The Mothering Chronicles 9: Beyond Picket Fences

Of course I've thought it myself, but others have let the word form on their lips, in their raised eyebrows, in their silence. Craziness.

To sell the home that hands and hearts hinged together nail by nail, surely that's madness. To walk away from that place you built together with friends and planned on remaining forever, surely that's insane.
There's no other place like that in the county. In the country, for that matter.
Crazy.

But the moments are few, and this home, she drinks them like there has been a drought insisting on having more than her fair share. Insists on sending a Father to work over 85 hours a week to quench her thirst for months and long, long months. Insists on demanding this homeschooling momma work two other part time jobs. She's gotten greedy, this home.

And we've walked many miles in these shoes. Our souls are thinning.

Just because we can afford, does that mean we should afford? And maybe the 2.2 children and one lovely white picket fence thing is a little overrated when there is a world beyond that fence and millions of children with no fence, and no bed, hearts and bellies hungry for real food, real love. And really? They're out there, and I'm cutting my kentucky blue grass, clinging to an American dream? Who's clinging to them?

And where is God in homes and finances and godly people just trying to make their ends come together? Godly people obeying the directions their Father gave. Where is God's heart when Daddy is working another double and Momma's back is to her children, working again? Where is God when we cling to bricks and mortar, and our children's frames stretch for the sky, and the number of years they will remain with us is now fewer than the number of years we've already shared?

Because they do grow up.
And we don't have them forever.
And when all is said and done, what is truly the important thing in life?
What truly matters?
What is the best thing we can give to our children?
Are not these children the first stewardship we have?

And who can have a marriage who doesn't have time to share with their beloved?

And is home really this moon-yellow colonial farm house, or is it the place where we four gather?
And is the view from living room windows that I love best really the dusty-red dogwoods in early October or the dyed red hair of a 12 year old and the nappy long locks of a 10 year old while they conquer an invisible world when school's done? And if home and view are the latter, then don't they exist wherever we are?

Don't they?

And wouldn't it be crazier to stay? To eek it out when we could have taken less of this world to gain more of the things that truly matter?

What message do we send, when we hold to the temporary, insisting to our children that it is of some great value?
Because what they value is our eye contact, our heart contact, our time. Us with them. Daddy home. Mommy undistracted. Daddy and Mommy together, hands tangled, hearts twined, mouths laughing. Football in the backyard, full contact solitaire in the loft, Little Men on rain soaked afternoons.

Do we confuse them when we quote, "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth where moth and rust destroy, and thieves break in and steal . . . " (Matthew 9:16) and then turn around and continue to work at storing up, holding on, clinging to these earthly treasures?

And what did He say about the man who wants to serve two masters?

No man can serve two masters.

And what did He say about the church that tried to have it both ways?

Luke warm.

And what did He say about the man who asks God for wisdom, but doesn't take that wisdom and live by it?

Double minded. Tossed about like a wave of the sea.

And sometimes it is just dadgum hard not to have it both ways, if you want to know the truth. That's the truth.
The truth of how I feel, but feelings change, and if my truth is based on my feelings, than my truth is not constant. But then, I know The Truth.

And He--The Truth--says, "I am the way . . . I am the life. What does it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul? Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

Yet I know how those disciples felt, the ones that said, "This is a hard teaching. Who can accept it?" I know how they felt when they turned and walked the other way. The broad way.

A path well trod is easy on feeble feet, but it takes faith to place feet in foamy waves and trust that, keeping your eyes fixed on Him, you will not falter.

Could less really be more?
Could we live that out and see it to fruition?
Could we look the Jones Family square in the face and tell them, you win. We're not racing anymore. We're satisfied with loving each other and our children instead.
Could we lead the charge that insists status quo is not good enough, and picket fences may mean cages, and freedom may be found in letting go of them and clinging to Christ.

Is faith really the substance of things hoped for, the evidence not seen?

Because our forever home is sold, and we are two weeks away from a closing with no other sure thing on the horizon.

Evidence NOT seen.
Faith.

When you step into the water, leaving the safety of the boat--the safety of a home you know and love, a life you're comfortable with--you better believe He is good. Better have that Truth to place timid, tentative toes upon.

And I do.
Believe He is good.
Believe He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him.
Believe He is able to keep us from falling.
Believe He never leaves, never forsakes.
Believe He is a strong tower.
Believe He knows the plans He has for us, that they are good, hope-filled.
Believe He will keep in perfect peace him--little me--whose mind is steadfast on Him.
Believe He will give peace that passes understanding as a sentinel to guard this frightened heart.
Believe He has never, not one single time, let me down.

Believe me,
I do.


Pray with me: Father, you are the one who is able to keep us from falling. You are the God who promised that 'in our hearts we would plan our course, but YOU would determine our steps.' You are the substance of our faith. Determine our steps, Father. May we have your heart, your priorities. May you be our gain. May you be our home. May you be our forever. Amen.

But A Vapor

In January of 2008 I dreamt of death--my own. What a rumbling within my heart ensued in the days after that night! To stare into the reality that our days are not without end is unnerving, shocking even. I think of the movie "Bucket List" and songs with lyrics like, "live like you were dying." Their message like strokes of bold red on a white wall scream out the truth of our mortality. Yesterday I had my annual physical. The cholesterol came back good, the blood counts were fine, my foot still involuntarily jolts when my knee is tapped by the rubber mallet thingymajig. My sugar was a touch high, but when the lady asked me if I had a healthy diet, I failed to mention the Chic-Fil-A vanilla milkshake that served as my lunch on the way down. Instead I mentioned my organic garden; she seemed happy. Those organic carrots really raise blood sugar levels, I hear! I walked out of the Dr.'s with an A+ for health and the promise of many more good reports. But what if it had been different? What if, when she listened to my heart she heard a flutter or pause that shouldn't have been? What if when she checked for lumps she had come across one so stationary that she knew it could mean only one thing? What if she looked me square in the eyes and said in a gentle tone, "It isn't good, Sarah." What then? Would anything change? Tomorrow, I will spend time with someone who is in fact dying--shedding that mortal shell that carries our soul for a parenthesis on earth amidst eternity's ceaseless timeline. And I wonder, when she got the news, did anything change? I keep thinking of this lady's life over the years. I remember her since I was about 12. Just shy of 25 years I've watched her be the same--watched her love, watched her pray, watched her encourage, watched her stand beside her husband, watched her touch the lives of those around her, watched her perpetually worship. I'll most remember her as a lady among ladies, and one who loved her God. How would I be remembered? Really? Part of me wants to say, "Wait, I'm still working on that. Don't remember me yet. I need to tweak a few things first." My boys are young, my bill of health is good, my days are filled with schooling, gardening, cooking, neighboring, friending, daughtering, sistering, organizing, planning, laundry ( I should list that twice) dog training, bill paying. Filled. I feel, most of the time, like the carry-on I packed for a trip to Maine a couple years ago that was supposed to hold everything I needed for an entire long weekend. Or like a laundry basket that's been filled with water--it leaks everywhere. There's so much in my little sliver of life that I can barely keep all the ends tied let alone t's crossed and i's dotted. It's a tender time, I think, because my life won't be swollen and full and bulging forever. I'm going to wake up one day to silence in my home instead of the quiet, steady breathing of my early riser patiently waiting for me to greet the sun with him. And his tackling, tumbling brother won't knock me over with surprise jumps onto my back because he'll be grown. The Psalmist must have thought about these things too because he said, "So teach us to number our days, so that we might live wisely." (Psalm 90:12) And I'm left wondering, "If I'm to live like I'm dying--which, in truth I am--than what things should be on my daily bucket list?" There are like two million things and people all lined up, some not so patiently, waiting to make the cut. "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength...love your neighbor as yourself." (Matthew 22) Love God. Love people. Seems so simple. Maybe it is. Maybe every single action I take needs to go through this one filter, "Will I be loving God and loving people as I love myself if I do this thing?" And if I followed that mantra, then maybe my legacy would be tweaked enough. Maybe I would be remembered like this. She loved. She loved. That would be something. So, I know tomorrow isn't promised to me. I'm married to a firefighter. I face the reality of danger every third day when he leaves for his shift and I wonder, Will he come home? But what am I doing with the moments that are given me? What am I doing with the sweet precious mornings when that little rooster patters into my room wide awake and ready to discuss the NFL strike and the other one dives into my bed like it's a swimming pool? What am I doing with the few minutes between when the boys have gone to bed and Jeff is still up before he goes on shift? What am I doing with the people God puts in my life--the junior counselors at camp, the campers, the neighbors, the sisters, the friends, the parents? It is indeed a tender time, a time not to be taken for granted, not to be wasted. It is the allotted time. The bucket list time. Not the bucket list of adventures I want to take, but of seizing the moments that are my present reality and squeezing every ounce of life out of them that I possibly can. Ephesians 5:15 says we are to live carefully "redeeming the time" we are given. That word redeem carries with it the idea of rescuing something from being lost. My youngest son can't keep up with his shoes. He has about five thousand pairs, and none of them are where they are supposed to be at the proper time. When Sunday comes his brown dress shoes are surely down by the creek, and his camouflage boots are the only two matching shoes to be found. Sometimes I pick up his shoes, put them in a pile on top of the dryer, and just wait to see how long it takes him to notice they are all missing. He never has noticed. Not once. What if our minutes and hours were like that? God found them squandered and scattered haphazardly here and there, and He picked them up and placed them altogether for us to see collectively just how many precious moments we lost? I can't imagine what it would be like to really see all of that time together in one lump sum. It's my heart's desire to rescue the time God has given me. James 4:14 says, "...you are but a vapor, here for a little while and then vanishing." Like an early morning mist that whispers across a sleeping lake, our souls drift through these mortal days, only to return to the arms of eternity. May their journey leave behind the fragrance of God. Pray with me: Lord, I'm humbled that you've given me time. More of it than many. Help me daily to use every single fiber of it for love. Loving others, loving you, loving who you've made me to be. May I be known for love. Amen. Read with me: Ephesians 5:15,16

The Joy List

As the new year falls gently like snow into our lives without slowing or hastening to fit our timetable I am left considering the reality that ready or not the second semester of schooling has arrived, the dawn of a new decade is here and the winter though frigid now will soon give way to spring. Time. We can't stop it, can't argue it out of reality, can't slow it down, and try as we might, we cannot obtain one iota more. January not only ushers in 2010. For me, it also marks the second anniversary of my homeschooling trek and so while many think long and hard as the autumn begins about where they are headed and how things are going, I find myself most intensely considering those things as I wrap in flannelly Kleenex my cranberry Christmas balls and tuck the mistletoe back into Rubbermaid bins for yet another year. Two years doesn't sound like a very long time, but I feel like I've always educated my boys at home and though I'm no veteran, I have a sense of having done this a while now. Perhaps that is because I started preparing for it 7 years ago when Nathan was only 3. Or maybe it is because the educating of my little men really began when they were snuggled cozily inside my tummy and I read to my protruding belly button and continued when they were infants and I read classics to them even then. Regardless, here I am--contemplating, considering. How is it going? Are we enjoying our journey? Have I stayed my original course? Is God directing our learning? Am I stuck in any ruts? What have I learned works well? What have I learned causes us more grief than joy? And speaking of joy--is the spirit of our school day one of joy and discovery, even awe at all God has poured into our world? In fact, it is the question of joy that, like a strobe light, flashes into my mind and heart repeatedly. Jesus did come after all so that joy might be completed in our lives. How am I, as my children's primary caregiver and teacher doing at opening the windows of my their sweet souls so that the joy of Christ can waft in like the robin's song in spring? And it is on this particular mountain--that of allowing the joy of the Lord to scent every area of our lives--that I do believe I will spend my time this year. Not that joy is something I can personally achieve; it's a fruit of the spirit after all. Scripture also insists that joy comes from following the precepts of God and that it is something we experience while in God's presence. Given those truths I am forced to examine what things just might cause me to abandon the precepts of God, to miss out on the presence of God in my life. Here are a list of a few things that the Holy Spirit has been showing me. Maybe you can relate? 1. Fear of man. It's not words of the four lettered category with which I struggle, it is just one little two letter word that seems to haunt me. Ever struggle to say NO because you are afraid of what someone will think? I can think of at least one commitment I have presently that should NOT be on my plate and yet I couldn't say the two letter word. Seems so simple here. no. NO. NO! Ultimately that stems from a fear of man and God's word is rather clear that the "fear of man brings a snare." Whether it's struggling to say no, trying to keep up with the Jones family next door, or fretting and worrying over what the rest of the world will think about your children when all is said and done, all of these things stem from an ultimate fear of man. I won't lie and pretend I don't struggle with this. I do. But this year I want to spend more time considering the thoughts my Father has towards me and less considering those of others. His are, after all, so much more pleasing to my soul. (Isaiah 51:11-13) 2. Over Scheduling. Not saying no is the precursor to the reality that most of us are convinced we have more time in each day than we really do. In fact most of us rather stubbornly persist with over scheduling our lives to the point that we are left completely unable to be still when we do in fact have a quiet evening. Before committing or renewing commitments this year for both my children and myself I am going to ask one question--can I maintain my location in the presence of God and be involved in this activity? Realistically as mothers whether we educate our children at home or work full time there simply will not be a great deal of wiggle room in our schedules if we plan to do our very best at the first stewardships God gave us--God Himself, our spouse if we are married, and our children. I have never met a pastor who told me to slow down, and I've never had someone say to me, "Sarah, you'd be great on this committee, but since you are in the mothering phase of life, I think perhaps someone else should do it." People will ask and take and request until the rapture. We have to learn to discern how much is enough. And then we must fearlessly stand our ground. Adam and Eve did not have blackberries...well, at least not the electronic kind. If the Garden of Eden was God's perfect plan for humankind then we might do well to attempt to mimic it whenever possible. (Well, not so much the naked part...at least not in public :-) 3. Daily. Joy is kind of like manna. The Israelites had to gather it daily. And since I mentioned Adam and Eve, one habit they had was walking with God in the cool of the evening. Sort of a daily kind of activity. If life is too full to get into God's Word regularly, then in reality, it won't be long before life is empty. Joy is a fruit and if it is removed from the vine it will spoil quickly. I need to be in God's word regularly. That can be SO hard for mothers who tend to give, give, give. It can be hard for all of us because frankly, we live in a world where distractions are as plentiful as the dust in my husbands workshop. We won't go too long without food, but sometimes we'll go days, weeks, even months without spiritual food. 4. Keeping my eyes on Jesus. It's tricky. The whole mothering, parenting, wifing, teaching side of things can be a sort of tight rope act. We as women are so relational--we want to interact and discuss and mull over every aspect of our lives with someone. And though I do love talking to God, a chat over tea with a sister face to face can be SO gratifying. But here's the thing about those conversations--they need to point us to Jesus and His heart for our families. If those conversations leave us wanting to be more like another individual or comparing ourselves to another, then they were futile and will suck the joy out of our home quicker than a hoover vacuum. God doesn't do templates. Our families are not cookie cutter images of Leave it to Beaver or Married with Children for that matter. They are unique reflections of our heavenly Father's vast creativity. 5. Computer. SHUT DOWN. Yeah. I know. That's a hard one when you are home all day long or even when you are at work--the little ding indicating email is awaiting is like a shot of espresso. Woo Hoo! Something of interest besides 2 + 2 = 4 and E=MC (how do you make the squared symbol on the computer?) I love to post my status on facebook--it's how I stay connected to my sisters and my extended family in the states and in Canada. Photos have always been a passion of mine and posting them regularly keeps Nannie and Poppa in Ontario daily involved in my boys' lives. That's a gift I give them because I can't imagine how hard it would be to have my children live far away. BUT...realistically, I don't need to spend more than five or ten minutes MAX a day doing those things. Really. Do I want my relationships to be completely virtual? The thing about email and facebook and all those other sites is that they remove part of our attention. We think we are multi-tasking--teaching the kids, paying the bills online, talking on the phone, but who are we kidding? This year my computer will be off more. I can post my status, upload my new photos and pay my bills in ten minutes flat and then, unless we need it for school, I can turn my little old HP off. Sorry Hewlett! 6. Plan. I did this already and WOW! I took about two days and literally planned every single day for the rest of the year. It is NOT selfish to take time for planning. I am the kind of person who loves being with my kids. While others scream for a break and complain that they are overwhelmed and must have "me time" in order to thrive, I adore every waking moment in the presence of my sweet boys. After a busy holiday season with loads of wonderful company I turned and looked at my husband and said, "All I want to do is play with the boys." It was very hard for me to take even more time to plan, but I knew God was calling me to get organized. So, I did take time to play and then I took time to plan. I always know where we're going and lay lessons out at least a week or more in advance, but to actually sit down and take the time to map out the remainder of our school year is the most freeing and liberating feeling. Some people might say, "Well, if I planned that far in advance I'd just end up changing everything." I understand. I'm not talking about carving the lesson plans in stone. What I'm talking about is getting a really solid game plan, a framework on which to stand, so that when hectic days and weeks come along I've got some solid footing and quick references to where we need to be. Take time to plan. You'll be better for it. 7. Space. Moving into our new home I have found myself wanting to fill it with less and leave more room for the air and light to flow freely. I think my life is that way too. I need to leave some wiggle room. I am creative and I like to "go with it" when the boys take an interest in something. In December, Corton decided he wanted to learn to carve. It wasn't in my plans. And frankly, I had no idea how to go about that, nor did I have any real interest in it myself. BUT...he WAS interested. Hello? This isn't rocket science! This is why I home school. This is the beauty of homeschooling. When they say, "Mom, I want to learn to carve." We say, "Sounds great! Let's see what resources we can come up with as soon as possible." And that's what we did. The neat thing is that he carved three different Christmas presents, the most special of which was a beautiful fireman's boot for Jeff. Now he is saying that after he retires from his football career he will probably want to become a "whittler." Plan, yes. But leave gaps--leave breathing room for the things that capture the hearts of your children. And if nothing captures for a month or two, then use that wiggle room to jump on the trampoline or read a great novel that is entirely unrelated to anything else you are learning, or to just paint for painting's sake. Wiggle room is to your family experience like grace is to your spiritual experience. 8. Play We don't get tomorrow. We don't even get the promise of another minute. We have now. And our precious children will not take with them what we intended to do but never got around to. And our spouses, whom we promised to cherish deserve so much more than the mundane day to day responsibilities most of us share. We get so wrapped up in remembering to pay the mortgage, cut the grass and to pick up a gallon of milk that we forget to have fun. I am going to have fun on purpose. And I'm going to check it off my to do list every single week. Sounds cheesy, I know. But I want my kids to look back on these years and remember them as full of laughter, full of giggling, and full of fun. How it must grieve the heart of God when we forget to smile and share our smiles with the very people who live nearest us! If there's no time for fun, then I better revisit number 1 and 2 on my list this year. There are more, but for now these are the things I'd like to share with each of you. Maybe your list is different or maybe it is identical. Tomorrow I begin a new year, a new chapter, a fresh start. It's not that I was looking for a fresh start or even that things were in horrible disarray in 2009. On the contrary, for the most part, the kids and I are having a blast. But still, in the quiet of the evening God has pressed these things on my heart and I'm listening. What good am I as a mother if I ignore the voice of my heavenly Father? I'll leave you with the words of Jesus when he said, "These things I have told you so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be full." (John 15:11) We're half way through this academic year and I know many of you are like me in that you want to do so many things. Marthas. And yet it was Mary who chose the most excellent thing--the presence of Jesus. It is there, in the living waters of the heart of Jesus that we take in incredible fullness of joy and it is the joy of the Lord that will be our strength as we continue to mother our children and love our families. Be encouraged, my friends, in the truth that for every moment you persevere, for every whispered prayer, for every trying day, you are laying up treasure in heaven. And even more important, you are laying foundations on earth in the heart of your children. Fullness of joy. Complete joy. May it be yours in 2010. Amen.

What Time Is It?

He was two when he began to ask with incessant persistence, "Momma what time is it?" By three we had taught him how to decipher the numbers on a digital clock face and not much more than three and a half years had passed before he could read the face of any time telling device with mastery. My eldest son was desperate to know exactly what time it was and precisely what we would be doing at that exact time. Affectionately I refer to him as my palm pilot and still six years later he can tell you to the minute when the Georgia Bulldogs will play their next game and what exact hour and minute he awoke on any given day. To him, life is a series of appointments and he doesn't want to miss a single one. Never one to linger longer than the next appointment will allow, he watches the clock like my chocolate lab watches my hand when a treat hangs in the balance. Just last week I had scheduled a necessary doctor's visit--one I had of course put off longer than I should. On Tuesday I panicked. It was 11:30 and I thought surely I had missed my appointment which was at 10:30. The boys and I were snuggled on the couch pouring over some incredible book about civilizations thousands of years past this calendar day. "Nathan," I instinctively yelped. "My appointment. I missed it." How in the world could I have done something so reckless? The appointment I had procrastinated in making I had now completely missed. The boxing gloves were on and I was pummeling myself in the face and over the head. Why can't I keep my appointments and responsibilities straight? Why am I not a better multi-tasker? Naturally and calmly he grabbed the calendar from a stack of papers and on closer examination we realized I had two more days. The appointment was Thursday. I made it to the appointment. See I tend to be the polar opposite of my son the digital agenda book in human form. I tend to multiple book myself and then wonder why I'm late for everything. And the truth be told if I only book one thing, well, I'm still probably going to be late. I rarely arrive early and I rarely leave early once I've arrived. There are self-help books written for people like me. I've read a few. The next book I plan to read is called, "Balancing Life, Arriving on Time, Looking Great, Eating Great, Being Great, Staying in Shape, Eating Healthy, Saving Your Family Money, Having Girl Time, Having Date Nights, Having Mommy-Son Time, Having God Time, You Too Can Achieve The Balanced Life." But I can't find it in the library search engine. I'll just say from the get-go here that I've met people who are pretty close to qualified to write a book like that. I have. But they are few and they are far between, and I've never looked deeply inside their lives to comment on how it's really going for them while they juggle ten thousand plates. I don't know if any of their plates have come crashing down in a thousands shreds of ironstone about their wrestless feet. It may in fact be very well with their soul. But I think it's pretty safe to say that the vast majority of us may instead find ourselves wondering how in the world do I achieve balance in a world where the demands are incredibly overwhelming and loud? Ecclesiastes 3 says, "For everything there is an appointed time, and an appropriate time for every activity on earth." This past summer while watching as my little men splashed in the county's L-shaped concrete pool my mother said she'd heard a novel message about balance in the Christian life. I wish I could offer credit here to the guy with the new idea, but I don't think she told me his name. And if she did share it with me it is entirely possible that I cursed and spit it out before letting it sink into the long-term memory of my little brain because what busy mother of two boys and wife and sister and daughter and well, you know what I mean, what person wants to hear more about balance? The whole Proverbs 31 evangelicalistic notion that women can do and be everything for everyone can be wearisome to those of us who are natural Martha's as it is. Frankly, there are times when those messages leave us utterly defeated in a heap before our heavenly Father confessing our inadequacies and failures to Him once again. (Hey, I didn't really curse, guys...that was a joke.) "Rhythms," my mom informed me "are what the Christian life is all about. Not balance." Now, I was listening. This was something new to me. As a homeschooling mom, I'd been pondering the idea of the natural rhythm of our family--learning the rhythm, dancing the rhythm, but I'd never consider it's application outside of that arena. She mentioned the passage in Ecclesiastes 3: "For everything there is an appointed time, and an appropriate time for every activity on earth." She talked about how this man said that the idea of achieving perfect balance wasn't even biblical. Where in the Bible did Jesus exercise balance on earth? He preached to exhaustion and then recuperated in mountainside prayer retreats. He preached until long after the noon hour when the crowd was famished and then, he fed them 'til they were stuffed and there were baskets of food left over. He didn't politely instruct the marketeers defiling the temple that he'd like them to please leave quietly through the left side exit. He turned their money-changing tables upside down and kicked them out on their little hinies. He called stinking dead people from tombs and raised them to new life and He prayed not a little while, but all night at times. Then, he praised Mary for sitting on her duff the entire time He visited saying she chose the more excellent way. Balance? Is it possible that balance is another legalistic man-made attempt at trying to attain perfection and even dare I say it, rightness before God and man when in fact what we are reaching for is unattainable by those of us limited by a human body? (That's all of us.) I'm just asking. Could balance be Satan's newest serpent slithering about the fruit trees of our lives saying, "Are you sure you can't have it all?" And I'm asking because I have to tell you that I've run on the treadmill of the Christian life for many years and I'm watching others run on it now. The problem with running on treadmills is that you don't really get anywhere and if you quit running, you end out moving rapidly backwards until you fall. I'm not into treadmill spirituality. Not anymore. In Christian circles the treadmill runners are often praised for their endurance and commitment, but if they dare stop moving their entire life comes crashing down. I don't know if that's the right idea. I really don't. And I have to wonder what the heart of God is feeling when He gazes at His beautiful creations in heaps before His feet feeling defeated and like failures. Surely He is grieved. So going back to that small verse in Ecclesiastes penned by the inspiration of God, apparently there's an appointment for everything in our lives. And if there's one thing I have learned it's that you when you double-book yourself, you end out missing one appointment or the other. So, is it possible that God's intention for mankind was to dance the rhythm of life--at times fast, at times slow making one appointment at a time? An appointment for healing, an appointment for planting an appointment for uprooting? Was it perhaps God's intention that we live in the freedom of ceasing the juggling act and instead picking up one plate at a time--two if our hands will hold them and that's all? What would it look like if Christians everywhere quit running the treadmill of balance and instead said without apology, "I'm a mother and wife for the next several years so if you want to make it into my palm pilot you'll need to get in line and be ready for a wait because it's going to be a while before I can get to you too." What if Father's said, "I'm a daddy and a husband and so if you want me you'll have to line up behind my wife and kids." Ministries would end. But then maybe we wouldn't need the ministries because we would be making the appointments God already set for us. The face of churches would change. The face of neighborhoods would too though. Because when have you ever looked at a person panting their last breaths on a treadmill and thought that's exactly where I want to be? That's no great advertisement for following the way of Jesus. But when a neighbor sees a family in the backyard throwing the football together, laughing and enjoying their appointment to be a family, well, that is something utterly enticing, now isn't it? Listen. I'm not saying I've gotten anything figured out. I'm just asking the question--is balance biblical? And I don't want pat, pre-fab unthought out answers. This is an invitation to climb out of the "this is what a Christian looks like" box and allow God to speak. Let's just ask Him together, shall we, and see where we land? Pray with me: Lord, show us your heart. Show me what exactly it is that you desire for my life and the lives of those around me. Show us Lord, the appointments for which we were created and empower us to walk away from ideas that are not contained in your heart. Amen.