Death by Death

Arriving, I drop immediately to my knees, instinctively brushing away the earth from carved stone.  Outlining every word with my fingers I remember our baby boy. Re-membering our family…the entirety therein.  We are all there together. All members.

Grass, earth, and smudge cover the piercing words set, now in stone.

I wipe clean every bit. Just like Jesus did for me.

Daddy jumps into help. Rushing to the car for liquid… let’s make it shine. No words exchanged, we both just knew. This was the earthly resting place of our son, it must be well kempt. Hands wiping carved granite, hearts beating both pain and praise.

Though set in stone, this is not the final word. Death. For us in Christ it is the doorway to resurrection. If we are wrong we are the laughing stock of the world, for certain. But, oh, if we are dead on…the greatest life of all awaits. Conquering death, by His death, we await resurrection life. Trusting that He wipes us clean…that which we feel is set in stone about us. Our shame, our failing, our inability to get it right, our secret envy, our addictions…not the final word for those in Christ.  Death, defeated by death. The ironic wisdom of the Only Wise God.

“Where, O death, is your victory?

Where, O death, is your sting?”

                                        1 Corinthians 15:55

Sister meets brother…

...mere shadows of the meeting yet to come!

Praise be to God, did not one die…the other would not have lived…Trusting the mysteries of life and death in God. Pain and praise.

Family will be re-membered once again. Today we re-member to bring him near…just as we re-member His sacrifice to bring Him near in the Eucharist.   

Thank you to all who helped make it possible to set these words in stone…

Death…then life! The order of the Kingdom. 

Stare

Another week swept on by, summer creeping in. My love for the outdoors surging again as I stroll under green life bursting from branches high. The beauty from outside fills me within. Writing calls, but this time of year I find the lucidity of my mind waning as I long to experience life full in this new season. Writing is borne of experience. I have lists of things in my synapses popping about, but visceral is my desire. The keyboard can stay indoors…I don’t want to. Hoping you have some time to stand and stare this long weekend.

What is the life if, full of care,

We have not time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs

And stare as long a sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,

Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,

Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,

And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can

Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this is if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.

“Leisure” by William Henry Davies

"What?, Is there something on my head"
(This is what happens when I leave my daughter with Aunt Sarah)

Out cold. Jeff walked in on her napping like this. Apparently she fell asleep reading. 

Yes, I put my daughter in the bathtub while I was mopping the floors. But besides that, she found the ceiling fan and decided to put up her feet and stare for a while. 

"TOES!"
If you have a better caption for this one please leave it in the comment section :)  

That Woman: Part Two

So, let’s spend some more time with that woman. Since I am feeling a bit less guarded in her presence I am ready to understand her a bit more. Truth bringing peace, as it often does.

I hope that as you continue to read about her you may catch a greater vision of womanhood.  I am working on it.  I cannot find it anywhere in our culture of extremes and sex and commercialism and perfection and…well, you get the picture. Some of us need a more realistic vision, you know, a counter-culture to the “women can/should do everything” (be mother, be sexy, be intelligent, run a company, bake amazing cakes, have a perfect home, garden, quilt, etc.) mantra that has left many a woman exhausted and unfulfilled.  And some of us need a freeing vision, a counter to the pseudo-Christian 1950’s traditional Americana view that confines women to a short list of roles. If we spend much time in the Kingdom of God we often find that God’s truth brings this radical freedom where the conventional, cultural wisdom fails us. That failing wisdom gives us extremes and places us in camps so we can polarize and judge one another. “I stay home with my kids” (read: you don’t love your children if you don’t). “I am working on advanced degrees” (read: you are selling yourself short by staying at home and I am better than you). “I grow my own vegetables and can them for winter” (read: you don’t? You probably eat fast food, too, no wonder your butt looks like that…).  Not everyone who says these things means these things, of course. But with all the mixed messages of womanhood in our culture that lacks biblical wisdom, sometimes speaker means it and sometimes it is just the hearer who hears it. Pride on one end or shame on another. Whatever happens in these conversations, at times, it polarizes.  And sometimes they are not spoken; sometimes they are airbrushed and slapped on the cover of a magazine for greater cultural dissemination. It’s laughable, really.

I truly thank God for women in Scripture that so often break the mold of cultural, or counter-cultural, womanhood.  Whether we are open to listening or not, these women are speaking and have been for millennia. So let’s engage that one woman again. That proverbs 31 woman.

After my initial encounter with her, I jumped into a biblical commentary to get a further take from some who have studied her (and other parts of Scripture) in the original languages.  Though I like to name my children with names of Hebrew origin and with beautiful meanings, I actually know nothing of the original language. I made a bullet list of some notable  observations:

•  This proverb is actually a women’s description of a woman’s role, not a man’s description. Verse one says specifically “The words of King Lemuel. An oracle that his mother taught him:” (emphasis mine). 
• The Hebrew word “hayil” is more properly rendered capable rather than noble. And in fact rather than a “noble wife” it would be better to read “capable woman.”
• The order of her roles and character are not ordered in importance or logic but rather poetically, the first letter of each verse (from verses 10-31) using the chronological order of the Hebrew alphabet.
• Women do teach as well, thus fulfilling God’s vision of Genesis 1 and 2 as man and woman together represent the full image of God to the world.

The main gist I gained from reading a couple commentaries is that this woman is neither the laughable must-d0-all-and-be-sexy-doing-it woman our culture forces upon us nor the backlash, counter-cultural traditional woman with small vision and specified roles. And, ugh, isn’t it so much more difficult when we cannot put things into boxes? I mean then, how can I relate to women who choose to work more than I do, or order food out more than I do, or make quilts, or open businesses, or use disposable diapers. Ah, if we don’t have categories how then can we relate? I need to put you in my box to decide if you are better, worse, smarter, thriftier, healthier, more environmentally conscious, make more money, etc., etc., than I do. When I can position you I can then bolster my ego figuring where I am better, and thus feel pride or where I am less, and thus feel guilt.  Exhausting, yeah? Of course, I say this in jest. Like-minded groups are great and offer support, but become detrimental to our soul and our societies when we use them like this.  There are so many women I know who “don’t like other women” or “don’t enjoy women’s groups” or despise “women’s ministry”…and I understand. But there must be another way, and, in my opinion, begins with a better vision of womanhood.

I see around me, and even in my church have spoken with women, who struggle with a healthy vision of womanhood…I am one of them!  Most women go with either the can-do-all and manage all things at once in order to prove the traditional role obsolete, if only to themselves, or the “holier” road of home-is-all-that-matters and I will focus only here.  Yes, yes, there are those women that do either of these scenarios well and in line with how God is speaking to them for their season of life. Most certainly, yes. But motivation for the way we are living our lives should not be based solely on tradition or cultural movements, but on biblical principles. These principles generally unnerve those in any camp because they are often baseline and do not offer exacts in our daily life.  I mean, what do you do with a woman that “looks to the ways of her household” (v.26) and sells real estate (v.16)? A woman that plants a vineyard (v.16), feeds the needy (v. 20), and sells products (v.24)?  I just cannot categorize her, by golly.  

And maybe that is the point.

No other woman that Scriptures highlights does all of these things. Maybe because they are all actual women and it is likely impossible to do all of them when you are an actual woman and not a description. (Phew! Any other women out there breathing a sigh of relief?).  But what we do get is that a woman can be any of these things to varying degrees and probably in different seasons. We all have natural limitations, abilities, and needs both personal and familial. We must discern our own life choices through Scripture and within community that will speak to us honestly, challenging us to use all of ourselves appropriately in each our stage of life, whatever that may be. And we should be gracious to others in their decisions. It is not because all decision are made well, or because everyone is doing what is right for them. I don’t think that everyone I know is necessarily living just as God may have them. Some are trying too hard, some are not fulfilling all the pieces of themselves as called by God, some unwilling to look at themselves out of fear of what may be seen.  But I also do not know the entire picture of everyone’s lives so I best make judgments lightly and keep my most strict judgment for myself.  Charity of soul is rarely refused. What I see is that living into a role of a cultural fad or a roll-back-the-clock, traditional, counter-cultural response may neither be the answer. Listing to God through the lens of Scripture, prayer and community…that is our calling.

My prayer is that we neither push beyond ourselves nor cut ourselves short, ladies. But that we listen to all God has for wherever we are. That we allow Him to be the great Iconoclast, as a professor of mine once said. Every moving us into greater depths of maturity, love, and life-giving service.

So, I leave this second installment with an interesting quote from the New Bible Commentary that I read about that woman we are thinking about.  

“Lemuel’s mother (who, as the queen-mother might exercise very significant political power) encourages the complete woman to make the most of and to push the boundaries of what a woman’s role might mean in a patriarchal society. Men generally need little encouragement to make their mark and achieve; women can be tempted to settle for the demure role in life, which has often been all that such society expects of them, and thus fail to realize their God-given potential for making their own mark. There are, of course, other aspects of Scripture’s vision of womanhood (such as those in the Song of Songs), but this encouragement to womanhood to achieve is an important aspect of that vision as a whole” – New Bible Commentary

This concludes the second of three parts. Blessings on your journey. 

Just a Swingin'

This post is an ode to my favorite song as a little girl. Swingin' came out in 1983 when I was 4 years old and I distinctly remember thinking how cool it was that there was a song on the radio all about swinging!  I have posted the song from youtube below, but before you laugh just know that ALL my parents listened to was country so I did not have much to choose from J I hope you get a kick out of this song while taking in the pictures Elsa's first time a swingin'.  Happy Friday!

That Woman: Part One

That esteemed woman. I hadn't known much about her personally, just hearsay. This distance has allowed me to judge her more easily. Oh, and judge her I have…as outdated, out of touch, and, at the heart of it, antagonistic to my idea of what it means to be a woman. Yet, I have compared myself to this woman I have barely known at times, usually to my detriment, which is probably also what has made me dislike her so. She has made me feel…correction, I have made me feel “less than” when I am mindful of her. Ignorance, after all, is often the breeding ground of ill feelings. Where there lacks truth there lacks freedom.  So, after all these years of being unfairly oppressed by (read: feeling ignorantly insecure about) this woman I have decided to meet her one on one.  How did I find her? That was the easy part; I have always known where she was. In my Bible she is on page 552 her description takes up the final chapter of the book of Proverbs.

Yep, that’s the woman. The Proverbs 31 Woman.

Surprised? I am. I didn’t know I had so many ill-feelings toward this woman until a few months back when I felt the nudge from the Spirit of God to study her. “Ewww” was basically the maturity of my first response back to God. I did not wish to box myself into some role within my vocation of motherhood by studying some antiquated woman.  Frankly, I know all I need to know about her and I wish to know no more. But thanks for the idea! Got anything else, God? I would really like to move on to something else. Well, in good, God-type fashion He would go nowhere else until I listened to that Word of His. So, with exemplary maturity I begrudgingly opened to the proverb and began reading.

Yes, yes, I had read the words of the proverb before.  But, in all my 30+ credit hours of Bible/Theology, never had I studied her. I only listened to others speak of this “proverbs 31 woman”, heard of a ministry with her namesake, maybe a book or  two, and I distinctly remember guys in college looking for her on campus with vomit-inducing piety. Piety is an honorable characteristic to possess no doubt, but this kind was vomitus, just trust me. The only girls on campus who fit this bill were the ones there to gain only marriage from college, who would follow these guys wherever in the world they went (without consideration), and had basically few, if any, needs of their own save existing to meet the needs of their husband.  This woman always had this 1950’s Americana feel me…and I esteemed her not.  

Once realized, I do try to hold my preconceptions loosely and hold onto the foundational understanding that God’s Truth is freeing. Therefore, if I am feeling bound up I am either incorrect in my assessment of said truth or I am resisting it because of my own stubbornness and sin. So, by this figuration, I conclude I have nothing to lose but my ignorance or my stubborn heart.  This foundational understanding usually gives me the gumption to jump in with trust.

I began by reading through once to get the overall feel again…it had been a while. I then created two main categories on a piece of notebook paper labeled “Is” and “Does” into which I fit most of the verses about this woman. It looks something like this:

Is

Does

Far more precious than jewels Trusted by her husband Like a ship of the merchant Not afraid Strength & dignity Not idle Kind

Good and not harm to her husband Seeks wool and flax Works with her hands Awakens while it is dark to provide food Considers a field and purchases it Plants a vineyard Dresses herself with strength Makes her arms strong Perceives if merchandise is profitable Puts her hands on the distaff Laughs at the time to come Opens her hands to the poor Makes bed coverings with fine linen Makes garments and sells them Opens her mouth with wisdom Teaches kindness Looks to the ways of her household

Wow, so I notice she does a lot of things! But based on the fact that she “works with willing hands” (v.13) she does not merely exist subserviently in her responsibilities but enjoys them. Equally notable, though she is hard at work providing and preparing she “laughs at the time to come” (v. 25) revealing her surprising lack of stress amongst it all. Okay, okay, I like these two qualities about her…a lot.

Under these two lists I wrote more about my initial reaction on this sheet of notebook paper:

“I actually notice many things that are already being done by me. I thought I would read this and it would be this far-reaching idyllic woman. But as I read I am not pressed upon in that way. I saw things I ready do, do not do at all, and things I want to grow in. But also that the quotidian tasks that fill my days are, in fact, holy. God took time to be sure so many of these tasks were put into a chapter in a timeless book of wisdom and, inasmuch, deserve consecration to God task by task, that He may fill them and guide me. That I may, less & less, dichotomize life into the hallowed & unhallowed. But that all of my life become one:

                                        The purchases and considerations I make

                                                Hallowed

                                        Dressing my daughter

                                                Hallowed

                                        Speaking kindly to my husband

                                                Hallowed

                                        Strengthening my frame (exercise)

                                                Hallowed

                                        Scrubbing le toilette [yes, I wrote le toilette…weird]

                                                Hallowed

                                        Praying for my friends and neighbors

                                                Hallowed

This is what I notice right off.”

There is something powerful about inviting the Spirit of the living God into your Scripture reading. He will reveal Himself. I was refreshed by the end of this first study of her.  Even the part in verse 15 where is states “she rises while it is yet night and provides food for her household…” I was then waking 3-4 times a night to feed Elsa. I connected with this woman in many ways. I am not calling myself a “Proverbs 31 Woman”, but I am saying I related with some of these things as a hard-working mother of a newborn, meal-planning, cleaning my home, loving my husband, managing our resources. Not near perfection on any of them, but dare I say she may not have either? I am getting off track as I do not desire to assess her abilities, but I am expressing encouragement in finding the places I connected with her versus the many years I spent despising her. This was a necessary bridge to gap so I could gently begin to hear what the Lord was saying to me:

Hallowed. These things are hallowed. Even this woman did these things.

So when I clean, manage, love, plan, care, feed…I am in the presence of a Holy God. In a Holy place. For the ever-visioning dreamer I am this is profoundly settling. I want to do what matters. I really love to see the bigger picture (though when I do not see it, faithfulness must remain my posture).  As I work on a Vision for Motherhood I am warmed by this woman. Challenged by her as well, I will likely never do all the things she has done. But the things I do, they are sacrosanct as I offer them up.

That woman, she continues to live into her calling of wisdom (v. 26).

{this concludes part one…stay tuned!}

Top 8 Signs of Sleep Deprivation

8. You lose your keys somewhere …in Home Depot…

7.  When you start brushing your teeth you realize you have your  husband’s toothbrush already in your mouth L

6. The random, rhythmic mono-syllabic word-songs you sing to entertain your baby (think do dee dah type stuff) begin to make the words “leaky bum” in them, revealing the depth of your subconscious thoughts. (this one specifically goes something like " uh leaky bum, dooty, dah, dee, pee pee").

5. You sing those same songs in public out loud for an indefinite amount of time before realizing it. May I re-emphasize the out loud  portion of that sentence? 

4. A full week and a half after your husband’s birthday, you finally make his birthday cake…

3. At the store one afternoon numerous people tell you your baby girl is “such a cute boy” but you are too tired to care. It elevates as numerous people begin commenting at that moment about the boy, they begin telling her she is “such a stud”, but now it is too late (and you are too tired) to correct the situation.

2. You are already in bed and your husband comes and asks why his toothbrush is soaked and yours is dry. Yes, you have used his a second time, this time finishing the entirety of the brushing experience and never noticing.

1. You leave the store, load the baby in the car and proceed to the passenger side of the vehicle…except you are the only adult with you…

 Reason for sleep deprivation

What? I am just chillin' with my papa.

I am such a big girl in my walker...

...we use the word "walker" loosely :)

Cool and old school. 

Tummy time in my new nursery.

Mid-sneeze capture!

Little miss deep blue. 

Vazir

This past weekend we attended the 1st birthday of our much-loved friends’ twin baby girls. Born at just over three pounds last April, we celebrated their life this year and their parents making it through the most sleep-deprived year of their lives. Hosting this shin-dig was Persian friends of the twins’ parents, so we went to celebrate knowing we would be meeting new people.

Crossing the threshold of the home we were immediately introduced to a couple Mohammeds, a couple Mojgans, and a Kate, all this before emerging from the vestibule! Warm, wonderful people in a warm, beautiful home. I had no idea who went with whom and feeling a bit overwhelmed I found my little place on the floor playing with Elsa and the other kids. 

Once the international display of food was laid out for us all to eat our fill, the invisible walls between could-be friends began to disappear.  Food has a way of doing that, doesn’t it?  Jeff and I sat at a table with others with whom we could not speak.   Smiling and attempting introductions we met the man with the tan button-up shirt and the yellow-striped tie to whom the rest of the table belonged. I said to him, Hello, my name is Kimberly.  He said My name is Vazir, it means minister. Like a leader.  (Think Prime Minister or Minister of Finance).

He did not speak much English, but he knew how to properly introduce himself.  In fact he knew so little that was nearly the extent of our entire lunchtime exchange. He did introduce another family member, and the meaning of their name as well, which now escapes me. We did manage to converse a bit more through a woman who came to sit at our table. Also Persian, she had moved to the States from Iran 9 years ago, her English now perfected. She did a bit of translating for us and then she and I continued on conversing, primarily about Vazir and Iran.

Launching directly into their Iranian history, Mojgan told me that in 1979 Islamic extremist took power and the penalty for not converting was execution. She, herself a refugee of now almost a decade ago, still spoke with such passion about her homeland, her frustration and disappointment over its corrupted power. She is not a Muslim or Christian or of any religious affiliation, she told me. She was a "free-thinker", she said, and proud to be so. She told me how she was a social worker and outspoken against the government, which is partly why they needed to leave the country as refugees in fear for their lives.

Mojgan told me some about Vazir as well.  He is also a refugee. He arrived last week…whoa, last week… when she spoke those words time stalled for that moment as I looked at their smiling faces around the table (Vazir, his wife, his children) and wanted to know so much more. There must be so. much. more.  The snippet I got was that Vazir spend 11 years in prison because of his political activism, speaking against his government and their fundamentally skewed ideologies, leading to their outrageous crimes against their people. In fact, Vazir himself escaped through mountain villages into Turkey where he stayed with is family until he could get permission to come to the States. This permission is impossible to get in Iran, as it is one of three countries that do not have an American Embassy.  

I sat their taking all of this in.  When Vazir had told me his name, and then immediately its meaning I was profoundly warmed, even before I knew any of his story. The meaning of a name is important and I loved that he introduced himself with it. I believe it can be a powerful way to set one in their historical place within a family or an era or maybe a calling. Naming can give meaning to our all-to-often floating existence in the current culture where place and identity is lost yet so deeply long for. Naming can also be freeing. You know, calling what is…what is. Like how those who enter AA must introduce themselves as an alcoholic, Hello, my name is ______________, and I am an alcoholic. This is not meant for shame, but for freedom. Jesus said the truth will set us free (John 8:32).  Is it not freeing to say both who we are, and who we are not? The great relief there is in knowing who we are.  And great relief from the burden of being who we are not. For example, in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says “Blessed are those who mourn  for they will be comforted” …but how can we accept that comfort if we do not first acknowledge we mourn? Or “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they will be filled” …but how can we find food if we are too proud to acknowledge we are hungry? Naming is powerful and essential to our freedom and our well-being.

 When I met Vazir I tried to tell him of our son Jonan Eilam. I wanted so much to say his name and what it means. Why we named him such, and how God has used that. It felt appropriate but it just did not work given all the barriers of religion, culture, and language. Plus, I felt I just needed to listen hospitably to the precious bit he was able to offer. He was proud of that name, as he should be. He was given his name birth, yet in a way is still becoming his name more and more through his life. Here he was in a new country, owning nothing, stripped bare of all but his name. And so that is what he offered to me. In fact, he told me the meaning twice during our short exchange.

My name is Vazir, it means minister. Like a leader.