Nameless

There are many noteworthy women in the Bible, many with emmulating. You may think of Ruth and Naomi or Esther or Mary or Miriam or countless others. Some are named and much time is spent on them. Others receive much less fanfare, but that doesn't mean they have less to teach us.

In Luke 7:36-50 we meet a woman whose name we never get to know. Infact, not only do we not know her real name, the phrase she is often known by isn't terribly flattering: "The Anointing Sinner".  When you read Lukes account you'll find that this woman, a well known sinner, entered the home of a Pharisee who did not seem to care for her (presumably due to the sinful situation she was living in). She enters the home and proceeds to anoint Jesus feet - washing them with her tears, kissing them, and then pouring perfume on them. Gernerally we focus on the Pharisees less than forgiving response to the woman and Jesus gentle reprimand ... It's definitely an angle with studying. But today I thought about the woman.

The woman was a *known* sinner. People knew her because of her sin. People judged her because of her sin. She had lived in this sin long enough it was a part of her and her life ... Something she hadn't, didn't, maybe couldnt, hide.

And, apparently, she was ready to change.

She was so ready to change she marched into the home of a man who didn't want her there. The home of a man who was probably as known for his "righteous judgements" as she was for her sin. 

She was so ready to make a change that she went into this uncomfortable situation to wash a man's dirty, stinky feet with her tears, dry them with her hair, and pour her perfume on them ... Which doesn't exactly sound like a pleasant task. 

She was so ready to make a change that she decided not to care what others would think of her, not to care that they would likely ridicule and belittle her as she approached Jesus's feet. 

She was was so ready to make a change that she approached Jesus with her love and faith completely unrestrained. 

And we never even get to know her name.

I've sometimes wondered why we aren't told her name. Maybe it's to help us remember that perhaps our individuality isn't as important as our willingness to stand with and serve God. Maybe because after being so well known for her sin, her name not being shared was a blessing of some sort ... She no longer needed to stand out as an individual because she now stands with the servants of God.

She got to "go in peace", saved by her faith. Saved by her willingness to make a change despite everything people thought they knew of her. Saved and able to go on, a changed and new person, ready to serve God.

Oh, how I hope I am always willing to turn to God (and away from my sins) nommatter who is watching or how (un)comfortable I feel. Oh, how I hope I remember my name here on earth doesn't really matter as long as it is written in God's Book of Life. 

Being Careful

PSA: If at any point in time you hear this sweet child of mine yell "It's okay, I'm being careful for you!" ... She is almost certainly doing something ridiculously risky and/or dangerous, hence, creating the need to be careful. 🤦🏼‍♀️

It's also wise to become suspicious if you hear either of my children say "I'm not hiding anything behind my back...", "I'm not doing anything.", "I'm okay!" Or any other variation of these things. 🤷🏼‍♀️

It's one of the things I love about littles ... They wear their hearts on their sleeves and their intentions are written all over their faces. They aren't generally great at being sneaky and that is, more often than not, a wonderful thing.

I always chuckle to myself when the girls are trying to spy or sneak and end up giving themselves away, but I am grateful for their declarations of "I'm being careful" that serve as a warning to let me know I need to figure out (quickly) exactly *why* we are being careful. 

You see, as human nature goes, as my girls grow they will get better at sneaking. Instead of yelling out to tell me they are "being careful" they are liable to grow quieter in those moments when they feel the need to take caution because of a choice they are making   It's not a thing I want to have happen - in fact, I'm prepared to work quite hard against it - but isn't it something we all do?

If we ever feel ourselves "toeing a line" between right and wrong - a good choice and a questionable one - we don't shout "I'm being careful!" But we certainly think it to ourselves.

If we're hanging with the questionable crowd, if we're visiting a questionable place, if we're watching or reading a questionable thing and we know we should reconsider we reassure ourselves with the mantra "I'll be careful". It's like we're saying "it's fine, I can toe this line and come out on the right side of things." And, well, if you really want to know my thoughts on "walking the line", you can read a little about them here.

When we whisper - to ourselves and God in our own heads - "I'm being careful for you" it is no different than a two year old yelling out to her Momma. It's our the instincts we were born with kicking in and shout for help. Sometimes I think our instinct to ask for help may have been shoved down by years of the world working to harden our hearts and that "I'm being careful" is our quiet plea for someone to bail us out ... Or, at least, it should be. 

So, next time you have to say "It's okay, I'm being careful for you." remind yourself that when a two year old says it what it really means is "I'm doing something I probably shouldn't be and may need help at any second." ....and it may very well mean that same thing for you, too.

No Secret Rules

"Mommy," she whispered in quite the conspiratal tone "I'm going to tell you a rule that isn't written in those directions because ...." (her voice dropped to an excited whisper) "it's a secret rule."

....and that, folks, is how my 5 year old *may* try to beat you in just about any game. 

You've been warned. 

Because the thing about those "secret rules"? I can't verify them. I can't reread them to make sure I understand. I can't point them out to someone else to let them have a look. And, I can't be certain (seeing as how I have no record of these secret rules other than my own sometimes faulty memory) ... but I'm fairly sure that sometimes from round to round the "secret rules" change. 

Any time the "secret rules" come in to play, I can't win. I didn't know about them, I'm not prepared for them, I can't predict how or when they will change, and they often seem to be quite a bit one sided. 🤔 

And so, we talk about why it's not fair to have rules that are secrets. We discuss why the game developers write all the rules out for everyone who wants to play to see. I reminder her that people can't follow a rule they don't know about and people can't be prepared for something they didn't know was coming. I point out that the game developers probably wanted everyone to have a fair chance at winning so everyone could play and have fun.

Then we check the (not secret) rules to see what we should do. 

And though those conversations aren't exactly fun in the moment, I know that someday she'll be thankful she can read the rules and understand them. I know that someday she'll be glad she has a fair chance and understanding, figuring out, and winning any game she wants to play.

Right now she's 5 and making up rules is age appropriate and doesn't bother me. But the concept is important for me to help her understand because I pray that someday she'll realize and be thankful for the fact that God also doesnt have any secret rules. I pray she'll realize the importance of sharing His word where He has laid out for us exactly what we need to do to be prepared to win our heavenly crown (with no secret, unwritten extras). That we all have a fair chance of understanding His words, the ability to reread when we need to, an equal opportunity to abide by His laws, and a fair shot at "winning" eternity.

And that, folks, is way more important than any game I play with her now.

 

Crying Over Potted Plants

Monday I bought a whole lot of beautiful flowers and pepper and tomato plants and potted them.  I was hopeful for spring. Hopeful the warm temps wouldn't let me down. Today I carried all 27 pots into my garage because the forecast calls for frost and cold temps the next few days. I'm sure if the plants could talk they'd tell you how sad they are to have been taken out of their beautifully chosen places and the wonderful sunshine and stuck in a garage. I was certainly a bit sad placing them there.

Monday I mailed a letter to each student in my class checking in on them, sharing stories of my time at home, and letting them know that I missed them and hoped to see them soon. Today ww got news that the school year is "over". Oh, we will see it through til our scheduled end day of May 15th, but it will be with weekly assignments, distance learning, and an occasional video chat. I was certainly (more than) a bit sad hearing this.

In fact, when I read the announcement, I cried. And then, I had to tell my daughter - and she cried (which, of course, meant I cried again). And, though I've never been one to cry over plants (because, why?) I teared up carrying pots into the garage. Because coupled with the sense of loss I was feeling about school, moving all my pots to the garage felt, well, hopeless.

Turns out, sad is my least favorite feeling. So, I started searching for a better focus, and I realized, I wasn't putting the plants in the garage because I'm hopeless ... its actually a move full of hope. 

See, when I use the word hope, I use it to mean "to look forward to with desire and reasonable confidence". I haven't given up hope on spring. I'm still looking forward to it with desire and I still have reasonable confidence that consistently warm temperatures will come. The next few days of cold is simply a display of the fickleness of Missouri ... in fact, a few cold spells as spring starts is, well, part of spring. I'm not giving up my plants, I'm giving them a better chance. A chance to stay a bit warmer so that in a short time they can get back out to their spots and live their best plant lives.

I haven't given up hope on our world getting back to normal either. I still look forward to it with desire and have reasonable confidence that it will happen. Sure, it looks like it's going to take (more than) a bit longer than I'd like to happen, but eventually businesses will reopen, people will leave their home offices to venture back to their work places, and students will fill my classroom again. The next short period of stay at home orders and school closures is simply a display of the fickleness of our world. 

Furthermore, this time of abnormal-ness is a reminder of how important it is that my true hope is not of this world. That my true hope comes from my belief and faith in God and is rooted in the assurances we have from Him. Romans 5:1 "Through Him we have also. obtained access by faith into this grace. in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God."  

So, I'm adjusting my perspective - albeit, forcefully at times - and I'm still hoping.

I'm hoping that I can make the most of this time at home with my husband and my girls.

I'm hoping that my community, and my country, can rebound quickly from this chaos.

I'm hoping that my students will use this time to learn all sorts of things I might not have taught them (and maybe read a little, too).

I'm hoping this time works to build stronger family units across our country and world.

I'm hoping this time of separation drives people to reach out to one another.

I'm hoping that when we get back to normal we remember to be thankful for all the things we took for granted before this time.

And, I'm hoping that through all the chaos, God is glorified by His people and their handling of the situation, and their faith.

Crying over potted plants seems really silly once you realize how much there is to be hopeful for.

Psalms 25:5 "Guide me in Your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long." 

Pray for the Kids

"Mommy," Lydia asked today, "has the school decided that we can go back yet?"

And so I tried to explain, for the 18th time, that it would be awhile before we could go back ... and that by "awhile" I meant at least the month of April ... and that a month is about 30 days, and that "yes, 30 is a lot of tomorrows."

Because she simply doesn't understand. She doesn't understand why we aren't having friends over to play. She doesn't understand why we aren't going to visit neat places. And mostly, she doesn't understand why she can't go to school. "It isn't even summer yet, mom. It's not time for me to be done with preschool."

My momma heart is sad for my daughter. And my teacher heart is sad, and worried, for all my kids.

My girls are "living their best lives" right now - playing outside, enjoying our animals, snacking way too often, playing all the things, getting extra Mom snuggles, watching movies, playing games. They are learning like crazy from home, and because they are little enough for learning to feel like play - they don't even know how much of what we are doing is learning (win win!).

I am blessed, and thankful, to be able to give Lydia pretty much anything she needs right now. But what I can't give her? Her normal back.

I can't walk her to class to hug Mrs. Cindy. She can't swing by the library under the guise of turning in books for me to sneak a hug from our librarians. She can't catch Mrs. Debra and Mrs. Salter in the hall for hugs on her way to class. She can't peek in to Ms. Jen's room to pester her for candy wave at her after school. I can't let her play with her friends at recess. All the stories she has at the end of every day about all her classmates and who did what? I can't recreate those for her right now. And she misses every single bit of it.

She's too smart to be fooled ... she knows it isn't summer. It isn't time for this extra home time and separation. She isn't taking a break to prep for Kindergarten, she's simply missing preschool.

She's 5. And she knows and feels all these things. So what about my school kiddos? My 10 year olds who also know and feel all these things? Who know what they are missing and yet can't quite understand all the parts of it? The kids who are even more socially connected than Lydia? The kids who depend on their friends?

I am all about building the family unit and I am not sad my kiddos who have great families are getting extra family time - that part I'm happy about. I hope they are making extra crafts, playing a few extra video games, figuring out how to get along with siblings, reading with little brothers, brushing little sisters hair, pestering older siblings as only "littles" can .... I hope they are using this time as a recharge and finding creative, fun outlets. I hope they are playing family board games and watching movies together. I hope they are learning how to help cook, do laundry, and all those other things they will never learn in my classroom.

But I know....
I know some of them are missing a safe place.
I know some of them are a bit more hungry.
I know most of them are missing their teachers and the positive adult relationships  (because more positive relationships is  always better).
I know all of them are missing their friends (because even for those who can text, it's not the same).
I know all of them are trying to adjust to a different (or lack of) routine, and adjustments are hard.
I know all of them are struggling to understand this situation.
I know all of them are feeling - and even grieving - a loss of normal.

A majority of our kids are stuck somewhere in the middle of understanding enough of what is going on that you cannot fool them or shelter them and yet not understanding enough to be able to rationalize it all. They may not be able to express their thoughts or feelings. They may not be able to understand their thoughts and feelings. They may just fall apart every time "schoolwork" is mentioned (ahem - Lydia) ... not because of the schoolwork, but because of what it represents and reminds them of.

So, when you're praying for our leaders and our country and our world ... don't forget to pray for our kiddos, too. Pray for their comfort and peace. Pray for their parents to be able to help them and provide them all they need. And pray for a quick return to normal, for their sakes. Because kids, even the quiet ones, feel big, big feelings even during normal times. And times like these? They'll be feeling the biggest ones they know.