Posted in Faith Nuggets, Thoughts, Thoughts from Others, Thoughts from Scripture

Sacrificial Rest

 Such a timely reminder, as we are, once again, deep into the holiday season and all of the interactions it can bring!

The holiday season is upon us! As an introverted homebody, sometimes the busyness of this season throws me for a loop. I do love it. I love the decorations and the celebrations. I enjoy the parties and the events, even if I sometimes have to pry myself out of the warm house to attend them.

But I also need rest. And I am not quite sure I like the next lesson God has been teaching me about rest. You see, in addition to learning that rest is relational and expected, I am also learning that rest is sacrificial.

I have always been pretty selfish about rest. My opinion has always been that I need it, and I need it my way or it doesn’t count. But when my husband and I had a conversation about a couple of passages of Scripture, I found my selfishness challenged.

In Acts 16:13, we see Paul heading down to the riverside in hopes of meeting people gathered there to pray. I have never though much about that action until Doug made a thought-provoking observation. He pointed out that Paul’s trip outside the city on the Sabbath was a sacrificial act. It was outside his norm. It was outside the parameters of rest he had been taught during his formative years.

Paul made a sacrifice.

So, where was he when he made this sacrifice? He was in Philippi. He was making the contacts that would eventually result in the Philippian church. The same Philippian church that brought him incredible joy, according to verses like Philippians 1:3. In fact, it could be argued from Scripture that this particular church provided Paul’s greatest source of strength and encouragement.

But it all started with a sacrifice.

One of my favorite verses is Hebrews 3:13.

But encourage each other daily, while it is still called today, so that none of you is hardened by sin’s deception. (CSB)

I have always loved the idea of encouragement among believers. But, as I look at Paul’s sacrificial investment in the Philippian church – and the return it brought – I see Hebrews 3:13 in a new light. I see that we receive our greatest encouragement, strength, and support when we are willing to sacrifice for one another, even in rest.

Now, sacrificial rest does require care because it still must be rest. It cannot become just another source of busyness. But, what would happen if we were willing to put aside our selfish conceptions of rest and determine instead to rest in fellowship with our fellow believers?

As the busy schedule presses in, I pray God will show me exactly how to rest sacrificially – and that He will allow even my rest to bear the fruit of joy and encouragement for others.

This is part three of the Rest series, originally published in Arkansas Baptist News.

Posted in Marriage

Pruning or Chopping?

This is another old post that I’m republishing. I’ll say more about it at the end.

I’ve always loved hydrangeas. They fascinate me. I’m typically not a flower gal. I’m not great at keeping plants alive anyway, and as pretty as flowers are, I just don’t have what it takes to maintain them.

Black irises and hydrangeas are the exception. Black irises grew wild in Jordan, and we would go on wild flower hunting trips every spring, coming home with trunks full of irises and poppies. So, although I have not yet managed to get mine to bloom, I’m still determined to successfully grow and tend black irises.

Hydrangeas are another story completely. They fascinate me because of their color. So many little things can affect the appearance of the flower – sometimes with multiple colors growing on a single bush! I’ve always wanted to try to grow hydrangeas, but have just never gotten around to it.

Needless to say, I was quite excited to discover two large hydrangea bushes in the back yard of our new house.

The only problem with the bushes was that they’d been untended for quite some time. For a couple of months, we tried to just trim out dead branches, tackle the weeds and vines, and help the bushes thrive again.

But, ultimately, we had to give up. Over the weekend, we realized that all we could do was cut down the bushes and plan to start from scratch.

It was so sad. But, the more we worked, the more we saw that the problem was too big to tackle any other way. Parasitic vines had wound their roots all around the bushes. So many dead branches protruded from one bush that it was hard to find the source of the live branches. And weeds we couldn’t even begin to see before we chopped began to reveal themselves.

We also discovered that it wasn’t just two bushes. Four bushes – two large and two small – were actually planted there. The small ones were so overwhelmed by the larger ones and the weeds that they could hardly grow – and definitely could not grow straight!

Yes, the destruction was necessary.

I’ve heard that hydrangea bushes will regrow after a couple of years. Maybe these will survive. Maybe they won’t. But they’d gotten to the point that they could no longer be maintained as they were.

Are we careful to keep our marriages from reaching that point?

We tend the growth, but do we make sure to actively work against the harmful things? Do we trim out dead branches of anger, bitterness, frustration, and dissatisfaction? Do we actively combat the weeds of distraction, disillusionment, and temptation? Or do we just try to nourish the good and ignore everything else?

Marriages, like plants, must be tended. And they cannot be tended in a tunnel-visioned manner. We have to actively combat the negative as strongly as we nourish the beautiful. We can’t ignore it. We can’t hide it. We have to deal with it.

Neglect eventually catches up to us. And when it does, the work needed to overcome the neglect can often leave us chopping our marriages down to the roots. As we chop, we discover just what damage we’ve done to those around us, like our children, forcing them to grow oddly because of the strain our neglect has put on them.

And the more we have to chop, the more uncertain our future becomes. Will our marriages regrow? Or will they die?

Let’s not neglect the issues that pop up in our relationships, issues that will force drastic measures later. Let’s instead tend our marriages now, pruning and weeding to keep them growing healthy and strong.

What tending do you need to do this week?

I wrote this post years ago, just a few months after we moved into our second purchased home. I’m happy to say that the hydrangeas in question not only survived, they exploded with growth the very next spring! The same hope exists for marriages, sometimes even those that seem to have endured too much neglect to ever truly recover. While marriages are obviously much more complex (and abusive neglect changes the discussion completely), I have seen this miracle happen with them as well. It is a beautiful sight.

Posted in Marriage

Just Because

Once upon a time, I wrote a post about marriage every Monday. I found this one today and thought I’d honor that old Marriage Monday tradition this week.

My husband is the king of “just because” moments – those little moments when there’s no real reason to celebrate, give a gift, or do something out of the ordinary. He just acts out of love.

I’m not so great at those moments. I tend to be more of a planner and need a reason or an occasion to motivate me to action. That’s an area I want to grow, though. I want to be more about the “just because” actions.

So, why are those moments so important? Because they show that we’re thinking of each other. They are tangible proof that our relationship goes beyond just the normal facts of married life. Our marriage is not just about going through the daily routine, parenting our kids, and putting up with each other. It’s about being a picture of Christ’s relationship with us.

And, let me tell you, my friends. There are many things the Lord does in our lives “just because.”

Just because they help us bring glory to Him.
Just because they fill us with joy.
Just because they teach us to know Him better.
Just because they bounce through our lives to impact others, drawing them into the kingdom.

Yes, marriage is a picture of all of that.

Suddenly, those little “just because” moments become far more important, don’t they? Those moments in which we are wide open in our love for our spouses. Those moments in which we display that love before the world. Those moments that are not about bragging but are about being true and real and honest.

I love seeing husbands and wives sitting close together, holding hands in public, or fully engaged in delightful conversation. I love seeing them drawn together like a magnet. There’s little more beautiful than the sight of a husband’s face lighting up when he sees his wife or a wife’s expression when she’s about to explode with pride for her husband.

Those are “just because” moments that shine.

Creating a marriage that reflects Christ, thus fulfilling marriage’s true purpose, is not an easy task. But, it can start with something as simple as being intentional about “just because” moments.

How can you be intentional this week?

Posted in What Works for Me

What Works for Me

I got caught up in a variety of tasks this morning and ran out of writing time. But, in an effort to keep up the habit (more on that to come), I took enough time to review and update another old post to republish and share. So, here you go!

The more I have delved into the worlds of ministry and homeschooling, the more I have seen a certain truth reveal itself: What works for you just might not work for me.

We love to give advice. When someone has a problem, we are quick to share the perfect solution. After all, it worked perfectly for me. Doesn’t that mean it will work perfectly for everyone?

What we forget is that we are not a one-size-fits-all people. We are unique by design. As a result, one solution will not fit every single one of us. In fact, very often one solution will fit, well, one of us.

That produces quite the conundrum. If what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa), then I suppose we can never help one another!

Fortunately, that supposition is far from true. We can help one another. We just have to know how. As we dole out “helpful” advice, the most important thing to remember is that all situations are different. That realization needs to form the foundation for all advice that we give.

So, what do we do with this realization? How can it truly shape the advice we give? Here are some tips I have learned:

Explain why it works for me.

Over the years, I’ve written a lot of reviews, blog posts, and articles that offer information about a product or method. Each time I dive into this style of writing, I try to start with a little “insider” information. I don’t share my life story, but I do give enough information about my circumstances to allow readers to discern how their situation or personality might relate to or differ from mine. They can then make mental adjustments as they read. This can just as easily be accomplished with spoken and informal advice.

Learn to pay attention to how the recipient of the advice is different.

I have learned just how important it is to be personal and relational, truly listening to people and where they are before I dish out advice. (Okay, so I’ve learned how important it is to do this; I’m not always great at following through with it. I’m learning.) Only then can I clearly see the ways in which what works for me needs to be adjusted before the advice can be useful to the recipient.

Don’t take it personally when advice is not taken or does not work.

I am still learning to repeat to myself, “What works for me might not work for them.” It’s not only okay, it’s good.

Receiving Help

But, there is another side to all of this. There is the receiving end. Though many of us prefer to give advice than to receive it, we are often are in need of what others have to share. So, how can we receive help with both wisdom and grace?

Do not take advice at face value.

No successes are accomplished simply by formula – there are always other, often unnoticed, factors involved. What other factors were involved in your friend’s success story? How do those factors relate to your situation? What changes might you need to make to act on the advice you are given?

Determine to prayerfully consider the advice given.

Often we listen with a smile on our faces, respond that it sounds like a good idea, and walk away with no intention of actually following through with the advice. Why? Because we all have that tinge of pride, be it ever so small, that makes us shy away from acting on the advice of others.

We may or may not actually use the advice, but let’s not allow pride to be the reason. Let it be because it really won’t work for us. Prayerfully consider. Hold it up to Scripture. Be willing to consider.

We are a community, whether we like it or not. A community helps. May we be willing to both give and receive with more grace, wisdom, and discernment!

Posted in Thoughts from Life, Thoughts from Scripture

The Heart of a Friend

Some days, my heart is just heavy.

A part of me wants to just bury my head in the sand and ignore all of the yuck. But, in doing so, I end up trading sadness for naiveté, and that won’t do me any good either. My best choice is to sit with my heavy heart and ask God to speak into it.

And when I choose to sit with Him, He does speak, so very faithfully. He shows me Himself and His own heart while also showing me the areas in which my heart does not align with His. He shows me where, as I grow to better see and identify with His heart of love for those in this world who do not yet know Him, I’ve also been growing in bitterness toward those who are blocking that love. Those whose words and actions drive souls away from our Savior instead of toward Him.

He’s shown me that none of them are to be my enemies.

The things He’s shown me have led me to ponder what it means to have the heart of a friend. The heart of someone who grieves over another’s pain. The heart of someone who is pained by injustice. The heart of someone who aches over the reality that so many in this world are caught up in the hands of evil. The heart of someone who takes all of those realities to the Lord God Almighty, seeking His perspective, His heart, and His miraculous path to both justice and mercy.

This is where I struggle. This is where I’m convicted. Portions of the Sermon on the Mount speak into that conviction:

You have heard that it was said, An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. But I tell you, don’t resist an evildoer. On the contrary, if anyone slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also. As for the one who wants to sue you and take away your shirt, let him have your coat as well. And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two. Give to the one who asks you, and don’t turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you.

You have heard that it was said, Love your neighbor and hate your enemy. But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven. For he causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward will you have? Don’t even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what are you doing out of the ordinary? Don’t even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.
Matthew 5: 38-48 (CSB)

As I read this recently, a question popped into my head: If my dearest friend had a need, how would I want to meet it? I would want to go over and above. I would want to lavish not only the need but any extra possible. I might not always be able to, but I want to. That’s my heart.

What if I viewed everyone that way? What if I made that the practical application of these verses from Matthew 5? To go above and beyond in my care and concern for all I come in contact with?

Much of the heaviness on my heart has been there for years now as I’ve watched people on all political sides sling mud on social media with such vitriol as they slam anyone who doesn’t love their favorite politician (or worse, does love “the other guy”). This is nothing new. It’s been going on for decades. It’s just so much more visible and available with social media.

It was there as I watched the hatred flow from all sides during the pandemic. It’s there every time a non-Christian publicly acts like, well, a non-Christian and Christians yell about being persecuted.

Every time someone else does something we don’t like, we use it as an opportunity to gripe, complain, degrade, and label. We forget that we’re supposed to be different. We forget that when we join in the flow of anger and hatred, we are not doing anything out of the ordinary. We are no different from the “Gentiles” we so greatly hate.

And yet, we’re commanded to be “perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”

To treat all people as we would treat our dearest friend. To pray for them. To serve them. To love them.

Some days, I struggle to love those who hate Christ. Other days I struggle to love those who claim Christ but show hatred to their fellow man. Some days I just struggle to love them all. But Jesus Christ, Almighty Creator of all things, the one who loved so enormously that He gave His life for all of us, commands me to be like Him.

That’s my hunger, to obey and love like He did. Not to try to voice my opinion in an argument or get other people to think like me or make sure to let them know how wrong they are. Instead, to pray that they, too, will know His love. That they will see His heart. That they will hunger for His presence.

I’m far from perfect yet. But that’s my goal. And I’m so thankful for the love of the One who can so fill me with Himself that He can help me reach that goal.

The Christian Standard Bible. Copyright © 2017 by Holman Bible Publishers. Used by permission. Christian Standard Bible®, and CSB® are federally registered trademarks of Holman Bible Publishers, all rights reserved.
Posted in Thoughts from Life

The Art of Growing

I’ve been thinking a lot about growth lately.

Part of it is spurred by the growth of my children, especially considering my youngest just became a legal adult and joined his sister at college.

Reviewing old blog posts has also spurred some of my thoughts as I’ve seen growth in my perceptions, mental processes, spiritual understanding, and even prejudices.

It’s all making me realize just how disdainfully we view growth sometimes. Think about how teenagers scoff at some of their own prior passions and interests, calling them childish. Think about how we sometimes find ourselves ashamed or embarrassed of how we used to be.

I think we’re wrong.

Just as we would never disdain an infant’s crawling phase now that they can walk or run or drive, perhaps should stop viewing some of our growing phases with disdain. Yes, I know that our growth is a bit different. I know that there are times when we realize that our previously deeply held beliefs and convictions were not just immature, they were wrong. I recognize that there are things we’ve confessed that we’d rather just leave behind.

But, sometimes instead of leaving them behind, we pretend they never existed. We act as if we never had to learn how to crawl in order to be able to run.

What if we were to celebrate spiritual, mental, and emotional growth just like we celebrate the amazing growth of an infant into a toddler and beyond? What if we were to process every aspect of our growth, the good and the bad and everything in between, as necessary components of who we are today? What if we were to see growth as an art form — a painting or sculpture developing over time with increasing complexity? With oopses and mistakes that needed to be corrected, yes, but with the understanding that even those mistakes spurred ideas and shaped the lines and curves that produced beauty?

What if we were to participate in the art of growing rather than hiding the process? What would that look like?

First, I think it would look like being honest about our growth. An example for me is some of those old blog posts. I started writing publicly when my youngest was a newborn, nearly 18 years ago. Some of the things I wrote were just plain wrong. In some instances, I wrote out of idealism. Ignorance. Naiveté. In others, I wrote out of stubbornness. Frustration. Hurt. Anger. All of those experiences and feelings and spaces of understanding meant that many times I was wrong. Not always. Not even usually. Much of what I wrote I still identify with, even if some of it is now outdated and irrelevant. But sometimes I was wrong or, at the very least, undeveloped or immature. I need to be okay with that. To be able to admit it, to be thankful for growth, and to learn from those experiences

Second, it would look like celebrating the things that have brought us where we are today. I can’t help but picture all of the building blocks of what I know now, even with the hits and misses and stumbles along the way. All of those times of falling when I was just trying to take a few steps forward, all of those times of being knocked down, make up the growth process. I would not be who I am today or know what I know now without all of them. Yes, even the times when I was just plain wrong.

Finally, it would look like sharing the process with one another instead of denying it, but doing so in a way that never shames someone else. There are other people walking through what I walked through 18 years ago. They are learning what I learned then. As I am being honest about ways that I was wrong then — and all through my learning process (And this will include things that I’m wrong about now that I’ll have to confess later, because I know those things exist even if I can’t see them right now!) — I have to be careful to not beat down someone who hasn’t yet been through the growing process. This doesn’t mean I can’t help them learn from my mistakes. But, I must never use my honesty to shame someone else on their journey, only to help them. Only and always.

Growing hurts. Growing involves times we are not going to be proud of. But growing is also art. It’s creation. It’s beauty. Shall we celebrate it together?

Posted in Thoughts from Life

Those Who Sit Alone

There’s a post going around social media that tends to show up every year about the time school starts. And it’s a good post. It talks about choosing to see and sit with the student who sits alone or doesn’t seem to talk to anyone else.

It’s beautiful advice, for people of all ages — yes, even us adults. But it’s also incomplete.

Here’s the thing. That teen who sits alone and doesn’t seem to talk to anyone does so because they don’t really “get” small talk. They don’t want to force themselves into a group. They want to be heard, but if they have to force others to listen, it’s not worth it.

That person who finds a seat in the back on the bus, sits alone in the cafeteria, or engages in some other solitary activity might very well be lonely and aching for someone to come and initiate the conversation. Other days, though, they are intentionally choosing to be alone because they need to have a few minutes of energizing time before getting to school, while transitioning between classes, or before expending social energy.

None of those are character flaws, nor are they deficiencies that have to be solved. They are just differences in personality and character. And, to be honest, there are more people like that than you might think.

It’s good to go and sit with them. It’s good to go and make them feel seen. But, when you do go and sit with them, it’s important that you don’t expect them to suddenly become just like you. Also know that you’re not engaging in a once-and-done kind of action that will magically change a person’s life. If you’re going to go sit with someone, go with the intention of exploring a friendship, getting to know someone who’s not just like you.

And while you’re sitting, keep a few things in mind.

First, they might not know what to say, especially if you come in with the small talk. Their answers to your questions may be short and unengaging rather than naturally flowing into a conversation. They probably aren’t trying to shut you out. But, you may find a completely different scenario playing out if you prayerfully notice and ask questions about their interests rather than just trying to engage in small talk.

Second, you might have chosen to sit by them on the day they need to be alone rather than the day they are feeling lonely and are longing to be noticed. You probably won’t know until you try to talk to them. (Unless they are reading a book. If they’re reading, chances are they need the alone time!) If they don’t respond or engage, don’t get angry. Instead, take the opportunity to learn what it means to be comfortable sitting with someone in silence. Just letting them know that you care about their presence. That goes a long way toward showing that you want to be a friend. Oh, and don’t give up. Try again another day.

Which leads to the next thought to remember. Realize that the single act of going to sit with someone one day will not automatically inform them that they are invited to come sit with you the next day. Be willing to not only go sit with them but also to invite them to come sit with you, not just once but again and again. Let them know that your actions aren’t just about walking away from your norm to spend a moment with them, although that is an amazing treasure and gift. But, they also need to know that you are not ashamed to include them in your space. With your people. It may take a while for them to know that you truly want to spend time with them. If you are not persistent, they’re probably going to assume that you were just being nice for a day, not that you really want to get to know them or include them.

If you do invite them into your space with your people, help them feel seen. When group chatter is happening, intentionally ask for their input. They won’t jump in and give it. They’ll sit quietly, even in a group. And guess what? That’s okay. Some people just need to be with others. They don’t always need to be talking. Even so, ask for their input. Seek to include them in the conversation. But understand that just being actively included is a good thing, too.

Sitting with the person who typically sits alone and talking to the person who is quiet are both beautiful acts of interest and inclusion. But just remember that, when doing so, you’re not working to fix a broken person. You’re instead choosing to get to know someone who isn’t just like you. You aren’t changing them. You’re changing how you view them. You aren’t stepping up to be a hero for a day. You’re discovering what it’s like to expend the effort necessary to build a relationship that doesn’t come naturally.

And while you’re sitting, especially if you follow through and sit day after day after day, you might just discover what it means to build some of the deepest relationships you’ve ever known.

Posted in Thoughts from Life

I Was Wrong

Have you ever noticed how some words are so hard to say? You may know them to be true beyond all shadow of a doubt. But actually saying words verbally or writing them publicly moves truth from an idea to an action, something that you are putting your identity and reputation behind.

I love you holds specific connotation in our culture, and speaking those words out loud marks the speaker in a very specific manner.

I need goes against the core mentality of rugged individualism or the false mantra that God helps those who help themselves. We all need, yet we fear showing weakness by verbally admitting that need.

I am sorry admits that we have caused hurt. We struggle to let go of our intentions long enough to admit that others can be harmed by our words and actions — yes, sometimes even when we believe we have said or done the right thing.

One of the hardest things to say, though, can often be I was wrong.

I’ve been wrong many times in my life, but I also have a personality strongly inclined toward perfectionism. I vividly remember being a child who identified “wrong” as “bad.” If I was wrong, I was imperfect, and therefore I was a bad person. Not just a growing person who had made a mistake or a bad decision. Nope. A bad person to the core. And if I was wrong, and therefore by nature bad, how could people love me? How could my parents tolerate me? How could God desire to claim me? How would I ever have friends or eventually find a man who would be willing to be married to me if I was a bad person? Therefore, I had to be right. Yes, even as a child who had so very much to learn. Because otherwise I was doomed.

Typing those words, I realized how extreme and unrealistic they seem, yet I was well into my adult years before I began to even make the smallest steps toward clearing these thought processes from my mind. (And no, I have not fully succeeded, even knowing what I know today.)

It started with needing to learn how to say the words I was wrong to my husband and children, admitting to them where I’d failed them. In the process, a miracle happened. The thing I’d always feared, that admitting being wrong would drive people to hate me, was actually revealed to be the opposite of the truth. Refusing to admit my imperfection is what drove people away. Admitting when I was wrong actually bound us closer together! (No, I don’t always do this well. Sometimes I’m still pretty bad at it. But I’m learning and growing!)

Funny, isn’t it, that I had to admit to being wrong about a core belief — the idea that being wrong meant I was bad and unlovable — in order to learn that it’s a good thing to admit to being wrong? And that admission has led me to let go of a variety of other long-held, but incorrect, beliefs.

There’s one thing I’ve never been wrong about, though: the truth of Jesus Christ. At times I’ve been wrong about my understanding of Him. I’ve been wrong about some of my interpretations of His Word. I’ve been wrong about some theological understandings and about some of the traditional beliefs I’ve claimed without truly holding them up to the light of Scripture.

But each time I’ve admitted to being wrong in those areas, the Holy Spirit has used that admission to draw me closer to the truth. To give me a heightened understanding of God.

In the process, He’s also given me a greater passion to share His truth with the world around me. Because I hunger for them to see that the sacrifice of Jesus Christ allows them to know God, too! To know truth so they can walk in righteousness!

The problem is that fear tries to temper my passion to share. What if I say the wrong thing…again? How can others trust me to tell them about the Word of God if I don’t know perfectly yet?

In addition to learning to admit when I’ve been wrong, I’ve also had to learn to go ahead and share what I know now. I’ve had to learn to openly admit that what I say is based on what I understand now, but that I hope to be always growing until my understanding is made complete in eternity. This is a great opportunity to encourage others to learn and grow for themselves. To study and explore and find out for themselves whether or not I’m right (and to come back and share with me!).

It’s liberating, to be honest. I can be wrong!

I do still struggle. I’d be lying if I said otherwise. I still hate to be wrong. I still fear what people will think of me if I admit to being wrong. But I have also learned the freedom of that admission, and the freedom is gradually holding more sway over my actions.

Only Jesus Himself was never wrong. I hunger to be more like Him every day. But in the process, I’ll point to His righteousness and be thankful that He covers me, even when I’m wrong.

Posted in Thoughts from Life

5 Simple Steps

Recently someone I knew recommended an article as “good” and “helpful.” It was on a topic of interest to me, discussing an area where I have been seeking to grow, so I went ahead and clicked the link. And I was immediately deflated and reminded why I don’t typically click such links.

Oh, the suggestions in it were accurate. They were all things you should do. But they were all the most basic suggestions imaginable. The obvious. The starting point. They weren’t suggestions for those who were actually struggling to find encouragement and guidance in the work itself.

Imagine it this way.

You are trying to give someone guidance on how to learn to cook, so you give them these five pointers:

  • Gain access to a kitchen.
  • Make sure the kitchen is stocked well with pots, pans, sturdy cooking utensils, and a good set of knives.
  • Always have salt and pepper on hand, and consider a few additional spices.
  • Find a recipe you want to prepare and go grocery shopping.
  • Make sure you set out all of your ingredients and supplies before starting to cook.

All of those tips are accurate, right? But, do they really teach someone to cook? Even if you were to add a paragraph under each point, ensuring more clarity about what it meant to be “stocked well” or what to pay attention to when seeking recipes, there is still so much lacking. This doesn’t teach someone how to cook. At all. In fact, an individual who had never cooked before would probably be headed for disaster if this were their sole source of encouragement and instruction.

And yet, this is what we have to offer, not just for beginners but also for those veterans who find themselves stuck and in need of help. Five quick tips to ensure success in parenting, marriage, other relationships, business, ministry, homeschooling, political engagement, job hunting, navigating menopause, battling mental health…you name it. These are the suggestions handed down by the people who are successful. The people who have “made it.”

People are floundering because of it. They are discouraged and frustrated. They feel like failures because they’ve tried all the best tips and still can’t seem to figure things out. They have believed the lie that they can never be successful simply because they can’t take these five simple tips handed out by the “experts” and produce a five-star meal.

I’ve been guilty of writing these articles just to produce content. But I’ve also been on the side of frustration and failure when the articles do nothing to really help me figure out solutions.

So, what is the solution?

Relationship. Community. Real hands-in-the-dirt work and partnership.

You see, the problem with the cooking suggestions is not that the guidance is wrong. It is instead that we have decided to give people a witty 400-800 word article instead of instruction and aid. We have chosen to keep our distance and offer our brilliant, simple points rather than walk through learning with someone. Because if we were to do that, we know we would inevitably hit upon some uncomfortable truths.

We’d see that not everyone has what we had when we were learning the same lessons. Some people are coming from very different circumstances. Others have different strengths and talents. Different skills. Different manners of thinking and approaching life.

And that makes training messy. It means that it’s not a one-size fits-all proposition. And it means that sometimes we have to admit we don’t know all of the answers. It means that we have to recognize our own need to keep learning. We haven’t actually “made it” after all.

We don’t like to be put in that position. The 5 Simple Steps approach is so much easier.

And never successful.

We have so much more to give. Will we make the effort to build the relationships and invest the time necessary to give it?

Posted in Perspective

A Quarter of a Tank

I like word pictures. They help me take abstract thoughts and ideas and turn them into practical realizations.

Recently, something I read or heard about mental health filled my mind with a word picture that overwhelmed me with stark awareness. I don’t remember what exactly triggered the image, but I remember how powerful it was. Our society is becoming more open to discussing mental health and the impacts of anxiety, depression, and other mental health issues. Even neurodivergence is garnering more positive discussion these days. But, those who have never personally interacted with neurodivergence or mental health issues still have a hard time grasping what the challenges really look like.

That’s where word pictures can be incredibly helpful. Shall I share mine with you?

Imagine you own a car that looks great and sounds/runs fine once it’s started. But, the simple act of starting it uses up three-quarters of a tank of gas. Every. Single. Time. And, I’ll be honest, I’ve never owned a vehicle that uses that last quarter of a tank of gas as efficiently as the first quarter of a tank. So, you can’t do as much on that last quarter of a tank as you could with the first quarter of a tank were you starting from full.

Some people, especially those living day-in and day-out with depression, anxiety, or other such quiet, nearly invisible challenges are like that car. It takes 75% (if not more) of their supply of will power just to get out of bed. Then, as with a car that has to stay idling all day just so you don’t have to restart it (since you don’t have enough gas to do so), much of what’s left is consumed with trying to figure out where to even begin with the rest of the day.

It’s easy to look at that person and say, “If you would just do _____ or have _____ attitude, it would help you and you’d feel better.” But, there are a lot of ______s to do, and they add up so quickly. And that “easy” attitude adjustment requires so much energy, will power, and discipline. All of those things that should be simple are not. A healthy person can do those things and barely use up an ounce of gas. Not so for someone running on that bottom quarter of a tank. It might cost them a gallon, an incredibly high cost.

Someone in your life operates on that quarter of a tank day in and day out. Everything expected of them is extraordinarily costly. And they’re afraid that tomorrow it will take 80% of their allotment to get started, maybe even 90% by next week. So, they’re hoarding. Protecting.

I wish I could say that there was an easy fix to help them eliminate the start-up consumption, but there’s not. Eventually, some of them can find ways to improve their car’s efficiency or even get a new car. But for now, they’re just doing the best they can, and they’re doing it with the assumption that their struggle is not going to be understood. That they’re just going to be handed “simple” solutions from a society that wants them to pull it together and just be “normal.”

Maybe there is a better option. Maybe instead of feeling like someone who needs to be fixed, they simply need to feel seen and understood. Who knows what that simple act of understanding can accomplish?