SortaCrunchy

the hope that is ours

From Amanda, as part of the series on hope:

I awake in the middle of the night sandwiched between my toddler and my preschooler sleeping peacefully. As I listen to their steady breathing and snuggle in the warmth of their little bodies, my heart bursts with gratitude to the Father for blessing me with these two precious little ones.

In an instant, that gratitude is replaced with the all too familiar feeling of panic. What if something were to happen to one of them? How would I ever survive? My throat burns and tears sting my eyes. My heart races with fear and I silently weep into my pillow so I do not wake these little ones that I love so much.

Once upon a time, panic, worry and fear were strangers to me. Then, that hot July morning, I was awakened by a phone call, and they have since become frequent visitors.

"Your father has suffered a heart attack", the voice said over the line.

We rushed to the hospital only to hear that he had already passed. Later we find out that he did not suffer a heart attack, but was electrocuted on the job.

My Daddy, gone in an instant.

Now the enemy taunts me. You're going to lose your husband in a car accident. You're baby is going to get hit by a car. You are going to get cancer and leave your boys with no mother.

And I can't breathe for the fear that suffocates me.

As I wept into the pillow that night, the Lord spoke to me. "Why do you fear death? Haven't I already conquered death and the grave for you so that you may have eternal life?"

Hope.

I may not know how much time on earth I will get to spend with any of my loved ones, but as a child of God, death is something that I do not have to fear because I have been given the promise of eternal life.

Hope.

Titus 4:4-7 "But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that being justified by his grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life."

The enemy still whispers death, but as Ann Voskamp wrote, "I gasp to say God is good."

For He has given me HOPE.

photo credit

Amanda Medlin is the mama to two precious little boys and the wife to an awesome man of God. She blogs about natural parenting, homemaking, crafting and play-based learning at home. You can find her at Naturally Chic Mama.

What Are You Into This Month - April 2011

(Artist and her rendition of Mama: A Portrait in Clay)

I got lots to share, and I need lots of feedback from you. Let's do this monthly wrap-up style, shall we?

What I Am Into This Month - April 2011

On My Nightstand: Finishing N.T. Wright's Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church - that will be a post in and of itself.

When my sister raves about a book, I know it's good stuff.  Based on her recommendation, I just got Daniel Pink's A Whole New Mind: Why Right-Brainers Will Rule the Future.

And I will officially be the last person on earth to read The Help.  Finally grabbed it from Paperback Swap.

Just finished Made from Scratch: Discovering the Pleasures of a Handmade Life by Jenna Woginrich and it is WONDERFUL.  If you're the wanna-be-homesteader type, you will LOVE this one.  It's charming and whimsical and oh-my-word HELPFUL. Part memoir, part reference book, part how-to . . . it's just delightful.

Want to Read: See sidebar.

T.V. Show Worth Watching: Also filed in the Last Person On Earth folder - we just finished watching LOST.  We somehow missed this show from the beginning, and as you recall that was back in the dark ages of life before Hulu, so we never were able to get on board with it.  We marathonned through it on Netflix and, yeah.  Loved it.  Like, stayed up late at night puzzling over it. Dreamed about it. Worried over it. Sobbed through the finale.  (well, I sobbed.  Kyle's response as we watched the closing credits: "I think that meant more to you than it did to me." Hee.)

 Incredible.

And now we are adrift wondering what shall we watch next?  What do you suggest as good After Lost viewing?  To give you an idea of what we enjoy, we loved: Firefly, Dollhouse, Life, Chuck, Heroes. Totally open to suggestions.

Movie I've Seen (in or out of the theater): Um, Tangled?  Help?!

In My Ears: I pretty much keep Pandora set to my The Civil Wars station.  I edited in Drew Holcomb & The Neighbors, Mumford and Sons, Patty Griffin, and The Dixie Chicks (don't hate), and it's pretty sweet perfection.  I could listen to Poison and Wine every day for all of time and never tire of it.

Newest Blog Reads/Internet Interest:

1) Pinterest. Is Awesome. To give you an overview, I want to share this link that Aimee tweeted to me when I asked about Pinterest on Twitter: Tidy Mom's Pinterest: I'm Lovin' It.

What do I love about it? It's like taking a peek over the shoulder of your friends as they dig through their blog readers or window shop their favorite stores or search for great recipes. You get to see what they are digging, and instead of adding it to a bookmark list, you can just tack it on a board to share with others or come back to later. 

Are you on Pinterest?  You can follow me there.

2) Some people expressed how much they enjoyed the #40DayCommunity on Twitter as we shared in the Common Prayer readings together, so a small group of us are going to continue in that via hashtag #commonprayer  You can buy the book (which, yes, I recommend) or all of the readings are available online.  We would love to have you join in!

What I'm Looking Forward to Next Month:

Mother's Day.

School letting out and having my Dacey home all day.

Opening of farmers' markets.

SAM'S sized bag of salt-and-pepper pistachios.

The Rally to Restore Unity next week - hosted by Rachel Held Evans.

Spring-y spring spring time.

* * * * *

So, yeah.  That's a lot. 

But to sum up, what I need to know from you: TV series recs (available via Netflix), movie recs, book recs (always), and anything else you want to say about what you are into this month. 

(It seems like I am always changing around the categories - to see what else I've been into, click here.  If you do your own What Are You Into post, make sure to link up in the comments!)

 

Small Style: Sunshine on Clouds

For days (weeks?), we've prayed for rain.  Spring raised a sunny banner over thirsty, cracked ground here on the southern plains.  This week, the skies broke loose a bit and relented with relief.  A little, not enough, but some.

If there is one thing AJ loves, it's mud and puddles.  (Well, also dinosaurs.)  She also loves loves loves dressing up and insists on choosing her clothes daily.  As always, this is in stark contrast to her sister, who truly could not care any less about her outfit of the day.  Dacey wants to be a vet when she grows up; AJ wants to be a "clothes maker who also makes costumes."

I'm joining in with Small Style hosted by Mama Loves Papa for the first time today, and I hope you will be as entertained as I am by the get-ups - excuse me - outfits that Aliza Joy creates.

This is perfectly appropriate for puddle stomping and rock skipping, right?

sweatshirt: Target; t-shirt dress (underneath): not sure; pants:Target; rain boots: Payless

And for running errands with Mama:

dress: Jenny & Me (Big SIster hand-me-down); pants: Hanna; sunglasses: Tangled/WalMart

Dacey would rather me take pictures of her multitudinous art projects, but I did manage to snap this before church yesterday evening:

cardigan: Target (years ago, I think it's a 4T!); t-shirt dress: WalMart; pants: Target; barefeet: Mama's Influence

And Little sister at the same meal:

dress: The Children's Place (Dacey hand-me-down, years ago); pants: Target; shoes: Payless

As you may have notices, I've been in a bit of a creative slump lately.  Thinking about and grabbing shots for Small Style injected some enthusiasm into my veins this week.  I'm happy to be playing along.

 

(hope for) Positive Discipline: The Toddler Years

I have had the great joy of hanging out with a friend and her 20 month old son lately, and it's brought back a lot of memories of the (not so long ago) toddler stage of life and parenting.  Oh my GOODNESS, is that ever an intense time in parenting! 

I went with that inspiration for my newest column at Steady Mom.  I would love to have you join us in the comments over there with your questions or words of encouragement!

hope floats

Do you know Genevieve over at Mama Natural?  I'm betting you do.  She leads a large, interactive community that she describes this way: "In an artificial and processed world, we are a refuge, inspiration, and community for natural mamas"  Today, she shares with us this incredible photo and lovely thoughts on how hope floats:

I loved the title of that movie because it's so true.

Hope is that buoyancy of the soul. It's what keeps us waking up day after day  and trying again. It's the promise of Easter. It is what is and what shall become.

I took this shot of my husband one-handed as I was holding my newborn son. We played and marveled  in this sunset's beauty for what seemed like hours. As we turned to head back to the hotel, my husband made one last dash towards the light and leapt in its beauty.

Hope indeed.

(thank you, mama, for joining me in hope this month!)

hope is in the hurt, and it's bigger than our fears

At Apple Pie, Anyone?, Kate writes gorgeously about my dream life: chickens, cattle, cats, and barefeet.  The Whole Thing.  After I wrote about hope in the spring, she emailed me with the needed reminder that hope is not just for spring - it's for eternity.  She gave me permission to share this excerpt from her post What (my) kids are for:

We had children, as many of you did, because it was the next natural step.  We were blessed that it worked fairly easily and we were prepared for the basic social responsibilities of shelter, food, safety, and education.  We figured they’d be pretty cute (we were right) and that we were above-average in our ability to handle stress (we were wrong).  We knew we would pray for them and take them to church.  We knew that we wanted kids.  

I don’t remember discussing the “yes, but WHAT ARE THEY FOR?” part of kids… the “big picture that gets you through the mud” part.  I subconsciously assumed the usual: kids teach you about God, kids keep the world going, kids pay for your nursing homes. Kids are necessary and lovely and hard.

But then Rylie was born.  And then Rylie was broken.  And I began to question the point of such heartache.  Why have kids if it is going to be THIS HARD?  Is it fair to Rylie?  Is it fair to her brother?  Is it fair to us? 

And I became afraid.  Afraid of doctors.  Afraid of having more kids.  Afraid of anger.  Afraid of therapy.  Afraid… that I could not do it and I would fail.  I would fail Rylie. Afraid.

I am not, as you may think, a strong person.  I am not gifted in patience or passivity.  This past year with Rylie has brought me to my knees both spiritually and physically as I begged for answers and rest.  Clarity and help. Motivation and a supernatural heart. Why wasn’t it coming more naturally?  Wasn’t I made for this?

What was I missing?  What in the world was I missing?

I had to back to the beginning.

I expected Rylie to be born… and I expected Rylie to be fine.  I expected to deal with ‘girl’ emotions in junior high and heartbreak in high school.  I expected to right the few wrongs of my childhood, teach her to ride a bike, and to make handmade Valentines for her Kindergarten class. She would grow up, possibly start a family of her own, and continue the circle.

I did not expect for her to be broken.

•

I watched my child sit through hours of intense speech therapy drills last week.  I watched her perform over and over again, stumbling through language that is so easy for me.  On the last day, I heard the woman demand, “Say KNEE! KNEE.”

Rylie, distracted and head down, impulsively yelled “KNEE!”  She looked up, put her little hands to her little mouth, and grinned.  And then she clapped.  And then she yelled again, hopping in her seat. ”KNEE! KNEE! KNEE!”  She has never been able to say that before. 

Watching that miracle from behind the glass mirror, I realized my truth: Rylie is NOT broken.  She is the very image of God.  God, who knows what it is to hurt.  What it is to be misunderstood.   What it is to have people define you by their fears.  What it is to love unconditionally.  Rylie is a lot of things, but she is NOT broken.

Her story does not stop at her diagnosis, and, therefore, neither does mine.

What is Rylie for?  She is for redefining norms.  She is for healing old hurts. She is for second-chances. She is for seeing God in a tiny little body, fighting to be heard. She is a messenger.  She’s a game-changer.

I had it all wrong.  And, I’m sure I will again. But I am certain that I would not have learned this lesson without my child.  Not so effectively.  That’s what she is for.

And I am not afraid anymore.

I am a lot of things, but I am not afraid.

I oh-so-highly recommend you check out more writing from Katie at Apple Pie, Anyone?, especially today's piece on holy war.  And yes, that's pretty lady Rylie pictured above.

I can only HOPE to be

Oh, the incredible happenstance that is grazing on the internet in the afternoon.

I was nursing a cup of coffee, seeking relief from head-achiness, skimming Facebook (and surely not missing the irony that Facebook is often more the source of headaches than the healing), when I saw this feature on Amena Brown.

Intrigued, I clicked over to her site and found this:

 

And oh my word.

WORDS!

This delighted me to the cellular level.  With every fiber of my being, I hope to be as Amena Brown's mother was to her - instilling, nurturing, encouraging a love of words both written and spoken into the heart of my daughters.

I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

(filling this space with hope for the rest of April)

Give: HOPE

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all

-- Emily Dickinson

Oh, hello. 

Do you like my owl?  Dacey likes to spend a lot of time on my lap as we browse the delights of Etsy and Pinterest.  She knows more than anyone that my love for owls tips the scale of borderline-unhealthy.  Last week, she created this sweet girl to sit above the kitchen sink and keep me company while she is away at school.  I like her quite a bit.  (the owl and the daughter)

Well, here it is April.

Here I haven't shared my Give focus for April yet.

It's hope.

(that thing with feathers.)

I mean, it's not very original, is it?  Focusing on hope in the spring.  I can't help but to be drawn to it, though.  I adore spring with all that is within me, and it's because hope is on every wind that blows across the plains, it's tucked into the nest of every bird, it's in every tuft of white-topped dandelions.  

I sorta want to fill this space with hope for the remainder of April.

I would love to have you join me in this. Remember last year when we did the chorus of joy?  I would be honored to have your voice join me in a chorus of hope.

What can you share with this community that testifies to hope?  A story? A picture? A sentence?

This is an open invitation for you!  Email me what you want to share about HOPE - no matter how brief it might be. (megan at sortacrunchy.net)  And if you feel like you want to really expound on the topic, I want to invite you to submit a guest post on the topic.  Here are my guest post guidelines:

Download Guest post guidelines

Bring on the celebration of hope!

 

Closing Thoughts on Community and a Community of Service

I guess I'll go ahead and start by breaking a cardinal blogging rule by explaining my absence. 

A few weeks ago, Elizabeth Esther - one of my favorite writers and sister ENFP - tweeted something about how our personality type needs days that are "out to pasture."  That's pretty accurate.  I've taken a week or so out to pasture, I suppose.  Of all of the extraverts, ENFPs are the ones who need the most recovery time following engagement with people, places, and things.  I don't know why that is, it just is.  As obligations, responsibilities, and activities have picked up in the 3D world, I've found I have little left for the keyboard.

I offer my most sincere apologies, especially for those who have been faithfully following along in the 40 Days of Community.  I just . . . you know.

* * * * *

This final week of focus in the 40 Days of Community examines a community of service.

I've given a lot of thought to this because, really, this what all of these aspects of community come down to in one way or another.  Offering ourselves, our time, our lives, in service to others.

This kind of service to community goes far beyond becoming a member of a local service group or signing up for a service-oriented committee at church.  This is a lifestyle.

And let's be honest - it can be exhausting.

I want to turn to the words of someone whom I've grown to admire in a way that is unapologetic fan girl: Jen Hatmaker.  In her book Interrupted: An Adventure in Relearning the Essentials of Faith, she digs into some thoughts about Communion and what that looks like lived out.

She looks at Luke 22:13-16 and writes:

Jesus was seriously making a point with His statement in verse 15.  In Greek, He literally said, "I have desired with desire to eat this Passover with you."  Jesus was underscoring His great anticipation for this moment.  He had been waiting, and this was it.  This was monumental.  He would become living theology to change the course of history.  It was time to make old things brand spanking new.

In telling the disciples "This is My body. This is My blood," Jesus began to paint a clear picture of what it would take to follow after Him.  Jen writes, "Jesus didn't just host and serve the meal; He became the meal."  He would be broken for us, poured out for us, our redemption and our sanctification.

A moment later, He instructed His disciples to "do this in remembrance of me," making sure to use the present tense of the verb do.  Keep on doing this. 

So, wait.  What?  Keep on observing the Lord's Supper/Communion in remembrance of Him?

Well, yes.  But more. 

Jen points out that the Greek word for remembrance here is anamnesis - to make real.  She writes, "Remembrance means honoring Jesus's mercy mission with tangible, physical action since it was a tangible, physical sacrifice.  In other words, 'Constantly make this real.'"

I want for you to stop and think about that.  Does that kind of blow your mind?  This messes me up hugely.

There's more, and this is where it speaks to the idea of a community of service. 

For those moments when you have given and served and poured out and are just absolutely drained, consider this from Jen as an explanation that encourages us to know that is when we are truly partnering with Christ:

Not only was Communion a symbolic ritual, but it was a new prototype of discipleship.  "Continuously make my sacrifice real by doing this very thing." But what? What was the very thing Jesus was doing?  He was becoming broken and poured out for hopeless people.  He was becoming a living offering, denying Himself for the salvation and restoration of humanity . . . We don't simply remember the meal; we become the meal, too.

Remember how the Apostle Paul wrote to the Corinthians that "Now you are the body of Christ"?

Are the pieces fitting together yet?

THIS IS HUGE.  Jen brings it home:

Why is it so exhausting to uphold someone's heavy, inconvenient burden?  Why are you so spent from shouldering someone's grief or being an armor-bearer?  What is it that lifting someone out of his or her rubble leaves you breathless?  Because you are part of the body of Christ, broken and poured out, just like He was.  Mercy has a cost: Someone must be broken for someone else to be fed.

Paul wrote to Galatia (you know, the ones a little preoccupied with The Law): "Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." (6:2)  What did Jesus consider the most important of The Law?  Love God, love others.  And this is how: be willing to be broken, allow yourself to be poured out.

This, my sweet friends, this is the risk of community.  This is why it's easier to portion out our time, to compartmentalize our lives so that we give of ourselves in bits and pieces.

But it's in the whole-self giving that we experience true communion with Christ.  This is what it is to die to self and allow Christ to live through us.  This is what it is to know that we must be grafted to The Vine in order to be sustained from day-to-day.

Does your heart just explode to know that on the days when serving your family has nearly done you in that you can know you have been making Communion real that day?  And what about the tireless investment you have made in the life of a friend or neighbor - isn't it incredible to know that you are nourishing them with your brokenness? 

Reading this insight from Jen ignited the transforming work of Christ within me.  Does it still hurt to become the meal?  Absolutely.  But in the crushing, I know He is being made real in me.  That is a mystery far too complex to explain and far too wonderful to resist.

I would love to hear your thoughts on this: Who in your life has been broken or poured out that you might know Christ?  Who are you being broken for right now?  What is service costing you?  How are you experience Christ in the midst of the muddy work of community?

SortaCrunchy Recommends:: Half the Church: Recapturing God's Global Vision for Women

From the moment I read the email from the person at Zondervan organizing a review tour for Carolyn Curtis James's newest release Half the Church: Recapturing God's Global Vision for Women, I was sold.  Included in the email was an excerpt from the book, and in the passage I read, I heard echoed back to me what has been on my heart for over a year now.  In examining the words and works of Amy Carmichael along with reading the more recent writings in Half the Sky, James scratched what has been itchy to me about the focus of women's ministry in the contemporary church, recognizing that:

God's vision for us doesn't just reassure us that we matter and that our lives count for something.  God's vision compels us to look beyond ourselves, to ponder a picture of how things were meant to be that leaves us aching for his will to be done on earth as it is in heaven, and to look for ways to participate in moving the world toward that goal.

As I devoured the book, I found that every page bore the marks of my agreement. 

Normally, when I know I'll be writing a review on a book, I star passages and turn down page corners, noting the passages I'd like to share in my review.  By the close of the first chapter, I realized that doing that with this book would lead to some serious copyright infringement.

Zondervan has put together a little video that gives a nice overview of Half the Church:

That video offers a very, very small taste of what you'll find in the pages of this book.

What did I find to be the most compelling?

I so admire and appreciate that Half the Church is 1) absolutely grounded in careful, thoughtful study of Scripture, digging in particularly to Genesis chapters one and two, and 2) doesn't take sides in the current debate/discourse in contemporary Western Christianity about "the role of women," but rather shows how this debate completely misses the point of why women were created, what God had in mind when He created woman.

Through much of the book, James pulls the lens back so that we aren't so zoomed in what God's vision is for (mostly white) married mothers living in the suburbs, but instead shows us the incredible, broad, potent expanse of God's vision - a vision for every single one of His daughters, regardless of the country and culture in which she is born, whether or not she marries, and whether or not she has children.  We are all His image-bearers, indeed!

Finally, near the end of the book, one of the most powerful, inspiring, empowering views on women I've ever encountered: "The Ezer Unbound."  I truly cannot do justice to this chapter (without that pesky copyright infringement), but I have to say, what she says here has the power to bring about some much-needed revolution and restoration for women around the world.

Have you grown weary, disenfranchised, or just out-and-out bored with the Church's message to women?  Sister, this book is for you.  And for your sister and mother and your daughters.  And for your husband and your pastor.  And if you think you already know all that the Bible has to say about women, I invite you to sit down in the pages of Half the Church and be prepared to think again.

Zondervan has graciously given me a copy of Half the Church to a reader.  To be entered to win, simply leave a comment sharing anything related to how you have experienced the Church's message to women (encouraging or frustrating, positive or negative).  Giveaway will close on Thursday, April 14th.