider. They see through and behind our given reality to the heart of matters that adults have defined, categorized, mastered, and forgotten – the beauty of God’s music, the magnitude of God’s love. For “those who have ears to hear,” children often correct and edify us. They know more than we give them credit for knowing. Sometimes just attending to them can challenge and change us.”

The author challenges us to take kids seriously by taking their faith seriously. When we stop viewing our own adult faith as the better or more mature, we lose out on the learning opportunities Christ pointed out to us.

The people brought children to Jesus, hoping he might touch them. The disciples shooed them off. But Jesus was irate and let them know it: “Don’t push these children away. Don’t ever get between them and me. These children are at the very center of life in the kingdom. Mark this: Unless you accept God’s kingdom in the simplicity of a child, you’ll never get in,” Then, gathering the children up in his arms, he laid his hands of blessing on them. 2

“What is required now is not just a shift in our understanding of children. Rather, we must consider how our new regard for their complexity is expressed as we practice our faith within the daily rounds of family life. Taking children seriously entails not just what we believe or how we think about children; it also involves new ways of including them in the shared life of faith. Children are active agents and participants in the practices of faith, even if they bring their own perspectives, capacities, and insights. Now we must figure out what this means for our lives together.”

When we deny or suppress the value of our children’s faith and/or the faith of our own inner child, we do a great disservice to the Christian faith not only in our own lives but also as a whole. Sometimes growing up does not always mean growing wiser.

“…children’s wisdom - their proclivity for attention, sensitivity, pondering, and wonder - is not just what they know and say but how they live and embody their knowledge in daily life.”

Childhood has value that adult faith cannot surpass.

The author talks about making space for children and their faith by being active listeners without having our own agenda, as well as encouraging them in their expressions of faith as they grow. Asking questions, remaining open to their thoughts and ideas, offering honest thoughts of our own as well as admitting when you don’t know something are all ways in which we can allow our children to feel comfortable in their faith and grow (as well as our own faith growing from the shared experiences and conversations).

“If adults diminish children as active participants in religious practice, we both reduce the vitality of our own life of faith and overlook the human complexity children already possess. If we want to experience the daily care of children as a spiritual practice, then we must take kids and their faith seriously. Taking children seriously – as created in God’s image, as sinful, as agent, as gift and as task – has the potential to enrich the lives we share, in faith, with children.”

Crystal

1. All words in green are straight from the fourth chapter of In the Midst of Chaos by Bonnie J. Miller-McLemore
2. Mark 10:14 paraphrased in The Message by Eugene H. Peterson

Pondering All These Things

“So [the shepherds] hurried off and found Mary and Joseph and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.”₁

“When his parents saw him, they were astonished. His mother said to him, ‘Son, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you.’ ‘Why were you searching for me?’ he asked. ‘Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?’ But they did not understand what he was saying to them. Then he went down to Nazareth with them and was obedient to them. But his mother treasured all these things in her heart.”₂

In the Christmas story, we find that Mary pondered all the happenings during Christ’s birth and stored them in her heart. Many years later, once again, we find her pondering during Jesus’ pre-teen years. It seems there are no two better times to reflect on life than at the birth of and at the beginning of those hormonal pre-teen years of your child’s life! Yet at both these times, more than others it seems, chaos is ever-present. So why ponder?

Dictionary.com defines ponder as, “to consider something deeply and thoroughly; meditate or to weigh carefully in the mind; consider thoughtfully.”

While pondering can conjure up images of quiet stillness or contemplative space, it is more of a recognizing those “Aha! moments” in the ordinariness of life. To recognize these moments takes a certain amount of focus and attending to. This attention can come naturally at times and also become a discipline to practice.

We will be more disposed toward moments of extraordinary awe if we have been attending all along to wonder and awe in the ordinary. ~Herbert Anderson

“Attending all along.” Here, I think, is an active way of being that supports all the practices of faith and that is integral to good parenting. Yet so often we parents neglect this. On our way to pray, on our way to church, on our way to all the other places where we think God abides, we pass by the ordinary awe much too quickly. But greater openness and attentiveness, often sparked by caring for children, can come through the practice I call “pondering.”

Small children in particular are no strangers to awe, of course, but kids of all ages invite us into this experience. Attending all along to children means we adults are also permitted to see the truly awesome – not only to wonder at them, as fond parents readily do, but also to see and share their own wonder at the world. Children both catch our attention and reorient it. Being present to all the ways in which they are growing – to their focus and pursuits, their curiosity and capacities – also leads us to deeper faith. If attended to, if noticed, if pondered, the routine of caring for kids in ordinary time offers us ample opportunity for wonder, for entering as adults more deeply and alertly into the presence of God.

Of course, pondering doesn’t fit well within chaotic busy schedules, and sometimes we are forced to prioritize and scale down so that the holy has a chance to be. But even working within the chaos, we will miss so much if we are not aware of the moments worthy of treasuring in our hearts. Mary was a mother, and we know that role all too well. “…pondering ultimately involves accepting limits and realities that go beyond our understanding. Pondering includes attention, appreciation, and amazement to be sure; it embraces potential anguish too, an aspect of parenting hidden in Mary’s pondering to which we turn in the last chapter. For now, it is enough to recognize human limits in the care for others and the reality of failure and loss. Through her pondering, Mary becomes one of the first theologians of the Christian tradition, turning over and over in her mind just who this child is and what God has to do with it. She does so in the very midst of her mothering – not when she moves away from it all.”

The author ends with a story about a friend who is a pastor and a father bemoaning the fact that family devotions are not a tradition or habit in his family. He goes on to describe his daily life: “I come home midafternoon to be around when our two kids come home from school. My wife works until later in the day. We barely squeeze in dinner between her return, my evening meetings, and our kids’ activities.” Our conversation got cut off abruptly when one of his children ran up to pull him in another direction. Here’s what I wish I could have said. Although family prayer has its important place (I am not dismissing concern about its decline), prayer and scripture reading do not alone determine faith. Faith is not one more thing to check off the list. Family prayer; check. Bedtime prayer; check. Ritual for dead hamster; check. It is not something set aside outside regular time. It is what we do in time and space, with our bodies and through our movements. The practices of this man’s family – playing with the children after school, interacting around dinner, greeting and parting, attending and pondering – these practices are formative of faith. They train our eyes to see God amid change and time.

Family life is better than most any other thing going on in the universe. ~ Judith Viorst

Crystal

<sub>1. Luke 2:16-19
2. Luke 2:48-51</sub>

_{*All font in green is taken from Chapter 3 of In the Midst of Chaos by Bonnie Miller-McLemore.}