On washed in the blood or the water…

The Old Testament called for animal sacrifices for the redemption of sin.

The best animals were carried up mountains and through desert lands so they could be slain.

We fell from God. Ever since the moment we fell, we’ve been trying to get back to perfection. We shed the blood of animals to forgive inequities. We shed blood hoping we would someday get back to perfection.

In our culture, we are often removed from the blood of animals. We see violence on television, but outside of working in the medical field or butchery, we seldom see blood.

Sometimes I imagine how much blood was spilled. Hundreds, thousands, millions of gallons? Probably.

What would that be like (not that I would’ve carried out the sacrifice) to literally be covered in the blood of a spotless lamb?

We all know the verse….

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

I memorized the creed…

“I believe in God, the Father almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried; he descended into hell; on the third day he rose again from the dead; he ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of God the Father almighty; from there he will come to judge the living and the dead.”

Lately, I’ve began to wonder how much people really understand the grace that comes with such a sacrifice.

Have you ever carried a spotless lamb for thirty miles up a mountain? Animal sacrifices for the redemption of sins are rare – they are also unnecessary.

God gave us His son, so we could forever be washed in the blood of The spotless lamb.

Are you washed in the blood, or just in the water?

I’ve lost count of the number of people who are surprised that I drink and swear.

I’ve never found my swearing or the glass of wine I drink with dinner to conflict with my beliefs.

Somewhere along the line it seems like it has become more important ‘To Do’ all of the ‘Right’ things rather than simply believing in and accepting grace.

If Christ died for the redemption of sins, why do I see so many people pretending they can somehow be perfect?

We all have different ways that we honor our God. Some sing to praise. Some grow their beards out of honor, others wear dresses. It is not those things that give me concern.

Do not drink. Do not smoke. Do not dance. Comb your hair this way. Comb your hair that way. Do not… do not… do not…

Why have so many washed their hands of things that never made them unclean in the first place?

If there is no grace, there is no forgiveness. If there is no forgiveness, there is no redemption. If there is no redemption, than the blood of Christ has no meaning.

Christ died for all.

Our own scale of judgment is too poor of quality for what would be necessary for all of mankind. We see and judge what is in front of us. We our subject to time, our experience, what we ate at dinner, what our spouse said to us 15 minutes ago, the media, our lifespan….

God’s scale of judgment is…. I don’t even know. I can only see for short period of time. So what I see as ‘wrong’ or ‘bad’ is highly subject to my minimal experience. God’s scale spans for all of eternity, across billions of people, across thousands of cultures and languages. It cuts through my own preconceived notions of right and wrong.

So who am I to judge? I am not the great I Am. But He is.

He died for us. He shall judge us.

Water cannot make us clean. Only the blood can.

On the wrong (for my brother Ben)….

My brother Ben and I have personalities that are 95% completely different.

I follow the rules, while Ben is more – um – flexible. I got straight A’s throughout school, while Ben got – um – not straight A’s. I played sports, while Ben rocked the trumpet. I’m not a risk taker. Ben has always pushed it (I’ve always admired that about him).

Then, there is that 5%. That small percentage is where I feel the closest to my brother Ben. I know so many people, and have many great friends. However, none of them have that five percent that I share with my brother.

The two things that my brother and I have in common are: 1) an incredibly sarcastic sense of humor and 2) an acceptance for the decisions that other people make. The former, we got from our father. The latter, Ben taught me.

I cannot think of a serious rule I broke until I drank underage in college. When we were younger, Ben found a clever way to drink an entire bottle of brandy my dad had (I think it was the only bottle of alcohol my parents had in the house while I was growing up). Ben would have a drink or two from the bottle every week or so. Then, he would replace what he drank with died water. By the end, the contents of the bottle were entirely comprised of water.

When Ben was in eighth grade there was a video game he wanted for Christmas. That year, my parents purchased all the Christmas presents early, wrapped them, and hid them somewhere in their bedroom. A few weeks before Christmas Ben went through my parent’s room and found the video game. Every day, Ben would find the game, carefully unwrap it, play it at night while we were sleeping, and then re-wrap it before anyone found out. Before my brother got the game on Christmas day, he had already conquered it.

At the end of my freshman year and at the end of Ben’s senior year – we came to a head.

In high school, my brother started failing several classes. Ben has an IQ over 150. He got into Mensa when he was in 8th grade, and scored a 30 on the ACTs before he got into high school. Ben never failed because he lacked ability – he failed out of choice.

Meanwhile, in my entire life, I’ve gotten 4 letter grades that were not As.

Knowing he was failing at high school I cut Ben down and told him he was stupid, dumb, an idiot, and a complete failure. Yeah, I know, really nice sister move.

Neither Ben nor I have ever been ones to mince words (we value honesty over tact). Ben stopped in his tracks and said flatly, “You know why I fail? I fail because I don’t give a fuck about what everyone thinks of me. You know why you do well? You do well because you care too much.” He was right.

The moment Ben told me I cared too much, I realized how completely different we were. In that moment, Ben taught me that sometimes the decisions that others make are neither right nor wrong. Sometimes, the ‘wrong’ decision, is simply one we would not make for ourselves (for the record here, I am not trying to excuse unhealthy behaviors).

Ben is never going to follow the rules, do what people tell him to do, or try to get straight A’s. He does not care. It is not in his nature.

Meanwhile, I’m probably going to draw inside the lines, cross every T, and dot every I. It is just who I am.

When you follow the rules, and you are confronted with someone that breaks the rules – you only have two options: 1) continually judge the person and tell them they are wrong or 2) accept that we all break someone’s rule/s, and just move on.

I’m a Christian. I think the most annoying thing I encounter in Christian culture is conversation about what ‘To do.’

I’ve lost count of the number of times I've  been in groups where folks talk about all the things they are doing correctly, while also discussing all of the things everyone else is doing incorrectly.

I understand the purpose of these conversations, and I would be lying if I said I’ve never participated. The purpose of the ‘to do’ conversation is to help groups reinforce norms and mores and feel a sense of cohesion about shared beliefs.

But I’ve never understood how the person talking about what EVERYONE else is doing wrong can’t point the finger around.

I have SO many annoying habits and personality traits. I’m controlling, I have anger issues, I talk over my husband in conversation, I never put my shoes away, I exhale loudly 300 times a day at work, I crack my neck, I bite my fingernails. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know God loves me. But come on, I can be SUPER annoying.

I guess I could’ve spent years focusing on what my brother is doing ‘wrong.’

The thing is, in Ben’s mind – he isn’t doing anything wrong. He has a creative personality, so in his mind he is flexing rules; not breaking them. Notions of shared rationality are idiotic.

The world is not black and white. The world is gray and swirly. There are not universal rules that every single person follows. Some Christians drink, others don’t. I’ve never met two people that have the exact same beliefs, or the same personalities.

When we spend so much time focusing on other people’s shit, we do two very terrible things: 1) We miss the chance to improve ourselves and 2) We miss the chance to love another person.

Rather than spending years trying to change my brother, I just accept him. My brother is so different from me, but I love him. He is a great father, he is by far the most intelligent person I know, and I appreciate his creative nature. Ben, if you’re reading this, I think you’re fucking awesome dude. I’ve always thought you were great.

Instead of spending years of energy on trying to fix my brother, I hope I’ve – instead – focused that energy on fixing myself. And thinking that my brother somehow needs to be fixed, is denying my own brokenness. I cannot control what my brother does. I can only control what I do. In a few years time, I hope I’ve become kinder, listened more and talked less, practiced some tact, stopped exhaling so much, and learned to let go.

Because what we never really know is… who thinks we are the ones in the wrong? Who is talking shit about what you’re doing wrong? Who thinks you are broken? Trust me, there is someone thinking it. Someone out there thinks you are wrong, you are an ass, and that you need fixing. And you know what, they are probably right.

Have you ever been on the receiving end of another person’s judgment? I have. It’s terrible. Right after I got divorced, one of my best friends told me that she could no longer be my friend – because I was getting divorced. She said, "If you choose divorce, I can no longer be friends with you." The irony was that she herself was divorced. Yeah, I know. I still don’t get it. Losing that friendship was an important lesson for me. I never want to be in a place where I am passing judgment on everyone else, while completing missing my own brokenness.

So let’s just all do each other a favor, and get the heck over ourselves. Let’s focus more energy on thinking of what we can do to improve ourselves, and spend less time focusing on what we think everyone else needs to do.

If you feel like you can’t do it, just let me know. I’ve got this amazing sarcastic brother I can send to straighten you out.

On all the good things…

My husband and I got baptized together. Well, not in the same hot tub (our church does immersion), but we got baptized on the same day.

Right after we got baptized, one of our friends said to us, “I love you guys. I like that you both had prior relationships that didn't go well, but you don’t let that stop you from moving forward.”

I cried a little. I thought that was one of the nicest compliments my husband and I had received about our relationship. I also thought it was especially fitting right after being baptized.

The compliment was also true. My husband and I both had some bad stuff, but we didn't let that stop us.

Del (my husband) and I were both married previously.

Del got divorced because his ex-wife just left. One day they were together and married, and the next day she decided she could no longer handle being his wife.

I never really knew Del’s ex-wife. I had met her before. When I met her, I thought she was nice and funny. I know she can/could bake well, and that she can/could sing well. Beyond that, I know very little about her. I couldn't tell you what makes her tick.

Whenever I think of Del’s ex-wife, I feel disappointment. I’ve spent a long time contemplating why I feel so disappointed with her.  She has never done anything to me, and frankly, her decision to leave was my gain. I think I feel disappointed because Del will never tell anyone (except me) what it was like to be married to his ex-wife. I have heard from other people that his ex-wife told tons of people intimate details about their relationship. Del will sometimes say ‘It was terrible’ or ‘She was not kind.’ I see the irony in my disappointment, or is it the hypocrisy? I'm divorced too. I left too, and I'm writing a blog about it. But I feel disappointment nonetheless.

I am never sure if his silence is Del being honorable, or if the pain of whatever she did is too much to discuss. Maybe it is both.

I got divorced because my ex-husband was controlling. I wasn't allowed to: bake, spend money, decorate the house, spend time with friends, talk to certain members of my family, etc. etc.  My ex-husband also enjoyed calling me names. I think ‘bitch’ was his favorite. Any of my friends and all of my family will tell you that I had to leave my first marriage. It was, well, super bad.

Neither Del nor I were perfect spouses.

The strange this is - I am married to Del – and I cannot tell you exactly what he did as a husband that contributed to his marriage failing. My husband is not perfect, but he is SUCH a good husband. He is kind, forgiving, a hard worker, funny, at sooo cute. At any rate, why Del did to his marriage that contributed to its failure is his story. He can tell it, if he ever wants to.

I also did a lot that contributed to my first marriage failing. I was not forgiving – of anything. If my ex-husband would do something wrong, I would hold it over his head. I never told my ex-husband how I was feeling or what I was thinking, which really doesn't make a marriage work. I mothered my ex-husband. I would try to force him to see all of the little details he was missing.

I think the greatest lie I hear people tell is that one person caused a marriage to fail. Yeah, I am sure that is true for some people (like 1%), but most of the time it is two people not doing enough to make a marriage work.

For some reason, our society excuses the three A’s as a reason for getting divorced: abuse (physical or mental), adultery, and addiction (drugs or alcohol). If one partner has a problem with those, our society gives a green light to leaving. I have always thought that was so strange. And no, I'm not supporting the three A's, or insulting folks who chose to divorce because of them. I just think its fascinating... If you are called to love your spouse forever, why are there this weird tickets to single town? What is it about these three things that suddenly make the decision to leave a marriage so black and white?

In some ways, I am grateful for that I had a green light. It removes a lot of societal disapproval I faced after getting divorced. I've never heard anyone admit this, but if you say ‘My ex was abusive’ – it removes so much critique. And no one ever asks the spouse that was cheated on 'What did you do to contribute to your spouse cheating?'

Don’t worry though, while society may remove that critique, I still give plenty of it to myself. My first marriage failed. I contributed to that failure.

I've said it before, but I will say it again: I forgive my ex-husband. I forgive Del’s ex-wife. I forgive Del for whatever he did to contribute to his first marriage failing. And – I forgive myself for whatever I did to contribute to my first marriage failing.

With this grace, we move on.

Del, my husband, is the best husband in the entire world. When I think of him, my stomach still gets butterflies. When he kisses me, my knees get weak. Just writing about him right now makes my heart beat faster. Just writing his name makes me miss him.

Del and I came together at a time in our lives when everything was falling apart. I’m guessing that most shrinks would say we bonded over a traumatic event, and then they would tell us that our bond is unhealthy. Meh. I disagree.

Del and I work because we have four important things: 1) a ton of common interests, 2) a healthy respect for individual growth, 3) Jesus, and 4) good sex (my parents read this, so I’ll just bullet this one for the sake of my father).

Together, Del and I both love: food, tv, drinks, friends, games, Jesus, reading, learning new things, visiting new places, exercise, bad jokes, good jokes, being kind to people, and more. If Del starts liking something I don’t care about, 90% of the time I will try to become interested in that too. For example, Del just started listening to tons of weird pod casts, so I’ve started listening to pod casts as well. I guess I could just poo poo that new interest and move on. But if something is important to my husband, it is important to me.

Despite caring about 90% of my husband’s interests, there is that 10% I just can’t seem to care about. I try to support and nurture that 10% as much as I can. For instance, my husband likes bourbon. I think bourbon tastes like how I imagine cat piss would taste, so I don’t drink it. But for Christmas, I bought him a nice bottle I thought he would like – and some mixers. My husband is also exceptionally good at finding weird stuff on the internet. I can’t keep up with him on that, so I just try to tell him as often as possible that I love that he is learning new and weird things.

We are into Jesus. We attend church together. We serve in church together. We pray together. We read the Bible together. However, we also encourage each other to grow however Jesus is calling us to grow. My husband might be called to do one thing, and I another. When the day is done, we crawl into bed and talk about where we are at. What happened today? What do you need? How is God working in your life? How is God working in our marriage?

I am not sure what most people think you are supposed to do after a failed marriage.

When I was in my teens I had a teacher (Ms. T) whose husband left her and her children for another woman. Ms. T was the most miserable bitch I ever did meet. In the south, I think they’d call her ‘awnry.’

After Ms. T’s class, I made a silent vow to myself. I vowed that, no matter what happens to me in life – I don’t want to become an angry, bitter old woman that all the kids loathe.

When I got divorced, I guess I could have sat alone in my house crying myself to sleep about the crappy things that were happening. But I just don’t fucking have the time or energy to be miserable.

So I cried a bit. I dusted myself off. And I just kept on trucking.

I am so thankful I kept going. If I hadn't, I would've missed all of the good things that life has given me with Del.

I would've missed Disney World, and drinking at Epcot. I would’ve missed Del teaching kids how to beat box. I would’ve missed playing board games with friends. I would’ve missed trolling around Grand Rapids, sleep-all-day Saturday, watching too much Netflix, napping in the backyard, bonfires, cuddling, smoking cloves, listening to pod casts, and enjoying music.

I’ve taken some punches, but so has every other person on the earth. At some point, you just have to realize that life is unfair, but you still get to choose whether or not to be happy – and whether you want to miss all of the good things.

On lowering your expectations…

I’m just giving up on expecting so much of other people.

And I couldn't be happier about it.

When I was sixteen I knew a guy named Andrew. Andrew was, ahem, a breath taking sight. He was smart, funny, handsome and kind. However, he was terrible at finding someone to date. One night, Andrew, his older brother David, and I were talking about Andrew’s terrible dating dilemma (it was like an episode of Dawson’s Creek). Andrew was blathering on endlessly about how difficult it is to find a soul mate, when David stopped him and said ‘You know what Andrew. If you’re having trouble finding a woman who meets your expectations, all you have to do is… lower your expectations.'

I use to think David was an idiot. Now, I think he might have been onto something.

The other day my husband and I were talking about ministry. We are both involved in our church, and we were discussing the pros and cons of what we were going through. While we were chatting it out, I said to my husband that, for me, I thought the hardest part of ministry was…. watching people fail.

If you’re well churched, you know what I mean.

Hell, if you’re just a regular person that has your shit together, you know what I mean.

Okay, if you have a Facebook account and a vast array of friends, you know what I mean (but I digress).

When you are in ministry (at least at the church where my husband and I serve) you watch people come in and out the door. We are lucky to have a solid base of amazing people that come to our church. However, we also have a large portion of people that come in and out on a regular basis.

Some people I meet once, and never see again. I probably couldn't tell you their names, or even remember their faces.

Some people I have gotten to know for a few weeks or months, and then they leave to go onto something else.

The group that I struggle with, are the people that come for a long period of time – and never do anything with their church experience. They never serve anywhere. They never try to meet other people. They never try to dig into The Bible. They never try to understand God. They never try to become a better person.

Honestly, if I really think about why the hell it bothers me to watch people fail, it is likely three fold. 

First, it probably bothers me because I see something in them that I also see in myself. I see anger in them, and am pissed off that I still struggle with anger (yes, I see the irony). I see a lack of forgiveness in them, and I feel sad that I struggle to forgive so many people (too many people). In a sea of people, all I can see is our sins.

Second, it bothers me because – really – there isn't a damn thing I can do about other people choosing to continue life patterns that I disagree with. Our church is full of resources. We have small groups for people to meet others with similar life styles. We have volunteer opportunities within the church, and within our community. We have amazing pastors who are the most giving people I have ever met. We have congregants who would give their limbs to help a stranger. And – most importantly – 95% of the time - all we do is talk about Jesus. If you walk in the doors, we will shove Jesus down your throat – because He is just that fucking awesome. The hard part about ministry is, you can bring a person to Jesus, but you can’t make them drink the Holy water. And it is SOOOO painful for me to watch people, day in and day out, just stand at the pool and never jump in. I've tried pushing, it doesn't work. I've tried dunking, it doesn't work. Only Jesus can lead you to Jesus. Not me. And damn it, it is sooooo frustrating.

Third, and finally, it bothers me because people aren’t doing what I would do. Let’s be honest, most of us pick friends who agree with us on most issues because all we really want – is to know that our thoughts and opinions are valid. And if I see a bunch of people who are living in a way that is opposite of my lifestyle, it can make me feel like I am somehow less valid. When I see someone who won’t stop drinking to save their family, I get pissed off that they can’t see beyond the bottle. When I see someone who spends all their time on work, and completely abandons their children, I get ticked off that they cannot see their own priorities. All I see is – everything that everyone else is doing wrong. All I see is – everything that everyone else should be doing because I do it that way.
And that thinking – my thinking - is just the shittiest thinking of all.

It is the shittiest thinking of all because it pushes all focus on to – you guessed it – other people. And the moment you are focusing on other people’s shit, you start thinking that your’s doesn't stink.

We need to – I need to – stop expecting so dang much of people. People will never be what we want them to be, because we should not be living to please other people. We should be living to please God. I’m not sure what lowering my expectations looks like. I don’t have a list of rules or guidelines. But I know that if I keep living this way, it will lead to bitterness. Bitterness towards other people, and Bitterness towards God.

And if I am expecting so much of others, what are they expecting of me? Do people look at me and see someone who still can’t get it together? Honestly, sometimes I think they should. Because I don’t have it all figured out.

There are so many things I struggle with. I struggle with anger, forgiveness, sarcasm, control issues, and so much more.

Yet, how on earth can I be struggling with these things, when I am surrounded every single day by all of the resources of one of the best churches in the world?

And when I stop thinking about what everyone else is doing wrong, and only focus on myself… what happens?

Suddenly, all I see is a pile of brokenness that feels like it will never be fixed.

The only thing I can think to do when I feel like that broken pile, is to stop and take a look around. In that moment, what I see is a group of other people that are just as broken as I am.

A church is not full of perfect people. A church is just full of people. We come to church hoping to get better. I hope we do. I hope I do. We can all help each other become better people.

But in the end, there is only person that can fix it all. And He will. And He does.

On teaching 'bad' kids...

When I was eighteen or so, I use to teach swimming lessons to kids.

One of the worst kids I ever taught was a ten year old boy named Daniel. Daniel was a jerk. He interrupted me, he would splash, dunk, and hit other kids, he hardly listened to any instruction I gave him. One day Daniel was being exceptionally terrible. To handle Daniel, I put him on time out. While he was in time out, he started yelling and throwing things at us. I didn’t know what to do, so I just started yelling at him. My yelling stopped Daniel in his tracks. He completely froze. I remember wanting Daniel to feel terrible. I wanted him to stop acting like a jerk and start listening to me.

I still think about Daniel, and how small I must have made him feel. He was a kid, so he probably doesn’t remember some dumb teenager that kind of taught him how to swim. But I can’t help but wonder… does he remember me? If he does remember me, I wonder what he thinks. Does he remember how small I made him feel? Does he remember that I yelled at him when I didn’t have to? I don’t know why Daniel acted like a jerk, but I am guessing he had something going on in his life and he was just trying to find some way to let it out.

I have always regretted yelling at Daniel. I regret yelling at him not because he didn’t deserve it. I regret it because I remember wanting him to feel small. Ugh – what a crappy thing to do to another human being. Why do we want other people to feel small? Does it really add anything of value to our lives?

I recently had a ‘Daniel’ while teaching Kid’s Journey (our churches Sunday school). I had a kid that wouldn’t listen, was hitting another kid (his brother), and was just being difficult. If you have ever babysat, had a sibling, are a parent, or have taught a kid – you know it is frustrating to be around a kid that is having a hard time paying attention.

The thing is, I have changed. I am not eighteen years old, I’ve been doing this a little bit longer, and I have now encountered dozens of Daniels.

There was a part of me that wanted to yell at this kid. However, the part of me that wants other people to feel small – has somehow departed. I don’t know where that part of me went, but I am so happy it is gone.

When the kid interrupted me, I asked him to raise his hand.

When the kid hit his brother, I stepped in between them.

When the kid was saying terrible things about his family, I asked him to say more about his feelings.

I also tried to give the kid TONS of positive affirmation. When he cut out some paper, I told him ‘Great work!’, and when he helped clean up I said, ‘Nice job! You are so great!’

I am not sure what other people would have done. Honestly, I think other people probably would have been a little bit harsher. I am guessing other people would have put him on time out, or yelled at him, or talked to his mom about his behavior.

Teaching Kid’s Journey where I teach is different from teaching at school and it is different from parenting.

There are some kids I will only meet once, and then I will never seem them again. I don’t see these kids every single day of the week, or even multiple times a week. Some kids I meet don’t know me, and sometimes I will only get to know them for sixty minutes of one day of their entire life.

In this position, I need to ask myself, ‘What do I really want these kids to know?’ 

I once listened to a sixty year old woman tell people about her journey as a Christian. She said that her family never had the opportunity to go to church, and so she didn’t grow up in a Christian home. However, when the woman was five years old a preacher stopped by their house and a kind man told her ‘Jesus loves you very much.’

I don’t know where Daniel is. I hope he turned out to be awesome. If I met Daniel today, I would tell him I am sorry for sucking. If I never get the chance to do that, then moving forward, I want other Daniels to know that there is something better. No one comes to Jesus through me. People can only come to Christ, through Jesus. However, I am exceptionally lucky to be in the position where I can tell kids from all different backgrounds ‘Jesus loves you very much.’

That is what I want these kids to know. I want them to know, that in a world that can be super difficult and super shitty, that there is something they can cling to.

On waiting for permission...

I've mentioned this a few times, so I don't want to harp on it. However, I use to be in an unhealthy marriage. The person I was married to was exceptionally controlling. I was not allowed to bake, attend church, visit friends, spend money, buy certain food, etc. etc. etc.. I am no longer in that relationship. Today, I am married to an amazing husband, and we have a great marriage.

Taking a tradition from our friends (thanks Paul & Kelly), my husband and I decided to make New Year's resolutions for each other. We each decided to make three. For me, my husband resolved that I should: 3) Reduce my chronic neck pain from a 10 to something lower, 2) start a small group at church, and 1) do more creative stuff.

Since he gave me the resolutions, I have taken on being more creative.
-Last week I redecorated our spare bedroom. I made two paintings (I haven't painted in years), got a new duvet cover, and found some cool decorations from Goodwill.
-I baked new desserts: an apple tart, raspberry & strawberry ice cream, and a pannekoeken.
-I cooked new dinners: chicken curry and Italian soup.

As I started, years of experimental creativity came flooding back to me. My mom was great at encouraging us to try new things. I use to draw all the time. My mom and I once spent too much money on card making supplies, and on a food dehydrator, and on so many other things. I dabbled in photography. I painted. I wrote. I baked. I made some thing - from other things.

One thought hit me as I was making soup, "Why the hell was I waiting for permission for this?"

Abusive relationships steal. Sometimes I don't realize what was stolen, until it is returned to me. My ex-husband didn't steal my creativity (no one could do that). What he did steal - was permission. I use to know it was OK to create, but he took that from me. Thankfully, my wonderful husband gave it back to me. My new husband gave me permission. And two days ago, I didn't even realize it was gone.

Making my soup, a list of other things I want to create twirled in my brain. I want to get better at my job - by making fewer data errors. I want to create new charts in excel that are easier for people to understand. I want to re-decorate our bedroom (the old owners painted it tan. Why tan? Always tan!). I want to re-do our bathroom, and make it orange. I want to... I want to... I want to create.

I use to think I knew all of the things that were stolen from me. I am learning that I am not fully aware of all of the things that were taken. If the last few days are an indicator, I think I have learned that there is still more waiting to be returned.

Life is about progress, not perfection. I am not sure what is missing, but I know I will be made whole again.

God gave us a world that was perfect, but we have fallen from that. Bit-by-bit, we will make it better. We have to make it better, because the other option would just plain suck. Any why would you want to live as a person who steals, when you could live like my husband... and give permission.

On my 3 favorite stories from teaching kids about Jesus...

I have been working with kids at our church for about two years now. When I started I told our (then) kid’s leader to throw me in a room and let me go – so she did (thanks Beth). Some Sundays I held babies in the nursery (LOVE babies). Other Sundays I taught art to fourth graders. A few Sundays I did snack time and sang “Clean up, clean up….” with pre-schoolers. Now, for the last year I have been leading Kids Journey at The Hub, which is small Westwinds plant located in Jackson, MI. Every Sunday for the last year I have been teaching Jesus to kids through art, science, stories and music. In the process, they have taught me more about Jesus and myself than I ever thought imaginable.

I love being around kids, and I love volunteering at our church. After doing it for a while, I thought it was kind of selfish not to share some of my stories with others. If you belong to a church, I feel like it is important to share your talents and experiences with others. This intent of this blog is to do that. I am good with kids, and I have a bunch of amazing experience. Jesus didn't put us all together because he wanted us to be alone, right?

Here are my top three experiences from hanging out with kids in the last two years. I could’ve written dozens, but these came to my heart first.

#3: The worst class ever.

One day, I had the worst class EVER. I had about thirty fourth graders from hell that descended upon me in the art room of chaos. It was supposed to be a lesson about Moses and his family, but it turned into some crazy kids spilling paint and saying mean things to each other. At the end, there was crap everywhere, none of the kids were listening to me, and I never taught a word about Moses. I felt like an utter failure.

I started to clean up the room as one of our pastors walked by. He took one look at me and said, “Are you okay?” Then, I started balling my eyes out. I told him I felt like I sucked. I told him the kids were crazy, and I just cried. He told me I was doing ok. Then, he prayed with me (thanks John).

I told our kid’s leader Terri about my experience, and she told me that I didn't suck. She told me I was amazing, and that I was doing the best I could (thanks Terri).

Then, the next week, I came back to help. I stood around waiting for Terri to throw me in a room. Terri, being far wiser than I, walked up to me and said, “Are you kidding, go home! You have had enough.”

I learned two important things from the class. First, I learned that in teaching – sometimes you fail. In reality, it wasn't that bad. No one got hurt, most kids finished their painting, and the kids had a really good time. I just felt like a failure because my perfect plan didn't go as planned. That is how life is. Sometimes you have these beautiful plans, and then sometimes – it all goes to shit. While you are in it, it feels terrible. However, if you take a minute to look around you quickly realize… life isn't falling apart, it just feels like it. Second, I learned that my church has some amazing leaders. When I felt like poop, two people were there to tell me I was doing great, and to tell me to sit out when I needed a break.

#2: The worst kid ever.

In one of my first weeks teaching, I met a kid that I really disliked (oh man, I probably shouldn't admit that). I was frustrated that he didn't listen, and mad that he broke every rule I had laid out.

After teaching, I called one of my friends and told her about the kid. My friend said, “It is your fault. You have the ability to help that kid, and you didn't do it.” Face. Slapped. Lesson. Learned. Then, my friend gave me some tips to try the next time I had the kid.

The next time I had the kid, I tried a different approach. Instead of telling him what to do, I gave him options (duh…). When he got bored, I found little tasks for him to do (duh...). I gave him TONS of positive affirmation every step of the way (duh...).

Today, this kid is my favorite (oh man, I probably shouldn't admit that either). Whenever I teach, I hope he is there. Now, I understand his sense of humor, and I get why he tries to break rules. Now, I understand his brain. Now, when I get to be around him, we are super sassy to each other. When I am explaining rules, we give each other a knowing look. I know he is waiting to try to break every rule. He knows I am waiting to tell him… “Hey…. No……”

The worst kid ever, is now, my favorite kid ever. The longer I help out, I know I will get to meet even more kids like this. I will get to see them grow, evolve, and change. If I am lucky, I will get the chance to understand them.

#1: Jesus. Every time.

Today was a full day of kid’s ministry. I got to hang out with twenty kids. I got to hold a two month old baby and a sixth month old baby. I got to hold three toddlers that were sad or crying: one missed his mom (welp), one missed her friend, and one missed his dad (bahhh). I got to do a science experiment with elementary kids where we played with spit. I got to play Battleship with an awesome kid. I got to do so much cool stuff! Next week, I get to do it all over again.

Every week, I get to be Jesus with these amazing children. Now, I don’t mean that like “I’m God! Listen to me!” (I’m not a surgeon). I mean, I get to hold precious babies, and hold crying toddlers. I get to spend time talking with children about Jesus. I get to see these amazing people grow up. In turn, these children have helped me be a better person.

When I started with kids, I was very impatient and incredibly anal. In two years, my patience has grown tenfold, and I have chilled out a TON. I’m still kind of impatient, and a bit anal – but hey – its about progress not perfection.

I am more patient, because you cannot always rush children. If I rush them, I won’t get to see what they create. If I rush them, I won’t get to hear about what they did this week. If I rush them, they won’t feel cared about.

I am way less controlling, because I've learned to let go. One day we were doing a play about the parable of the mustard seed. The kids were supposed to pretend to throw some seeds on the ground while dressed like a farmer and his wife. The old Stephanie would've picked out the kids outfits and told them where to stand. The old Stephanie would've found some seed prop and told the kids exactly what to do. Instead, I didn't do either of those things. So, the farmer wore an army outfit and a cowboy hat, and his wife wore a prom dress and a masquerade mask. And instead of seeds, they threw crayons (half of which our now broken). If I had tried to control everything, it would've been boring. When I let go of control, the kids came up with something better than I could’ve imagined. And, I’m sure they had more fun in the process.

I have had the chance to be Jesus to dozens of children. I have gotten to be kind, and patient, and loving. In return, I have gotten more back than I have ever given. I am a better person now than I was when I started, and I have children to thank for it.

If you are a Westwinds or Hub person and you want to grow through volunteering, I hope you talk to someone about that. Please talk to me, or Del, or Paul, or Jess (seriously - Jess is AMAZING), or anyone. We love you guys! I hope you find a way to connect with others like I have.

If you don’t have a church at all, but feel called – I hope you find some place that you love as much as I love my church. If you ever want to try out a church, you are always welcome at The Hub or Westwinds.

If you hate church or loath organized religion, I hope you find something in your life that helps you feel loved and fulfilled.

More than anything, if you have something you are good at, I hope you find a way to share it with others. If you have some good experiences, I hope you can tell someone (like maybe me) about it.