"I believe in Christianity as I believe the sun has risen, not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else."
C.S. Lewis
I love this quote, or in a more modern translation, I heart this quote. Here's the thing, I struggle with being nice. I'm just not a nice person. I'm very strong-willed. You are most likely not going to change my mind, and I'm one of those people who sticks up for the other... really. My wonderful husband, Matt, puts me in my place a lot of the time, because, when I say I'm not nice, he's not excluded from my unkind acts. As my friend Ashley would tell you: I'm the person who shoots first and asks questions later. I'm not always proud of that fact. I am also not proud of being so strong-willed all the time... mainly because I'm afraid little man probably inherited that personality trait from his mama. Lovely.
And as an unkind, strong-willed person, this quote from C.S. Lewis is my mantra. Just a sidenote: the term mantra is used a lot in other religions, but I rarely hear the term used in Christianity. Basically, a word/words are "spoken" to invoke spiritual transformation. Well, I've already been spiritually transformed, but I can use all the help I can get to continue in my salvation by reading the Bible, which I will say is my Christian mantra. Anyway, this quote from C.S. Lewis is inspiring. You see, I need to see the world through my Christian lenses, and in so doing, I should also be more kind toward others. I'm talking about, not getting angry at silly things, talking meanly to others, or simply not talking. Nor should I berate others for silly things. I hear lots of useless talk among other Christians. Talk about people in the entertainment field, political field, etc... And the talk I hear is often times why we don't agree with them or like what they are doing or what they stand for. Well, as my father says: we cannot expect a non-Christian to act like a Christian . Why do we try so hard to hold them to our own standards? A non-Christian has no morals or values. Really? Yeah. Where do we get our morals and values from? Jesus. If they don't come from Him, they are non-existent. In other words, humans are not basically good. We get our goodness from Him. And for those of use who talk about other Christians... I've said it before: we are spending an eternity with these people. We are not perfect. Don't focus on flaws, but instead on the positive attributes of this person. And, if you have a problem, go to that person in love and work it out privately.
So, back to the quote. This quote implies that, as Believers, we should see EVERTHING else by way of our Christianity (our morals/values/beliefs). We do not make a decision to follow Christ, and then go out and live like the rest of the world. This means that we do not have our Christianity on one level and life/job/politics on the other. You see, there are so many arguments about whether we should include God in schools, in politics; whether our country was founded on Christian beliefs. However, I personally believe those are useless arguments to some degree (and I like a good debate). We are looking for others to decide where we are allowed to bring our Christianity into (school? government? work places?). If you are a Christian, shouldn't you already be bringing your Christianity into these places? It is not a coat that we put on at home, at church, at soccer games. Ephesians 1:13 tells us that we are sealed with the Holy Spirit. A seal is not temporary. This verse is referring to permanence. As a Christian, we take our beliefs everywhere. Now, do I believe in taking your Bible into school and blatantly placing it on the adminstrator's desk? I think not. But, I do mean standing behind your beliefs whatever the circumstances. Jesus did. And look at the ruckus he caused among the pharisees! So, dearest C.S. Lewis, thank you for allowing me to write a book about your quote! Love, me.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
Be My Valentine...
Valentine's Day has come and gone, and it is indeed my favorite holiday. Why? Because it is a day to celebrate love... all kinds of love: love between a husband and a wife, parents and children, friends, family, and mostly the love my Savior has for me. While I don't believe we should just set aside one day to demonstrate our love for others, I do believe in celebrating Valentine's Day. It is such a sweet holiday. I love the cute decorations, the Valentine exchange kids have in schools, and I love, love, love having a brand new Valentine to share today with. This is his first Valentine... yep, my baby Isaiah.
You see, before there was Isaiah, there was Matt and I. And while I love my husband, it is so traditional to get him a card and a little gift. And, I guess the reason I don't mind if Matt gets me anything for Valentine's Day is because he shows me he loves me every other day of the year. If he only got me flowers, chocolate and cards on Valentine's day, well, that doesn't prove anything except that he's doing the husband duty. However, my hubby is sweet and surprises me other days of the year, and I guess I just get used to it. Its not as if I don't appreciate it (because we all know this girl loves chocolate), its just that the newness and excitement of getting these things wears off. There is housework to do, a baby to take care of, a dog that needs fed, bills that need paid. There was a time when I would do all the housework because I didn't babysit a 4-year-old and have an 11-month-old. It didn't bother me to do everything by myself. I didn't have much else to do anyway. Matt and I were in a routine. A nice, cushy routine. Life was a habit. It was fun and exciting, but neither one of us would go above and beyond to love the other. We weren't really self-sacrificing. Mostly, we were comfortable with where we were, and that was fine by me!
Then, Isaiah came into this world and showed me an entirely new kind of love. The kind of love that doesn't come with a card. It comes crying and naked into a hospital room. It comes with sleepless nights, washing bottles hundreds of times, changing diapers, getting puked on, getting pooped and peed on... It comes with cuddling and rocking. This new love comes with a lot more work and a lot less me. You see, I learned a very important thing that first night in the hospital with my baby boy, I learned how to really love. I'm not the best... I'm far from it, but this new love is not cushy. It is not comfortable or habitual. It is giving; it is sacrificing; it is unconditional. It is going above and beyond to serve. It is putting myself last.
And so this Valentine's Day wasn't about me at all. It was about my husband and baby boy. I used to wonder what Matt was going to get for me on Valentine's Day. Not that I really cared that much, just that he thought about me. Today, however, I wondered, "What will I do today to show my husband that I love him... not just today, but for the rest of my life?" Today, the flowers smelled wonderful, and the chocolate was delicious, but the hug from my husband was best. Just knowing that I can talk to him, that he cares about me, and that I have officially put him first in our relationship is what makes this day special. The entire reason behind Valentine's Day is to show someone you were thinking of them. In other words, its putting yourself last. Its a lot less me. And it took a bald, naked, crying, pink baby boy to put this whole day in perspective. The things God teaches me never cease to amaze me.
You see, before there was Isaiah, there was Matt and I. And while I love my husband, it is so traditional to get him a card and a little gift. And, I guess the reason I don't mind if Matt gets me anything for Valentine's Day is because he shows me he loves me every other day of the year. If he only got me flowers, chocolate and cards on Valentine's day, well, that doesn't prove anything except that he's doing the husband duty. However, my hubby is sweet and surprises me other days of the year, and I guess I just get used to it. Its not as if I don't appreciate it (because we all know this girl loves chocolate), its just that the newness and excitement of getting these things wears off. There is housework to do, a baby to take care of, a dog that needs fed, bills that need paid. There was a time when I would do all the housework because I didn't babysit a 4-year-old and have an 11-month-old. It didn't bother me to do everything by myself. I didn't have much else to do anyway. Matt and I were in a routine. A nice, cushy routine. Life was a habit. It was fun and exciting, but neither one of us would go above and beyond to love the other. We weren't really self-sacrificing. Mostly, we were comfortable with where we were, and that was fine by me!
Then, Isaiah came into this world and showed me an entirely new kind of love. The kind of love that doesn't come with a card. It comes crying and naked into a hospital room. It comes with sleepless nights, washing bottles hundreds of times, changing diapers, getting puked on, getting pooped and peed on... It comes with cuddling and rocking. This new love comes with a lot more work and a lot less me. You see, I learned a very important thing that first night in the hospital with my baby boy, I learned how to really love. I'm not the best... I'm far from it, but this new love is not cushy. It is not comfortable or habitual. It is giving; it is sacrificing; it is unconditional. It is going above and beyond to serve. It is putting myself last.
And so this Valentine's Day wasn't about me at all. It was about my husband and baby boy. I used to wonder what Matt was going to get for me on Valentine's Day. Not that I really cared that much, just that he thought about me. Today, however, I wondered, "What will I do today to show my husband that I love him... not just today, but for the rest of my life?" Today, the flowers smelled wonderful, and the chocolate was delicious, but the hug from my husband was best. Just knowing that I can talk to him, that he cares about me, and that I have officially put him first in our relationship is what makes this day special. The entire reason behind Valentine's Day is to show someone you were thinking of them. In other words, its putting yourself last. Its a lot less me. And it took a bald, naked, crying, pink baby boy to put this whole day in perspective. The things God teaches me never cease to amaze me.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Today Matt and I took Isaiah outside to explore. The temperature was finally "warm", by that I mean, not 20 degrees (where the temperature seemed to stay for months)! So, I decided to take Isaiah out and enjoy today's gift of sunshine. Needless to say, Isaiah thoroughly enjoyed this adventure.
 |
| at first he wasn't sure about it... |
 |
| then he noticed the leaves... |
 |
| "hmmm... i could eat this" |
 |
| "yep, this is edible..." |
 |
| mommy took my picture then ran up to get the grass out of my mouth... |
 |
| finally, mom gets a break and dad has to watch me eat leaves! |
 |
| i'd venture to say that little man had a good day... |
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Happy Birthday Matthew!
A tribute to the brother I almost killed. The brother who almost killed me. The brother who is going to be a daddy sometime in May/beginning of June. The brother whose wife is one of the sweetest people I know... This brother's birthday is tomorrow. He will be the big two three.
So, here's the story:
I was maybe 2 years old when my mom went downstairs to put some laundry in the washer, some in the dryer, and bring a load upstairs to fold. How she managed to do all that with Matthew around is beyond me. Anyway, my baby brother was in his little walker just having a good ole time and my mom told me not to open the basement door. Matthew would most likely plummet down the steps if I did open it because this is the boy who got into the oven, crawled across the table, some how managed to escape outside in his diaper, and the list goes on... So, knowing better even though I was probably only 2 or 3, I open the basement door and there goes Matthew, walker and all, down the steps. Luckily, my mom was on her way up the steps so she caught him before any real damage could occur. This is how I almost killed him.
Next, he almost killed me. Well, this happened on multiple occassions. First, I wouldn't get off the swing set and Matthew wanted to shoot his bow right where I was swinging. We are both stubborn. I wouldn't move and he shot. Yep, he shot me with an arrow. Lucky for me, he wasn't allowed to shoot with pointed tips yet. Second, he FELL ASLEEP while riding on the go-cart. And who was in the passenger seat, none other but yours truly! I didn't know he fell asleep and he smacked right into concrete steps, sending me skidding across the parking lot of the church my dad pastored. Not only that, but the brand-spankin-new go-cart now had some steering issues. We won't talk about Dad's reaction to that one! And, here he is, my not-so-little-anymore sibling, Matthew.
Oh, there are other memories I could write about, but the best ones were when we did things we weren't suppsed to do (climbing the really old fashioned antenna, jumping down from the top of the swing set, tormenting the youngest brother, Luke, doing donuts in the school parking lot...) Needless to say, I love my brother. We have great memories together. And I'm sure there will be many more to come! Happy Birthday Matthew! Love, Your Big Sis.
So, here's the story:
I was maybe 2 years old when my mom went downstairs to put some laundry in the washer, some in the dryer, and bring a load upstairs to fold. How she managed to do all that with Matthew around is beyond me. Anyway, my baby brother was in his little walker just having a good ole time and my mom told me not to open the basement door. Matthew would most likely plummet down the steps if I did open it because this is the boy who got into the oven, crawled across the table, some how managed to escape outside in his diaper, and the list goes on... So, knowing better even though I was probably only 2 or 3, I open the basement door and there goes Matthew, walker and all, down the steps. Luckily, my mom was on her way up the steps so she caught him before any real damage could occur. This is how I almost killed him.
Next, he almost killed me. Well, this happened on multiple occassions. First, I wouldn't get off the swing set and Matthew wanted to shoot his bow right where I was swinging. We are both stubborn. I wouldn't move and he shot. Yep, he shot me with an arrow. Lucky for me, he wasn't allowed to shoot with pointed tips yet. Second, he FELL ASLEEP while riding on the go-cart. And who was in the passenger seat, none other but yours truly! I didn't know he fell asleep and he smacked right into concrete steps, sending me skidding across the parking lot of the church my dad pastored. Not only that, but the brand-spankin-new go-cart now had some steering issues. We won't talk about Dad's reaction to that one! And, here he is, my not-so-little-anymore sibling, Matthew.
Oh, there are other memories I could write about, but the best ones were when we did things we weren't suppsed to do (climbing the really old fashioned antenna, jumping down from the top of the swing set, tormenting the youngest brother, Luke, doing donuts in the school parking lot...) Needless to say, I love my brother. We have great memories together. And I'm sure there will be many more to come! Happy Birthday Matthew! Love, Your Big Sis.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)