Kony 2012

You've probably already seen images on facebook or Pinterest that say Kony 2012.  When I saw one the other day I googled Kony and discovered that we should all know who he is.  Check out this video, it is worth your time.  This is exciting--people taking back media/social media and using it for good-using it to combat a great evil in the world.  Ultimately, I think Jesus is how we combat evil, but I think we use that as an excuse to not do anything sometimes.  This dude says it better than I can, just watch the video.

Zain: Five Months

Zain is changing so fast and I've hardly written about him.  He is rolling over, both back to belly and belly to back.  He is blowing raspberries.  He is laughing and smiling like crazy.  Just about two days ago, he discovered his hands and you will often find him holding them up and staring at them now.  He sleeps through the night only occasionally. 

He is so precious!  This is one happy little guy.  Any time I look at him, he flashes me the biggest most dimply grin that completely melts my heart.  Maya adores him and he adores her.  She has taken to rubbing her face on his and laying on him in order to get her face right up next to his.  He has learned a trick (maybe out of self defense)--hair pulling!  He grabs a big handfull of her (or my) hair and does not let go!  He likes to be on his tummy and does this kind of inch worm thing where he lays his face down and sticks his butt up, then he lifts his head up and then goes back to head down, butt up.  I think it will turn into crawling before we know it.  He is so different from Maya, so much more physical at this age than she was.  He is a charmer and loves to look around the room and grin at anyone who he can get to look back at him.  He is patient and if he can just get his thumb into his mouth, he can soothe himself, even when he's really hungry.  I love this little guy so much!  Happy 5 month birthday Zain-er!

What We Want Part II: Fasting, a Broken Foot and a Tantrum

So here's part II.  Lots of comments on that last post, here and via email and fb--I was glad to hear that I am not alone in this struggle--misery (or apathy?) loves company, right?

I had just found a band called Gungor (and then my SIL wrote and said she'd just seen them live and it was a profound worship experience and that we had to get this new album of theirs) so I've been listening to their album called Ghosts Upon the Earth (Just FYI to my Kansas friends, they will be playing Wed, MARCH 21, at the Orpheum Theatre--Don't miss this!!).  Listening to their rock-mini-opera through the Bible, for the first time in ages, I wanted to read my Bible.  Specifically one of my all-time favorites: Hosea.  I've always been inexplicably drawn to this story.  As I read tonight, these words stood out to me:

She said, 'I will go after my lovers, who give me my food and my water, my wool and my linen, my oil and my drink.'  Therefore I will block her path with thronbushes; I will wall her in so that she cannot find her way.  She will chase after her lovers but not catch them; she will look for them but not find them.  Then she will say, 'I will go back to my husband as at first, for then I was better off than now.' Hosea 2.5-7

Matt and I decided that we wanted to fast from TV for lent again this year.  I had a creeping feeling (dread) leading up to lent that we needed to do this.  That once again, this had become an idol in my life.  Not that I love and worship and adore TV, but that I go to TV to distract and soothe and accompany me when I am exhausted and don't want to have to think or talk or interact anymore.  Parenting a 2 year old and a 5 month old has been taking all that I have within me.  Not so much the 5 month old (honestly, I forget about him sometimes).  But his needs, on top of a very chatty 2 year old who wants to take part in everything I do, has resulted in one of the hardest seasons of my life.  Maybe even harder than the year we lived in Syria--and that's saying a lot.  I found myself at the end of my rope.  Then my precious and wonderful sister came to visit and for two sweet weeks, answered the "What is this?" question a million times a day so that I didn't have to.  It was awesome.  Then she went home. 

Then we decided we should fast.  Then my husband broke his foot.  Then required surgery.  Now he can't put any weight on it for 6 to 8 weeks.  At all.  Then at least another month in a walking cast.  When the weight of it all hit me, it was over the dishes.  I realized he won't be helping me with the dishes for at least the next two months. And I can't watch TV.  What the freak.  So then I am tempted to call the whole thing off.  I've needed more drugs than my post operative husband.  If I can't have my TV escape, then darn it all, I'll find something else. . .

Isn't that just like me?  (Like all of us, I hope.)  You think you're gonna take away my favorite toy, God?  Well I'll show you.  I'll find a better one.  I am a bigger baby than my toddler.  I throw fits too.  I've been asking God over and over for only God knows how long to make me want Him again.  To draw me close to Him.  To help me to restore the discipline of Bible reading and prayer in my life.  So He urges and convicts me to lay something aside that is often a distraction and a time suck, so that I might be able to have more free time and free mental space to seek Him.  And then He goes and breaks Matt's foot and doubles my work load and my burden.  He makes me so desperate and needy that I don't know where to turn.  And then I spend the following week ignoring Him.  Being mad at Him for making my life harder.  I think He has blocked my way with thornbushes to encourage me to go back to my first love.  But I think Johnny Cash said it best, (paraphrase) it's hard to kick against the pricks.

I've been reading bits and pieces from John Piper's book "When I Don't Desire God."  I think it will be good.  The subtitle is "How to Fight for Joy".  I'll let you know if it helps fix my broken wanter.  I've come to the end of all I have for now.  So I guess this is another to be continued. . .

Doing What We Want

Warning, this post is rated BH for brutally honest (this is an Abbe'ism, find her here).  I can't remember the last time I was consistently in the Word (feel free to insert a gasp here for dramatic effect.  Or affect.).  I don't mean the I don't remember the last time (but it was last week or last month) kind.  I mean I can't remember when.  It may have been years. (more gasps.  judgement.  shock.)  This is not something often admitted to by those in my circle.  By that I mean professional Christians.  This is a term I've coined to describe those who in some form or another make their living doing Christian things.  We're supposed to be better than that (we're supposed to be better than you, in fact).  We're not supposed to admit to big dark hairy (you thought I was going moles there, huh?  Get your mind out of the dermatologists office) struggles.  We (professional Christians) are not supposed to admit to our struggles unless they are A) something that we struggled with years and years ago and then gained total victory from and now make a living going around and talking about, or B) completely "innocent" like road rage or an addiction to football.  That kind of struggle is ok.  But the kind of struggle that is still giving us rope burns on our hands because we're having such a tug of war?  Nope.  No sir.  Professional Christians cannot own up to such.  Maybe because if we discover that they struggle with the fundamental disciplines of the Christian life, we think they're at risk for losing their job.  Maybe we doubt their ability to help someone to find Jesus, if they seem to have lost Him themselves and that makes us uncomfortable.  Maybe we've idolized them and their admittance to struggle sort of tarnishes how we see their role of Pastor or Missionary or church secretary. 
I will never forget the night in college, when Dave Larson, in the lobby of our dorm told me this: "You always do what you want."  He had listened to me complain about something, I'm sure, and he made this statement that was both startling and exhilarating at once.  "You always do what you want"--He was suggesting (I believe) that ultimately, we follow our desires and do the thing we really truly wanted to do, even though sometimes we say we didn't want to do that thing because it was hard or scary or whatever.  I can't think of a non-confusing way to say this.  Maybe an example will make it more clear.  You clean your house, but say that you did it, even though you didn't want to.  Dave might say that no, in fact, you always do what you want, so you may not have enjoyed it, but cleaning your house was what you wanted to do (maybe deep deep down), because we always do what we want. As in, we don't actually do things because we are obligated--we do things because, somewhere, within, we really wanted to do that (if even because we really wanted that result to happen). 

After watching the movie, "The Vow" together, my sister was telling me about a story she had heard about a woman who had a severe brain injury that caused her short term memory to malfunction (I'll link to this if I can find it).  Her injury was so severe that she would "wake up" over and over and over in the same manner, confused about where she was and what had happened to her, no ability to remember the recent past, and every single time she woke up she would have the exact same conversation in the exact same order, even telling the exact same joke.  Both the movie and this story seem to back up the idea that yes, we do in fact, ultimately do what we want to do.  This doesn't bother me until I think about spending time with the Lord (or not spending time with Him, as the case may be).  Is the "why" behind my lack of faithfulness and consistency that I don't do it because ultimately, I don't want to?  If I haven't done this (spend time in prayer and reading) regularly for more than a few weeks in years, then do I just not want to?  And if that's the case, how do I fix it?  How do I get my want-to back?  I don't want to spend time with Jesus, I want to watch shallow, ridiculous, pointless TV.  I don't want to spend time with Jesus, I want to have my morning coffee and check facebook.  I don't want to spend time with Jesus, I want to take a nap.  Or have a snack.  Or look at blogs.  Or pinterest.  Or craft something.  If we always do what we want, why don't I spend time with Jesus?  And how do I fix a broken "wanter"?

Oh great.  The Narcolepsy (I'm not kidding--I actually have it) is completely taking over and I can't think straight or continue writing--this will have to be a "to be continued" kind of post. . .

Look What Zain Can Do (a.k.a. Whoops, lack of supervision much?)

I'm freaking out here.  Zain is a BUSY boy already!  He loves to kick his legs, squirm his body, throw himself back over and over and over just for fun and make diaper changing almost impossible.  And then this happened this morning:

So, when I left the room, he was doing this (Except he was sleeping and the big slobber puddle hadn't happened yet.  This picture is totally staged after the fact.)

When I came back into the room he was doing this:

Holy guacamole!  Isn't he too young to be doing things like this (just turned 4 months)?  I'm not ready (insert panic and desperation voice here)!  I am proud though--isn't he cute with his little legs dangling over the edge of the precipice of the couch? ;)

Disclaimer: No babies were harmed in the documentation of this event.

Christmas

My heart is a little heavy this morning.  I've thought a lot this year about how we as believers celebrate Christmas.  I read an article on CNN today--it was a compilation of people who would categorize themselves as non-believers, describing how they celebrate Christmas.  The quote that really struck me was this one: "We exchange gifts, have elaborate meals, and spend time with our family and friends, many of whom are believers and know we are not. Sharing, giving, and loving are traits of humanity -- not divinity."— David Lilley.  The thing that bothered me was how much alike our celebrations are.  Just two days ago, I spent three days cooking this huge crazy meal for some friends for Christmas, but in the midst of all of that, where was Jesus?  I yelled at my child for crying (because his needs were interrupting what I wanted to be doing).  As parents of young kids, I really want to be teaching them from an early age that Christmas is about Jesus (not about gifts, not about Santa, not about getting stuff, not about decorations, not about consumerism, not about certain kinds of music, not about special food).  But I want that to be what Christmas is about in my own heart first.  After reading this article, I was so humbled and challenged-I have such a long way to go before I feel my celebration of Christmas will really reflect the One whom I claim to love and follow and worship.  I read on a friend's blog not long ago, "I love Jesus, and sometimes I act like it."  I felt like that was a perfect description of me!  Ugh!  I had been feeling kind of happy (proud) that whenever Maya sees a Santa, she shouts out, "Snowman!"  She has no idea who Santa is.  Aren't I spiritual?  Aren't I a good Christian parent?  GROSS!  Jesus birth was humble.  Unassuming.  He announced His arrival to common shepherds--the least of these.  Last night we went for a walk in a big shopping district near our house because I wanted to find a special hairbow to go with Maya's Christmas dress for church on Christmas day (I know, I am completely shallow and ridiculous--once I found the bow I had been dreaming of, Matt said it looked like road kill so that helped snap me back into reality!).  While we were walking along, a little girl came up and asked for money.  She had three little packages of chicklets gum she was selling.  We chatted for a while and I learned she was only nine years old.  No dad.  Sick mom.  She comes every Friday and walks the streets trying to gain some sympathy from shoppers, or people coming to pray at the mosques.  I bet her mom would like her to have a pretty bow too.  Yah, Jesus got some fancy gifts from the wisemen, but his parents couldn't afford to buy the standard sacrifice when they took Him to the temple to be dedicated, so they had to buy the birds instead.  If Jesus had been born in my lifetime, would I recognize him?  Would I be like Anna and Simeon and the shepherds, or would I be too busy hanging out with the Pharisees, proud of how "good" I am and how "good" my kids are?  Oh Jesus, show me how to make Christmas about you in my heart and in my actions.

Two Years Old!

Maya turned two today.  She sang happy birthday to herself all day.  We ate lunch after church at one of her favorite places: Fuddruckers!  The way that she says it is so funny!  She just learned to count from one to ten in Arabic (she mastered 1 to 10 in English weeks ago) and she knows the entire alphabet.  She loves to sing and is probably better than me at carrying a melody line already!  She loves her brother and has been super sweet with him.  Yesterday we had a big party for her birthday and it was so fun to see people from so many countries, religions, races, and socioeconomic levels brought together to have fun celebrating this little social butterfly.  She brings us so much joy and helps us to see things anew.  Happy Birthday baby girl!