The Key To Happiness - Guaranteed (Part 1 of 2)

There once was a baby born into a homesteading family in a cabin in Wyoming.  He was welcomed by his mother and several siblings, but he arrived too early.  He was so tiny, I’m told, that he fit inside a shoebox.  They called the local doctor to come see him, and they were told he wouldn’t survive... that they should leave him by the fire to keep him as warm as possible and wait for him to die.  They didn’t.  

He survived his traumatic birth and early years as a preemie in a day and age when premature babies didn’t often survive.  If only his birth had been the most traumatic event he was destined to endure.  When he reached the age of 13 or so, his mother died of a heart attack, and he was left in the care of the man who had been a father to him in name only.  His father, by all accounts, was a philandering drifter who had little parental instinct, it would seem.  When it came time for his father to parent him, his father had other ideas.  He farmed the boy out to anyone who would take him, and he ended up in abusive situations more often than not.  Small in stature (likely because of being a preemie and as a result of a rough bout with polio at age 5), the boy was unable to rightly defend himself most of the time.  Despite all of these things, his will to survive was as strong as the day he was born. 

As he grew, he had various jobs - driving cattle, horse jockeying, and eventually landed a job in the Illinois prison system in Chicago.  He eloped with a sweet, young girl when he was 21 (and she 16).  When they settled into a household, she became pregnant.  She suffered many (sometimes life-threatening) miscarriages around and about when my mother and her sister were born.  

My grandpa’s dad drifted in and out (mostly out) of his adult life - only showing up when he needed something - to use his son’s good nature for his own selfish gain.  As my great-grandfather neared the end of his days, he showed up on the doorstep of this son (who had barely known him) and moved in with him and his young family.  My mother has a few fond memories of this time, but she recalls to me her most pronounced memory - that he liked to show her a wad of cash that he carried with him.  (He was known to show off money when he had it.)  Those are her few memories of (what seems to me to have been) her greedy, selfish grandfather.  

These are memories that I have gathered from conversations I’ve heard and overheard, things I’ve heard many different people say, and many of them are second, third, or fourth hand... tainted by years of bitterness, I might assume.  The details are likely subjective, and I have my own thoughts on the matters as well.  However, as my grandpa's last sibling died this week, these things have made me think about something.  

There is one social tool more valuable, more important, more underestimated, and more misunderstood than any other in humanity’s “toolbox”.  This tool will give you all the things you’ve searched for in vain:  longer life, better health, lasting relationships, lots of friends, not to mention the ever-illusive peace of mind we all search for (often in vain).  It is a tool I use often, a tool I need people to use in dealing with me, and a tool I teach my children diligently, because I know they will and do need it often.  It is FORGIVENESS, and, when properly applied, it will change your life.

There is a lot of misunderstanding when it comes to forgiveness.  Some of us think that forgiveness is when someone says, “I’m sorry,” and you say, “It’s okay,” and you both go on your way.  Others of us think that it is “forgive and forget” - a way of forgetting what a person did to you so that you can both be happy again - a kind of “sweeping under the rug” of an incident or incidences in order to gain peace, but, let’s face it, forgetting is mostly impossible aside from severe blow to the head.  I submit to you a few things for your consideration about the topic of forgiveness and, more importantly, HOW TO FULLY ACHIEVE IT.

WHY FORGIVE?

1.  Because you need forgiveness.  (Matthew 8:21-35)

Last time I checked, none of us are perfect.  Even in the Lord’s prayer (Matthew 6:12), Jesus adds, “Forgives us our debts as we forgive our debtors.”  Now Jesus, of course, had no debts - had not sinned against anyone.  His words literally mean that we are to ask God to forgive us our sins in the same way (by the same measure) that we forgive others.  If we want full forgiveness (which we need to feel absolved and guilt-free), we need to also grant full forgiveness.

2.  Because it’s good for your health

I won’t go into all of the health benefits of forgiveness, but if you Google “forgiveness and health”, you’ll come across publications by most of the great medical minds of today (Mayo Clinic, Harvard Health, Arthritis.org, etc.) all agreeing that forgiveness helps chronic illnesses from arthritis to heart problems to blood pressure problems, etc.

3. God tells us we must forgive (Col. 3:13, Luke 6:37, Matthew 6:14-16).  
He doesn’t do this to be mean or unreasonable.  He does it to do what He is in the business of doing... SAVING us.  He knows that unforgiveness is a bitter poison that we drink  hoping the other person dies.  He knows it is essential for our happiness and health that we let go of what has hurt us and let Him handle it.  If you have more than one child in your house, you have experienced children fighting.  When they come to you angry at one another and you work to reconcile their differences, you can’t sort things out between them (or deal out justice) until they stop being at each other’s throats.  God is the author of justice, and He sees and is concerned with wrongs that are done to us.  We can trust that He will handle these things with justice in His time.  What’s more, when we’ve truly forgiven, we find we no longer care if God punishes the other person, and may even move to a merciful mind ourselves.

WHAT FORGIVENESS IS:

A choice not to hold another person responsible for an actual sin done to me.

WHAT FORGIVENESS IS NOT:

1.  Forgiving is not EASY

When I think about what Jesus went through to achieve forgiveness for me, it would be silly for me to think that forgiving someone else should be easy.  Will I too have to die?  Yes.  To myself... my wants, my desires, and my desire to control and punish others.  Will I live?  Yes, and more abundantly than I thought possible before.  I used to think that forgiveness went something like this prayer, “Lord, help me forgive ____ for ____. Amen.”  Done and dusted.  If only it were that easy.  It is not a prayer or a hope that I can do something I clearly cannot do in human strength.  

2.  Forgiving is not FORGETTING

If something hurts, I would be ill-advised (and quite possibly stupid) to forget that it ever hurt.  What would happen to me?  I’d get hurt again - maybe even worse.  The same thing applies to emotional hurt.  When a person hurts me, it’s not safe for me to try to forget that hurt.  It is, however, healthy for me to FORGIVE that hurt... for my sake.  

3.  Forgiving is not “IT’S OKAY”

You must remember that it is not ever okay for someone to sin against you - no matter who they are or how you treated them first or how you retaliated.  Those things do have bearing on whether or not you should seek the other’s forgiveness, but they do not determine whether or not a wrong done to you was really wrong.  You must first acknowledge that, however minor, a sin done to you was wrong... whether you feel currently hurt by it or not.  

4.  Forgiving is not a ATM (Automatic Trust Mechanism)

Just because you forgive someone, does not mean you should trust that person.  Trust works like dominoes.  If you’ve ever built a train of dominoes around a room, you know that if you knock even one over (accidentally or on purpose) the whole train goes over from that point back.  If you push that domino back up into place, do the others all go back up again?  No.  Even if you’ve built trust with a person for years, if one thing happens to break that trust, it’s broken from that point back.  Rebuilding that trust takes meticulous, careful re-stacking.  It doesn’t automatically happen, even if the wrong that broke the trust was righted.

5.  Forgiving is not a vehicle for God’s vengeance to be unleashed.

When you forgive someone solely based on the hope that God will punish that person, your motive is wrong and will doubtfully be rewarded by the merciful God that forgives you each day.  Our motives for forgiving others must be based in our desire to be obedient to God and our desire to be free from the burden of bitterness.

WHAT FORGIVENESS REQUIRES:

1.  A desire to be free from anger, bitterness, or resentment

2.  A choice to give up any right you feel you have to take revenge

3.  Faith in God

WHAT FORGIVENESS DOES NOT REQUIRE:

1.  Fairy dust

2.  A magic wand

3.  A sweet disposition

4.  A loving and tender heart

5.  A weak personality

6.  Stupidity

WHAT REQUIRES FORGIVENESS?  

1.  Sin

There are many people who think that every time they get angry with someone else, they need to forgive that person.  That’s simply not true.  If that were the case, some of us would spend most of our lives working through forgiveness - while others of us may rarely think of it.  We are offended day after day, but very few of those offenses actually involved a sin against us.  What kinds of sins require our forgiveness, and what should we ask for forgiveness for?  Betrayal, lying, anger, stealing, adultery, slander/gossip, judging, hatred, and anything else listed specifically in the Bible as wrong.  Why do I use the standard of the Bible instead of the standard of my own feelings?  Because my feelings make me “god” of my life and I determine people’s “sins” based on my own sense of right and wrong (which is often more wrong than right).  The only clear standard of whether or not I’ve been wronged is the Bible.

WHAT DOES NOT REQUIRE FORGIVENESS? (Keys to happiness in #1-2)

1.  Unmet Standards

Many times I feel that someone should or should not act a certain way or do a certain thing to me or someone else.  When a person breaks my “standards” that determine what his/her behavior should be, I become angry with that person (or annoyed or frustrated).  An example of this would be:  “I feel that everyone in the group should have helped set up chairs for the meeting and stay after to help clean up, but ____ didn’t do his/her part, and that made me have to do extra work!”  Society has some unwritten rules and standards, but unless everyone agrees that they understand and will abide by those rules, they are simply standards that we would like to see followed but are not “sin” if not followed.  The phrase “supposed to” would be an indicator of whether or not I have a standard for someone else’s behavior.  When a person does not meet my standards, I do NOT need to forgive that person.  I need to drop my standard for his/her behavior and move on without a grudge.

2.  Unmet Expectations/Hopes/Desires

Similar to standards, unmet expectations are a source of major problems for many relationships.  Expectations are when we “hope” or “think” something will happen, but it doesn’t happen.  An example of an expectation would be:  “I hoped my husband would notice that the garbage needed to be taken out today, and he didn’t.  He never remembers it!  Week after week, I hope, and week after week I’m disappointed.”  Expectations are just another example of our desire to control our circumstances.  When I notice I have an expectation, I should drop it before it even takes root and becomes something on which I hang any hopes.  That way, I’m not disappointed, and I certainly don’t have anything to forgive.  On a side note, God outlined His standards/expectations for us very clearly in writing.  If we’ve not done that with those around us (and we shouldn’t, because we’re not God and have no right to control others), then we have no right to expect that those people should know, much less measure up to, our unwritten code for their behavior.  

3.  Hurt Feelings

We all know people who are tough as nails - never seem to get their feelings hurt.  We also know people who are the opposite end of the spectrum - with feelings like glass and who seem to get hurt by almost nothing at all.  This tells us one thing about feelings - they’re subjective.  By that, I mean that every person has a different measure by which their feelings get hurt.  Therefore, unless my hurt feelings are based on an actual sin that a person did to me, they need not be forgiven.  Hurt feelings are most often based in unmet standards or expectations listed above.  Example 1: “ _____ didn’t come to my bridal shower, and I thought we were good friends.  That hurts my feelings.”  (This does not need forgiveness, because it’s not a sin for someone to miss a social engagement.)  Example 2:  “_____ promised me he would pick up our son to take him to the movies, but he never showed.”  (This requires forgiveness, because of the lie involved in the person who gave her word not following through on this word.)  

WHO DO I NEED TO FORGIVE?

1.  Past, Present, Future

Forgiveness isn’t a one-time deal.  It’s an ongoing attitude.  I need to start with the past to clear out the backlog of bitterness, but I also need to forgive in the present and plan to forgive in the future.  I do not need to subject myself purposefully to persons and situations I know would hurt me, but I also need to remember that forgiveness is always a tool at my disposal if I need it.  So I shouldn’t be afraid of people or situations fearing I could be hurt, because I have a tool to help deal with that should I need it.  This can help with people who have social anxiety disorders too.

2.  Forgiveness starts at home.

Family members are the ones we spend the most time with, and are also the ones who are most likely to hurt us.  I had a difficult time realizing that I would need to forgive either of my parents for anything, because I knew they had done the best they could with us kids and that they were good parents - great parents, in fact.  However, there ended up being some things that I realized needed forgiving, and this ended up being a wonderful help for our relationships.  Children, parents, siblings, cousins, etc. - all of these people need our love and forgiveness is where love starts.  We can’t truly give people full, free love if we have denied them forgiveness by our anger or by making them out to be more perfect than they are and therefore in no need of forgiveness.

3.  Self

While self is where our self-centered society would have us start with forgiveness, I feel like it’s more where we should end.  Forgiving others is way more helpful for our long-term relationships than forgiving self.  In fact, make sure that forgiving yourself is not just making excuses for wrongs you’ve done others so that you don’t have to feel bad anymore or ask their forgiveness.  You should first seek forgiveness where you have wronged others, and only then let yourself off the hook.  For the Christian, forgiving self isn’t really forgiving self - it is acknowledging (like you do for others) that God has already forgiven you by His finished death on the cross and that you don’t have a right to hold yourself guilty for something your Heavenly Father sent His Son to die for.

Now that we've covered the basics of forgiveness, the how was the most confusing part for me.  I've already said how it is not achieved, but in my next blog, I will explain how it is achieved.  

Disclaimer:  I am not an expert on any topic under the sun, but when I put into practice what I have learned about forgiveness, I experience an utter freedom I cannot fully explain.  I want the same for my children, my posterity, and for anyone else who might want it too.  I don't always practice it perfectly, however, and when I don't I usually end up doing regrettable things from which I find it very difficult  to recover.  I do know that to achieve harmony in relationships and the happiness that brings, forgiveness is the only way to bring that about, and I'm so glad I have this tool in my toolbox.

Crushed

A little while ago, Mark and I got the chance to go on a short grocery shopping/Subway "date" while the kids were occupied elsewhere.  As we walked into Subway, I noticed a man standing in line, and I turned my back toward the man in line (my front toward Mark) and whispered, "Oh!  Do you see that guy in line in front of us?  I had such a crush on that guy in high school."  He raised an eyebrow and proceeded to check the guy out.  Admittedly, the guy had seen better days (not to mention, so have I), but he had his pony tail wrapped up under a baseball cap and wore all black... a little chubbier, a little slouchier, but doubtless the same guy I remembered from some nearly 20 years ago now.  (Even as I say things like "nearly 20 years ago now, I feel I can almost hear the rattle of false teeth in the bottom of a glass of denture cleaner and get a faint whiff of rubber mixed with heated felt from the tennis balls that will be on the back two legs of my walker, but I digress.)  When I was a freshman, not to mention "jail bait", I liked the depressed, brooding, mysterious types.  He was in a band, and I think he played bass guitar.  I've never been the girl to like the drummer.  Too...

And I'm soooo not the lead singer type either.  Too...

Yeah, I always liked the guy in the background - quiet, unassuming, yet adding an invaluable contribution  to any band - sweat and a pained look on his face (but not quite as pained as everyone else).  Ah, yes.  I was 15, and he was probably 20, but I didn't care.  He had angst.  

Never mind all that.  These days I'm totally into THESE TYPES of guys.  

As we waited in line, and Mark maneuvered himself between me and my ex-crush (who, incidentally, probably barely knew I existed at the time) so that we did not see one another, I was endeared, once again, to my strong, handsome, and just a tiny bit jealous and protective man.

When we brought the kids home from church later that night, Claire (8 years old) followed me into the room where I was dressing the toddlers for bed.  She whispered, "Mom, all the girls at Awana like Austin."  Then she confided that her older sister Sadie (10 years old) was being slightly opportunistic about these school-girl crushes and using the phrase, "Well, he's my brother," to make friends and win favor.  Sadie has always thought the world of Austin, as this photo of the two of them at our wedding bears witness:

As well as this one from about 6 months later:

As Claire was confessing Sadie's plan to use her "brother" to make friends, Sadie entered the room.  Let's say she is significantly less impressed with her brother than she was when he first entered our lives some 6 years ago now, but I guess she's a girl who seizes opportunity when she sees it.  Sadie heard what we were discussing, and she said, "Yeah, it's true that they like him, but they don't know him like we do."  Claire added, "Yeah, they think they know his ways, but we know his real ways."  I had to smile at the sibling dynamics that have come so far in 6 years, and I am so thankful that these days are mine to cherish.   After all, it seems like only yesterday I had a 15-year-old crush on an older man, and now it's an almost 20-year-old, 15-year-old crush (if that makes sense to anyone but me), and these days my 15-year-old is having crushes of his own while little girls have crushes on him.  

The things we think are good for us when we are young are so rarely the things that actually are good for us.  I wonder if/when that ever changes.  At what age do we magically become aware of what is truly good for us and want those same things?  I have to admit that I was very unsure when the man who is now my husband entered my life that I would ever be very attracted to him.  He was quiet and shy (I thought), and - quite honestly - too boring to be my type.  Seeing and talking to him at first was the relational equivalent of taking vitamins or eating broccoli in that I knew he was good for me - even if my "wanter" wasn't there yet.  Lo and behold, these several years later, and I can't imagine wanting another day without him.  I remember telling my sister (when we were both single - during my divorced years), "Every 'love' I ever experienced started with fireworks and the strongest feelings of attraction, but they never worked.  Maybe the kind of love that works starts with embers and grows into fireworks.  After all, how can something that starts so strong have anywhere to go but downhill?"  I didn't know it at the time, but in trying to encourage her to give the man who is now her husband of nearly 7 years a chance to make her happy, I inadvertently advised myself of something that would later push me into the kind of happiness I could never have imagined and will never deserve.  The man I regarded as unworthy of my time pursued me, pushed past barriers, won over the hearts of my parents and my daughters, and grabbed my attention in a way no one else had tried to do.

Isaiah 53 talks about another type of "crushed":  There was once a man who was unattractive - there was nothing in his form or features that would make us attracted to Him - not extraordinarily handsome or winsome, and, as a result, we did not esteem Him, but...

 ⁵He was pierced through for our transgressions, 

He was crushed for our iniquities;
The chastening for our well-being fell upon Him,
And by His scourging we are healed.
⁶ All of us like sheep have gone astray,
Each of us has turned to his own way;
But the LORD has caused the iniquity of us all
To ^[j]fall on Him.
 ⁷ He was oppressed and He was afflicted,
Yet He did not open His mouth;
Like a lamb that is led to slaughter,
And like a sheep that is silent before its shearers,
So He did not open His mouth.
⁸ By oppression and judgment He was taken away;
And as for His generation, who considered
That He was cut off out of the land of the living
For the transgression of my people, to whom the stroke was due?
⁹ His grave was assigned with wicked men,
Yet He was with a rich man in His death,
Because He had done no violence,
Nor was there any deceit in His mouth.
 ¹⁰ But the LORD was pleased
To crush Him, putting Him to grief;
If He would render Himself as a guilt offering,
He will see His offspring,
He will prolong His days,
And the good pleasure of the LORD will prosper in His hand.
¹¹ As a result of the anguish of His soul,
He will see it and be satisfied;
By His knowledge the Righteous One,
My Servant, will justify the many,
As He will bear their iniquities.
¹² Therefore, I will allot Him a portion with the great,
And He will divide the booty with the strong;
Because He poured out Himself to death,
And was numbered with the transgressors;
Yet He Himself bore the sin of many, 

And interceded for the transgressors. 

There was nothing in Christ that would cause fireworks to rise up within us... nothing that would make us desire Him, but the sparks that grew to embers that end up in fireworks come with the knowledge of what He endured to make us His own.  

Epic Valentine's Day Failures

Before I begin, let me say that this is kind of an embarrassing blog for me to write.  I usually pride myself on being as honest and transparent as possible in what I write.  As a result, I am compelled to write this blog.  I hope that, by the end, you may be able to tell why this was therapeutic for me.


It's been a tough week or so around here.  After wrapping up a great weekend (a bit over a week ago now) with the oldest 3 of our 5 children and some friends at a Wisconsin Dells water park, we came home to pick up the youngest 2 children (ages 4 and 3).  The 4 year old had spent the night before with a stomach virus and fever, and I could feel the impending doom that would spread to the rest of us.  That was my first failure.  I did feel very sorry for my little guy, because I could tell that he was miserable.  However, just as present (or maybe even more so) in the forefront of my mind was trepidation and frustration with the fact that the rest of us were all doomed to get sick too.  That being said, I must qualify this by saying that I have an intense hatred for vomiting.  I have often said, "I would rather give birth than vomit," and that is really saying something, considering that my shortest and easiest labors were over 27 hours of straight back-to-back contractions.  I cannot say emphatically enough how I dread stomach viruses.  My selfishness caused me to feel more sorry for myself than I felt for my boy.


What has followed for that past week has been five of the seven of us coming down with some sort of illness.  Of those of us who've been sick, some of us have had stomach symptoms, and all of us have had fevers, sore throats, and chest/nasal congestion.  We have the flu.

Fast Forward to Valentine's Day Issues 

The Ghost of Valentine's Days Past  


I have always been a romantic - passionate, spirited, and a lover of gifts and gift-giving.  Therefore, my expectations have always been high when it comes to obligatory gift holidays.  My former husband (Brett) was a bad gift buyer.  I only say that, because he would admit it himself.  I recall that the first Valentine's Day we spent together (dating) he gave me a Vick's humidifier.  I was almost 17, still under my parents' roof, and they had a humidifier should I be in need of one.  He ecstatically pointed out that it was glow-in-the-dark.  I was less enthusiastic, but I played it cool, not wanting to seem ungrateful.  Fast forward to our first married Valentine's Day.  I had spent weeks planning the special day.  I had purchased him a gift and a card and had a special meal planned, and he had purchased me this ____.  That's right.  Nothing.  You know he heard about it.  I was almost 20, and possibly still a little bitter about the humidifier.  I was mad.  I didn't mind seeming ungrateful, because I was his wife now.  He knew he was in the dog house, which prompted an emergency trip to Hallmark for one of the last cards on the shelf (which was not even specified for a wife) and a movie.  What movie you may rightly wonder?  Air... Force... One.  I had never seen, neither did I wish to own, Air Force One.  When I informed him of this, he was incredulous, stating that he had always wanted to see it.  So what he had basically done was buy me (under duress) a gift for himself.  The few years after that, he made annual trips with his brother to buy "the wives" gifts for Valentine's Day.  This was done on Valentine's Day evening and resulted in my sister-in-law and I receiving identical glass plaques or something of the sort whenever they came home Valentine's Day night.  This is just a very short list of his gift-giving misses throughout the 7 years we were married.  [Aside:  Please understand at this point that I am not trying to be negative toward Brett.  I am not angry for the "bad gifts" (if there is such a thing), and it's very important to point out that these things had nothing to do with why our marriage ended.]  I look back on these things as truly funny moments of our marriage.  We were both so young and so immature - it's easy for me to see today all the goofy things that we did and to laugh at what I thought was so important at the time (and the fact that I thought those things were so important).  I willingly admit that my expectations of the day were so high that they could not possibly have been met.  Had Brett secretly built a helipad in our back yard and flown in (with his own secretly earned pilot's license), had two dozen roses awaiting me in the cockpit, taken me to Europe (having had unlimited gas installed in our magical helicopter) and landed us at the top of the Eiffel Tower where a candlelit dinner complete with all of my favorite foods was awaiting our arrival to be served by a French waiter while a violinist serenaded us with all of my favorite music, I would secretly have wondered why he had not planned an entire orchestra and packed me a personalized wind breaker with my name in hearts on the back (after all, it's chilly in Paris in February).


These past Valentine's Days taught me a few things when it comes to a "romantic" personality.  1) If either party forgets or neglects to "find time" to purchase a thoughtful gift for the other, it is a "lose/lose" situation for both parties.  2) The only possible good excuse for not purchasing a thoughtful gift on Valentine's Day for your beloved is extended hospitalization and/or death.   3) No matter how hard a person tries not to have expectations on Valentine's Day, it is truly impossible.  4)  If even one word is uttered by either party to the effect of expecting/hoping/wanting a gift, the potential gift giver has missed their opportunity for the gift to be perceived as voluntary, treasured, and/or thoughtful.  It has now become obligatory and tainted.  5)  The only cards left to purchase Valentine's Day evening might possibly include the words, "Happy Valentine's Day, Grandma!"  


The Ghost of Valentine's Day Present 


About two weeks ago when I was at Walmart getting groceries, I bought a few things for them and a card for Mark.  I already had in mind what I would buy for him as a gift, but I knew that would need to be purchased on line or at a specialty store, and I did that later.  I bought the kids a few Valentine trinkets (as they don't have class parties like so many other kids do).  


This past weekend, Mark and Austin (our teenager) went to the International Motorcycle Show in Chicago.  They had a great time with some other guys and with each other.  However, being a "home body", Mark was anxious to get back home to me and the kids as the day wore on, and he tried to hurry home to help me with all of the sick kids, which I appreciated so much.  Violet had developed an ear infection on top of her other illness, and she was hysterically screaming in pain for almost the entire afternoon and evening of that Saturday.  Mark helped so much with her - taking up with her where I left off - holding and rocking and lying in bed with her... trying anything he could to help soothe her pain.  In addition to this, he prepared his Sunday School lesson (as he teaches 5th and 6th graders at our church).    As we sat at the table for supper (Violet still wailing on my lap), Sadie looked at me and said, "Mom, I bet you're glad Mark and you are going on vacation in August!"  I laughed at that, because I realized how utterly frustrated and exhausted we must both seem and how sweet it was that she wanted to remind us of an upcoming chance for relaxation - however remote it seemed to us at the time.


Mark took Austin to a men's study for guys at our church last night, and they barely arrived home in time for him to shower and get ready for work.  As I put his card in his lunch box, he hurriedly (and worriedly) looked at me and said, "I'm sorry, I just haven't had time to buy you anything for Valentine's Day.  I feel so bad."  He rushed off to work, and said he might try to do an e-card or something like that.  I said, "Well, I bought your gift on line, so you could always do it that way."  That was the last of our conversation, but I really tried to determine within myself that whatever he did or didn't do for me would be fine.  I have become much less needy when it comes to gifts in the past few years, preferring practical gifts mostly, because the lifestyles of married people with five children have necessitated it.  He is often gone on my birthday and sometimes on our anniversary too because of his work schedule, and I have often told him that a hand-written note of encouragement is plenty good enough for me these days.


He arrived home this morning letting me sleep in, and printed off cards for me and the kids.  When I awoke, he was handing the kids their cards along with a package of Starburst for each that he must have obtained at a gas station on the way home from work.  I was disappointed that he had not hand-written anything or given me any sentiment.  He commented, "Well, it would have been nice to have dinner out together tonight, but Austin has practice, and everyone is sick."  I truly tried to hide my disappointment, but he detected it and pressed me for a reason.  I (more willingly than I should have) expressed my frustration at our situation and lamented that, despite my attempt at low expectations, I was disappointed.  


The advent of the Internet, especially Facebook, makes it so much easier to be discontented with my circumstances.  I opened it this morning to no less than 2 dozen posts about what people have received for Valentine's Day or about Valentine's Day plans, and if I had something to brag about, I would be the first one to post it too.  That's the way it works, right?  Facebook is the "way to go, me and my fabulous lifestyle" outlet.  [Aside:  In fact, Facebook has made me a little afraid to start working out regularly, and I'll tell you why:  I have friends who seem to have disappeared and been replaced by Billy Blanks. One day, they're posting about a regular, everyday stuff, and the next day, they're seeing a personal trainer, doing P90X 8 days a week, and doing triathlons 12 times a year.  I totally admire these people (in a slightly annoyed kind of way), but I am loath to read their status updates.  I know they are proud of their lifestyles, and I am proud for them, and I am the first to post when I've dropped 5 pounds, but I fear that were I to start spending an hour a day exercising, I might get carried away and become Denise Austen too.  I wouldn't be able to go to dinner with a friend without telling them how fattening their dinner selection is.  I once posted to my Facebook status something to the effect of, "I have way too many friends who post their workouts.  I wish that just once someone would post, 'I ate half a pizza and a quart of ice cream by myself and spent the rest of the day on the couch watching TV,' that way I could live vicariously through your status and actually enjoy it."  I think I accidentally hurt some feelings with that post, but I just think that human nature is funny.  That being said, if you are one of my friends who works out and talks about it a lot on Facebook, I love and admire you and what you do, and I'm just jealous of your ambition.  Let's go out for a cheeseburger and some tofu sometime soon.]


You may have noticed above the things I wrote in bold face type.  Those are the things I forgot in my selfishness this morning.  My hubby works hard.  He loves being home with his family.  He spends quality time teaching our kids to love me and love God.  He serves others at our church.  He snuggles his kids.  He treats me so well.  (Oh, and he's taking me on a vacation to Hawaii that he's spent a couple years of overtime money saving up for.)  He IS my blessed Valentine.  He already is.  He doesn't have to buy me a gift.  He is my gift.  In case you didn't notice, I bought his card when I was already out at the store.  I did my other shopping on line.  I didn't go out of my way to make his day special either.  As a married couple, we just can't sometimes.  Life gets in the way of love sometimes.  You'd think I would know that by now.  Then again, love is only that... a compilation of life's craziness and the choice to love each other despite its imperfections.  My shortcomings are many, and I hope it's clear that the title of today's blog is referring to my own Valentine's day failures and no one else's. 


The Ghost of Valentine's Days Future


It's my sincere hope that in the future I remember the concept of this blog.  I don't need gifts.  I need to recognize the gifts that are all around me.  


I once asked myself, in an effort to determine exactly what my expectations are, what would really make me happy on Valentine's Day (or any other gift holiday).  The truth is, I couldn't define it at all.  It couldn't be flowers or candy, because they are perishable and impractical.  It couldn't be a vacuum cleaner or a food processor, because those things are "job-related".  It couldn't be just dinner out, because I wouldn't have something to remember from the day.  Bottom line?  NOTHING met my criteria or expectations.  My heart wants something that doesn't exist in the physical realm.  True LOVE - untained, strong, passionate, lasting,  and... supernatural.  Putting expectations on a person will always end in disappointment, because we were created with an eternal longing that cannot (and was never meant to) be met in the temporal realm.  God created me empty in order that I seek Him for true fulfillment.


A few things that I saw on Facebook today that were a blessing:

  

Look What I Can Do!

Two of my children are 3 and 4 years old.  Sometimes I think their favorite phrase at this age is, "Hey, mom, look what I can do!"  From jumping down the stairs two-at-a-time, to drinking down the last half of a milk cup in one gulp, to dribbling a basketball for 3 seconds... it's all praiseworthy and fun as they're learning all the new things they can do - whether or not anyone else thinks those things are particularly cool or interesting.  Last night after Austin's basketball game, they ran out onto the floor to show off their own basketball skills.  Levi shot baskets, and Violet bounced a ball - both shouting the usual, "Look what I can do!" to passersby.  

I am going to "date myself" with this next paragraph and appeal to some of you Gen Xers to recall with me a skit from MADtv.  There was a "little boy" named Stuart (who was played by a grown man, of course) and his mother who had a big hairdo, built in shoulder pads, and a shameless Wisconsin accent.   She always called him, "Styert".  Stuart had a way of trying to show off to strangers by saying, "Hey, look what I can do," which he would follow with some totally random and unimpressive antic meant to impress.  I can't help but think of this skit every time the two little ones say, "Look what I can do!"  In fact, from time-to-time I like to show off for Mark with some type of odd, random antic and shout, "Hey, honey, look what I can do!"

"Look what I can do," might be a phrase that is isolated to children.  However, it is a concept that is perpetuated to the point of perfection by us adults.  From Facebook, to blogs, to tweets, we love to show everyone all the "good things" we can do or all the brilliant things we know.  I am not pointing any fingers, see... I am so guilty.  I like to show off things I make and things I do.  In fact, motives unclear to myself half the time, I am ironically doing it right now.  I tell myself that I blog for me, and that is partially true, but I'll post it to the internet, and I'll link it from Facebook like always, and I'll hope that a few people read it and think about it too.  

My pride is an ugly thing, and God has been making it so blasted clear to me these past two weeks, to the point of overwhelming me with it.  So I've humbled myself and learned to just let God figure all these tough issues out for me and defend me and help me, right??  WRONG.  I only wish that were true, but seems to have only made me more aware of it - not stopped it.  From the overflow of my ugly heart, my ugly mouth speaks.  That's one Facebook status you won't see me post, but that's not because it isn't true, but because everyone who would comment on it would try to convince me that it wasn't true - that I'm not a rotten sinner... that deep down I'm a really good person.  They are my "friends", after all, right?  But I know better about me.  I like to think I'm decent, but then I see me in action and realize that, much to my own dismay, I'm not.  

We like to think that we should be able to take pride in what we do... that it is good to take pride in yourself and your abilities, etc.  It's fine to brag, and, as I mentioned in a FB status a few weeks back, it's a societal norm that's infiltrated something as simple as greeting cards.  I can't stand to read most cards anymore, because they go on and on about wonderful, sweet, perfect ME.  I go to buy a card for a loved one and who is the card about?  ME.  "Dear Mom, Thanks for supporting me, seeing the best in me, being there for me when I needed you, and lifting me up when I was weak, because - let's face it - we both know what a fantastically amazing and remarkable person I am and how much I deserve to be lifted up... after all, who got you this card??  ME, that's who... Happy Birthday to the person who gave birth to ME!  Love Always and Best Wishes, Me"  Okay, prone to exaggeration might be in bold print on my dossier, but you get my drift here, right?  

In the midst of my God-given smackdown this week (and it's barely halfway over), my attention has been drawn to one thing.  Look what I can do?  

LOOK WHAT I CAN DO!

God vs. Us style:

ME:  I can have a new body in 6 weeks with my new diet/exercise program!  

GOD:  I can have a new body in 3 days and save the whole human race in the process.

ME:  Look what I made!

GOD:  Look what I made.

ME:  Look how much I love my kids!

GOD:  Look how much I love your kids.

This list could go on for longer than I have before it's way past my bedtime, but the bottom line is this verse that keeps coming to my mind:  In John 15:5, Jesus says, "I am the vine.  You are the branches.  He who abides in me and I in him, he bears much fruit.  For apart from me, you can do nothing."  Yet, despite the nothing I can do apart from Him, to my shame, I do a whole lot of nothings apart from Him, none of it amounting to anything and so much more of it causing undue trouble and stress for myself and others.  This thing called life is not about us, but we try everything within (and without) our human power to make it about us, even though it renders us completely ineffective.  The moment I've bragged about something, it's made me ridiculous.  The moment pride has reared it's ugly head, it's made me a fool.

This past evening, Levi (whom we've been weaning from naps lately) was interrupted from "working out" on the eliptical trainer by his sister who wanted to "take his picture" with a Viewmaster.  He was annoyed enough (and perhaps sleep-deprived enough) to jump off the eliptical, approach his sister and push the Viewmaster into her eyes - causing her to cry.  Having been in the bathroom during the whole time this occurred, I got this story second-hand from Mark and the other kids.  After Mark told him he must apologize, he refused and ran to his room, slamming the door, and carrying on like a madman about the injustices of the world and his particular situation.  He received discipline for his actions and was told he must apologize to his sister, which he (reluctantly and after much coaching) eventually did. The funny part of this story to me was that when we took food to my grandparents tonight at their home, he sat at their kitchen table and confessed the whole of the situation to the entire table of people.  He admitted to hitting his sister in the eye with the Viewmaster, and making her cry and then he said, "And I wouldn't say I was sorry, and I got mad and mad and ran to my room and then (higher pitched, as if he couldn't believe his own actions) I slammed the door, and then I threw a big, BIG fit!"  My grandpa tried to suppress a grin and a snicker as he listened intently to the story.  Levi said, "I was being so bad, and mom and dad both told me I needed to say sorry."  His confession was sweet to hear - as if he couldn't believe the way he had acted and that, despite the fact I doubt he was remorseful at the time he apologized, he seemed to truly be at that moment.  The best part about this story was the true confession - big, ugly tantrum and all - was something he felt he wanted to share.  Pride gone and glad of it, he bared his soul, and it seemed to be freeing for him.  


This type of honesty could revolutionize my facebook posts.  I can just see them now:


"Marinated a steak for my amazing husband's birthday and then gave him the silent treatment because he didn't appreciate all the trouble I went to."


"Spent the day adoring my wonderful children and then avoided eye contact with an acquaintance at Walmart, because I didn't feel like making conversation."  


"Learned some amazing new truths at Bible study and then went home and ate chocolate chip cookies and milk in the bathtub because I was feeling sorry for myself."


"Ran 8 miles on my eliptical trainer and topped it off with that quart of ice cream I've been hiding in the outside freezer after everyone went to bed tonight."

I hear complaints all around me that are well-founded.  What's wrong with the church?  It's full of ME.  What's wrong with the world?  It's full of ME.  What's wrong in the universe?  It's populated by billions of galaxies in the midst of which is one which has a tiny, little planet that is populated by people like ME.  Why should we look at other people on earth in exasperation at how not good they are?  They're in our same predicament - sin.  Why should we come to church expecting people to be good and act righteously?  We're all in the same predicament - sin.  And all too often, the One who could help us act right is the One we don't ask for help.  

On the list of the things God hates, what made the top of the list?  #1?  The most hated thing?  Pride.  (Proverbs 6:16, Proverbs 8:13) When I look at the photos above, it's rightly obvious to me one of the reasons God hates it when we're proud.  Because we have no basis for it!  The things I can make and do in comparison to the things He has made and done (including making the person who can make and do the other things)?  It is a non-comparison - a laughable comparison.  I have no basis for feeling proud of myself - what I've written, what I've accomplished, what I've made - when I consider what He has written, what He has accomplished, and what He has made.  It's like taping a finger painting on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.  Have you ever seen someone try to strut his/her stuff when they have no stuff to strut?  How does it make you feel?  Do you pitty that person?  Do you laugh?  Do you feel embarrassed for that person?  How much more would you feel this way if you were the stuff?  If you were the glue that holds the universe together, how would you feel about your creation hanging its pittiful self out to brag.   Yet, as sickeningly ridiculous as that would be, I don't think that's what angers God the most about pride.  Like most sin, I think He hates that it hurts us and that we use it to hurt each other.  And despite all of this, He loves us anyway.  There are a lot of remarkable things that we all see on a daily basis, but what is the most remarkable is that the God of the universe would care for you and for me.

Soft and Sanitized

Lately, my oldest son and I have been enjoying war movies together.  I had quite a collection of war movies when Mark and I got married, from The Dirty Dozen to Wind Talkers to The Gladiator, I enjoyed them all.  Austin is always in awe that I - a GIRL - actually enjoy stories of war.  It's true, real or fictional, (but especially real) I enjoy a good war story.  Austin rationalizes that it must be because my name is derived from the Roman god of war.  I just think that "girls" can enjoy history, including the war parts, as much as "boys" can.  We recently finished the last episode of World War II in HD from the History Channel.  It's no exaggeration to say that I loved this documentary series.  It was so well done, and it provided a more in depth look at WWII than I had ever seen or understood before we watched it.


We watched a movie last night called The Eagle about a Roman soldier who was trying to reclaim a symbol of Rome that his father had lost in combat years earlier.  I thought the movie was mediocre at best, but I was reminded of something that was also impressed upon me as I watched WWII in HD... I am soft.  As I watched the conditions under which millions of people have lived...  As I watched the conditions under which millions of people have existed... I am overwhelmed.  I don't even want to use the word "lived" in the sense that I think of it.  I realize - almost with pain - that I could not live that way.


On Saipan, immediately following its conquer by the United States in WWII, US Marines witnessed the mass suicide of civilians - men, women, and children who had been brainwashed by their government to believe they'd be better off dying than falling into American hands.  The Marines watched helplessly as parents killed their children and then themselves - jumping off (or throwing children off) cliffs onto rocks below, drowning themselves, holding grenades to their chests and pulling the pins.  These piteous people who lived in abject poverty and who were treated as second-class citizens by their own government crawled out of the caves in which they'd been hiding in order to kill themselves.  They believed they had nothing to live for - no reason to believe they could expect better from life than worse than what they had already experienced.   But why?  Isn't life precious?  Not for many.  It makes me wonder if, after humanity's fall from grace, it was ever meant to be precious.


Dean Sherman states that Western civilization, particularly Western Christianity, exists in the world of the theoretical.  We believe in analogies.  We believe in theory, because we rarely exercise our ability to live out our faith in reality.  We really have no idea how most of the world lives.  Even the poorest of our poor are not abjectly impoverished.  We have provided ourselves with so much comfort that we are disgusted by discomfort.  We've tried many things (good and bad) to rid ourselves of the types of discomforts that the rest of the world endure on a daily basis.  Through vaccinations, pain relievers, lawsuits, foods, diets, climate control systems, and thousands of other things we use every day, we've managed to rid ourselves of "life"... or what is considered life for most of the other people on earth.  Even death has become too uncomfortable and inconvenient for many to face these days.  Funeral homes go bankrupt because people choose cremation and no memorial service to save on costs and presumably on grief.  As a hospice volunteer, I am often surprised had how many families choose no services for their loved ones.  Does this really save us?  Does refusing to grieve in a traditional sense work for us?  At least in the Caucasian culture, we'd already managed our grief down into bite-sized tokens (at least in public) of sniffles and tissues. Why not wail and moan and sit in a heap of ashes like other cultures?    Why not ugly cry - snorts, snots, and all?  Too "undignified" has become too easy to ignore.


I miss the passion of earlier generations.  I miss the sense of duty that people felt toward God, family, and country.  I've spoken a lot lately with a lovely single friend of mine who is at a loss to understand why she cannot find a "good" man.  Despite her beauty, intelligence, education, and job - all the things the world says she needs to be and do, and then some - there is not a man to be found who will "fight for" her.  Not a man to be found who values her enough to work at establishing and maintaining a relationship.  Is it her fault?  No way.  It is all of our faults.  We have come to a point in our society where we expect less and less of ourselves and more and more of each other - a combination that can't possibly work.  Women have continued to fight for "rights" and "freedom" which mostly boils down to control over our circumstances (and our men), and we wonder why men are apathetic when it comes to pursuing us.  We've taken the roles that were traditionally theirs - including pursuer - and we wonder why we are so dissatisfied with the mealy-mouthed, dispassionate man lying next to us in bed.  What are they supposed to do?  What's left for them?  What distinguishes them as different from us?  Nothing, and we wanted it that way, and now we hate them for it.  What's worse - a strong, confident man who is sometimes insensitive or a soft, sensitive man who refuses to fight for his woman, family, home, and country?  I know which one appeals more to me.


The comfortable, soft, sanitized world we've created for ourselves largely rids us of our dependence upon anyone - least of all God - and yet we lament our feelings of loneliness and isolation.  We live our lives with the most minimal involvement from God, but He's the first one to get the blame when things go badly for us.  Ironically, the most valuable spiritual truths I've ever learned were in the times of my greatest trials and tribulations.  My most precious times of being "held" by my Savior were in times when there was no one else to hold me.  We wonder why people in more impoverished and persecuted parts of the world seem to have a more vibrant faith, but it's small wonder to me.  After all, real life, like it became after man's fall from glory, is rotten.  It's not fun.  It's not pretty, and it's certainly not easy.


I recall a story that a friend of mine who moved here from another country once told me.  He said that when he had lived in his home country, he had been important and prominent.  He had much pride in who he was and in his home country.  He came to America excited, because he felt God was leading him to make a difference in our country.  He asked God what God wanted him to do.  He was met with frustration after frustration.  He found himself asking God why he would bring him to this country only to meet him with frustration and humiliation.  He said he felt God impress upon him that he was not brought to America because God needed him in America but because God knew that, only in America - far away and humbled from his former way of life - would this friend realize his constant need for God.  Since that time, I have witnessed many people who think their life's work is to change a person or group of people when the reality is that they can't and never could.  We aren't in the business of changing others.  God doesn't need us for that.  He puts us here so that, through the living of our lives - particularly the most painful parts of those lives - we are caused to depend on Him in a way that grows and changes us.  How prideful of us to think that God plans to use us to change other people.  It's only when we realize that we are the ones who need to change that we become truly useful to God at all.


Those Marines on Saipan tried everything they could think of to communicate their good intentions toward the civilians who were killing themselves by the hundreds, but the language barrier and the lack of trust between them prevented a potentially life-saving exchange.  You can't change a person's heart - no matter how good your intentions might be.  Next time, you're facing something difficult and dirty, and you're frustrated out of your mind, the person God probably wants you to change is YOU.