The Samaritan Woman and The Next Big Thing

We run into a funny obstacle when we read our favorite familiar Bible stories: we know how they end.

During Bible study the other night, the Bible Study Beauties and I spent some time with the woman of Samaria at the well. As that camped about in my mind the next morning I realized a very simple, but startling truth. She didn't know she was going to meet Jesus that day.

Think about it. The woman didn't wake up, go about her chores, hoist her water jar thinking, "Off to meet the Savior of the world." In fact, I would contend that she was more likely preoccupied with meeting up with haters than True Love.

I reread the account of the woman that Jesus just had to meet (John 4:4). We are so much alike, Sister.

I may have a husband, but that doesn't mean I don't go about my daily tasks with my mind on anything but the Savior. It doesn't mean that sometimes I take care of my kids and console my wearied heart with the empty dreams of what I will do in the next season of my life; the things I will accomplish when my kids are all in school and I am no longer tied to diapers and sippy cups. As though this season is merely a hiatus in an otherwise planned and significant life.

The Samaritan woman and I have been bogged down by the burdens of the day to day, but taken the moments to think about the next big thing.

"I know that Messiah is coming (he who is called Christ). When he comes, he will tell us all things." (John 4:26)

And then comes the part that blows my mind:

Jesus said to her, "I who speak to you am he."

This foreign woman living in sin deeper than any disgusting well received the gospel from the Gospel, her downcast eyes lifted and opened to a reality that her ancestors longed to see. And she got to speak to Him. See Him. Hear Him.

His words are the same for us day-to-day sinners with our nose to the grindstone and our eyes on the tasks at hand. The ones who in the brief pauses of the tiresome day look forward to the next big thing, not realizing just how big this thing is right here. Right now.

And I like to see that God's sense of humor allows Him to reveal Himself in even the most commercial of arenas. The Samsung Galaxy Translation: The next big thing is already here...

I admit, I'm an iPhone user and a proud one at that. But Samsung really hit the nail on the head with that phrase. (I'd have preferred that they not made us iPhone users all look obsolete, but that's for another post.) It's like they tapped into one of the most basic methods Satan uses to lure us away from the grace and beauty around us- his lie that what we are, where we are, is not as good as what and where we should be.

Jesus meets us at the wells of our lives and hands us the dirty laundry, the full dishwasher, the crying baby, all gifts.We are so busy accomplishing and looking forward to what's next that we miss His presence, reminding us that He is the only big thing, and He is here. Already here.

So let's vow together to look at where we are and see Him here. In His Word. His sacraments. In our service to the least of these. I don't think Jesus would have stressed so often the responsibility of caring for children if it wasn't such a big deal. We see big things people do, famous people recognized for their big works even towards furthering the kingdom, and forget that the biggest ways Christ demonstrated His love for the world were done in the small things. Born in a manger. A carpenter's son in a small town. A small band of common men for followers. A criminal's death on a cross. Even his miracles were accomplished for those who were, or believed themselves to be, the least worthy.

And then there is the perk to rereading those old favorites. We know how they end. With a risen and ascended Savior. So if we are to spend our time looking for the next big big thing, let it be living in anticipation of His blessed and joyous return.

Messy Monday: Keeping Score

I've been rocking out a lot since school ended. My seven year old love love LOVES Britt Nicole, which is fine by me because I just can't overestimate my affinity for a good beat. It puts me into some happy, motivated place. And I've needed it recently.

For whatever reason, I have been in a funk lately and just given into it. You know, you just sit there and go, "I know I shouldn't be thinking this, but I don't care. Let me wallow in my baseless whining." So much easier it is to just let myself be jealous or a victim than to intentionally remind myself of who I am because I belong to Christ. (But here's the secret- that's really just a lie. Giving into the "easy" just drains the spirit in the long run, while fighting it and feeding the truth renews our strength like the eagles'.)

So Britt Nicole and the like have been serenading us frequently since my daughter is home from school full time, and as I was cleaning on Saturday she sang a lyric that struck me anew. One of those lyrics that I think, "Oh, I hope my girls learn this truth. Remember this truth," when it's really me that needs to hear it. I guess I haven't outgrown as much as I'd hoped...

Everybody keeps score. Afraid your gonna lose. Just ignore, they don't know the real you.

 

Now to be fair- no one keeps score on me. I keep score on myself. I'm the one who forgets the real me.

 

That's what turns me into my pity-party mess...

 

As soon as the words hit my brain, I realized that's what I've been doing lately. Keeping score- and everyone else is ahead. Better moms, wives, singers, writers, etc. Everyone just seems more worthy.

 

Then a piece popped out of my mental archive. Turns out this must be a recurring theme in my life because I just wrote about it for the church newsletter... So here it is!



It’s Not About the Score

 

There is something amazing about little feet and legs and bodies chasing a ball on a blanket of green. Maybe it is just me, but to watch kids on a soccer field, running with all their might, kicking, passing, scoring, celebrating- my heart just bursts into little pieces when they are exhausted and smiling.

Last year, I remember my son running up to me after every goal their team scored. Jumping, bounding, giving fives. I thought just like our relationship with the Father. It hit me that the pride and joy I felt in both my little soccer players was a gift- a glimpse into God’s regard for His children. His regard for me. The insignificance of my daily chores suddenly became reasons to give God a high five and be reminded that my Coach was right on the field with me, and celebrating my every play!

 

This year started much the same way. The aunts and uncles and grandparents received pictures of their grandkids, niece and nephew, scoring goals and taking names. The grace and beauty of their form and footwork- it was no less than perfect art to me. My heart ached with love as my kids talked nonstop after the games about how they played.

 

Then my son's team lost. Quite handedly. It was one of those games where we wondered if the kids packed their cleats and shin-guards, but not their feet and brains. And you could see it on their faces; they were just as baffled as the rest of us. They were trying. Trying hard. But nothing connected. Like everything we had done the past few weeks was undone in one night.

 One boy was devastated. He probably would have torn his clothes in mourning had he the strength. His brother, on the other hand, did manage to score- and brilliantly-on his own team. But you should have seen his face light up. I just smiled that I-can’t-break-this-kid’s-heart smile and held out my hand. With an “I scored!” he gave me five. I then gently suggested he try scoring in the opposite goal the next time.

 My son wasn’t too rocked by the loss. “We lost 9-1,” he told his Auntie Sarah, and that was about it.

 My son didn’t feel like a loser. He felt Grady Jensen, the soccer player who lost a game. He knew what was really important- that even when he lost, his mother and father still loved and cared for him. It became immediately apparent that the real demonstration of my love was much more significant when he had nothing to “offer” to earn it. His ability to keep things in perspective was an example for me to follow.

 

It is easy to define ourselves by our roles. We rate our job performance on a spectrum from Loser to Winner and determine God’s love accordingly. Then we lose it. Nothing connects. We wonder where we left our mind. Some days I ask God, “How can you love me? I’m such a horrible mom.” I turn myself into a mom who follows God, instead of a child of God who is also a mom. But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ… Ephesians 2:4-5 (boldface mine)

What makes the difference?

 

Relationship. A relationship entirely dependent on a loving Father. A relationship that is not contingent on what we have to offer- which is awesome because, outside of Jesus Christ, there isn’t a human being on earth that has ever made the grade.

 

We all lose, but we are not losers. We are champions in a very literal and eternal sense. All those other vocations we have- those are just gravy. Those are graces upon grace; things we do for the glory of God because we can, not because we have to climb some ladder of success to achieve significance. In fact, it is when we are at our lowest that we are forced to look up, and God’s love reveals itself most faithful …so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God. Ephesians 2: 7-8

Mission Fielding

 

We've arrived. 'Tis the season to join arms with just about every family in our small town and surrounding areas to cheer on our young ones as they compete in what some would consider America's greatest pastime. Softball. Baseball.

 

 

I still hear it from my sister, the softball star. I'd look up from my book just long enough to watch her bat, then down went the nose and I was back to the grindstone.

 

 

My son understands the temptation to self-entertain when the going gets slow in a sibling game.

 

But now I pay attention.That's my daughter out there. I laugh. I cheer.

 

Even when the slow roller inches its way across the infield and the pitcher, shortstop, and third baseman all descend upon it like owls on a mouse. They collide like the actors in those heartfelt family misfit comedies, and we laugh like they're behind a screen and can't hear us.

 

And after a few more of those little mishaps you begin to thank Jesus for the long ride home because otherwise you just might be tempted to turn these collisions into a drinking game.

 

I've been playing closer attention lately, perhaps also because I've been struggling with this whole position-playing life of ours. When do I bat? Or am I already doing that? Or am I on deck? Surely I'm deck for something really great- some really great act of faith for the furthering of God's kingdom. On deck, right? No? In the dugout? Or am I more defensive, fighting the urge to field a mission meant for someone else?

 

See what I mean? It gets tricky.

 

 

Last weekend, I had the most amazing opportunity that I don't take often enough. I had an afternoon to listen to missionaries to Hong Kong, and then participate in the sending of five missionaries, some to Lima and Peru.  There is no where in the world like Mission Central. No. where.

 

With tears for every story, I listened and wondered, "Could I do that?" "Why am I not doing that?"

 

"Lord, could you call my family to do that?"

 

Because there is something so attractive about light shining in the darkness. And you just want to grab a hint of it.

 

After the presentations and sending, Gary introduced me to one of his dear friends (I've never met a man with more)- I was Lauren, "the real missionary."

 

I smiled a blurry smile as Gary's words hit me in the way I knew he intended.

 

My heart had been aching for what it already had.

 

I watch those around me fielding missions God has meant for them, all the while forgetting that the mission I serve is still His mission. Like my daughter, I look longingly at those playing different, "important," positions and wonder why not me, ignoring that He has been training me all along for the position I am in.

 

We don't have to question where we play, when we know for Whom we play.

 

We don't have to anticipate the next great act of faith when the One in whom we place our faith makes every act great.

 

He is the definition of great,

 

We don't have to determine the magnitude of our mission, when the Mission Himself has already acted on behalf of all humankind. It is His mission, we are just witnesses to it, living in gratitude for it.

 

Because as much as I absolutely love being a wife and mother, daughter, sister, friend, it's not really about me anyway. It's about Him. There is peace in that. Joy, love, and hope.

Destiny and Motherhood: Why I Choose to Keep a Messy House

Sometimes I really relate to the donkey the disciples fetched for the Lord Jesus.

Because I become completely untied, and it is not until I ask why that I hear their response: Because the Lord has need of it. (Luke 19:31)

I just absolutely love my coffee mornings. A few friends come over and we drink our beverages and chat about what's happening in our lives and town and world. We solve some problems. Sometimes.

Just yesterday I led those dear friends around the parsonage that may or may not be getting a facelift. I explained the vision, salting my speech with excitement over what could be.

And peppering it with apologies. Not one room of my house is clean. Not one. Passable maybe, but not clean.

Did my friends demand excuses and apologies? Absolutely not. Did they offer judgment and condemnation for the clutter? No way. If they had, would it have depleted the worth of my personal stock? Nope.

But the apologizing- it just gets exhausting. My mind and heart and soul are squished into a sorry little box as if that is all there is by which to measure my worth, and I become enslaved.

Enslaved to a house. I piece of real estate.

I become a victim.

Yesterday I changed that. You know what, I'm not a victim. And for any mothers or fathers out there who are enslaved to the image of being "put together," neither are you.

As for me, I am poor and needy, but the Lord takes thought for me. You are my help and my deliverer; do not delay, O my God! Psalm 40:17

The Lord of the universe thinks and takes action to benefit us poor, needy souls. We are victors!

 

But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. 1 Cor 15:57

 

You know what else? This unshowered, sweatpant wearing, tired mom has a destiny. Really- even me. And if I have a destiny, you can bet every single person out there has one too.

 

No doubt the cleanliness of my house may play a role in the fulfillment of God's destiny for me, but as a means- not an end. I will choose to see it that way. I will look to the end goal.

 

So if you happen to stumble into my house mind your step, and know that instead of devoting my blood, sweat and tears to wiping up every muddy shoeprint, fishing out every bobby pin from the carpet, and putting every doll in its age appropriate bin (assuming I could find said bin), I have chosen instead to tend to the following responsibilities:

 

* Kissing scraped knees

* Making waffles

* Sorting clothes along with the kids

* Reading

* Running in the sunshine

* Playing soccer with the kids

* Going to the park

* Thawing meat for supper

* Changing diapers

* Tying shoes

* Brushing hair

* Wiping tears

* Brushing teeth

* Coloring

* Wrestling on the floor

* Dating my husband

* Dating my children

* Doing puzzles

* Writing

* Teaching

* Visiting

* Volunteering

* Praying, praying, praying

* Encouraging

* Loving

* Laughing

* Spending time, not wasting it.

 

* Various and Sundry other tasks that demand an inordinate amount of time and energy, and are supremely more important.

 

Because, as a good friend assured me: One day the kids will be gone, the house will be clean and quiet, and you'll miss the mess.

 

Happy Early Mother's Day.

 

Luke 10: ³⁸ Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. ³⁹ And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to his teaching. ⁴⁰ But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” ⁴¹ But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, ⁴² but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.”

“Tense Time(s)”

Hello Blogosphere! As way of a brief introduction I am not Lauren... I'm the other contributor to this delightful blog. My name is Jennette & I'm currently completing my last 9 weeks of graduate school. I'm engaged to a wonderful man of God & am continually reminded of what a blessing Brian is in my life! To sum me up in a short amount of words - I'm an 85 year old stuck in a young person's body. My "old soul" can be seen in my love of organ playing, conversing with people of all ages, baking bread (& sharing it), knitting or sewing when I find the time to do so, etc. But those activities don't really matter. The thing I want you to remember is that I love Jesus & I pray that His love is shown to you through His power working in me.


Do you ever sit and ponder about time? How much time it takes you to run errands? What about how much time it takes to learn to master a new passion or hobby? Or how long it takes to complete homework or a big work project? Frankly, I don’t have much time to just sit and think about time. I usually find myself having inner thoughts and ponderings about topics I’d love to further study and learn to digest at a higher knowledge than what I currently have. And recently my thoughts have been driving me to hash out the topic of time in correlation to a few passages of God’s Word.

As humans, we are bound by time. In one week, there are 168 hours for us to fill. 24 hours to one single day. Do you necessarily fill all 24 hours in a day exactly how you imagine it to go at the beginning of the day? I know I don’t. Wish I did. But many factors enter into the changes—whether planned or unplanned—that affect how a person’s schedule plays out day to day.

I’m coming off a two week Spring break that was SO glorious to enjoy. Seemed like I had all the free time in the world. Because, for two short weeks, every day was a Saturday. Beautiful thought, right? Well, kind of. While I enjoyed the enormous amounts of “free time” I had, towards the end of break, I did begin to long for structure to my day. To help guide me in knowing how to spend the time God has given me to balance my vocations as fiancée, daughter, student, friend, and living out my life as a baptized, redeemed child of God.

I’m thankful that God is not bound by time. He is Alpha AND Omega. He is first and last. He is constantly present in my life in many and various ways. And the same is true for you. For everyone. God is present and knows the inner most trials and joys we each experience in our lives. God is forever. He is eternal. How do we know this? God’s Word tells us all of these (and many others) aforementioned truths about him. I’m especially comforted by these words from Hebrews 13:8, "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever."

Along with the beauty of knowing that God is forever, never changes, and is always there, we learn from the prophet Isaiah (40: 6b-8), “All flesh is grass, and all its beauty is like the flower of the field. The grass withers, the flower fades when the breath of the LORD blows on it; surely the people are grass. The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever.” Nothing else matters. Yep, that’s easier said than understood, but it is true. God’s Word survives amidst all the changes we deal with in this life. Just as God is beyond time, so also His Word is timeless.

And so we press on during this Lenten journey. We press on in living out our vocations. In spending time preparing for & living out our responsibilities which God has given to us. Being present as moms and dads in our children’s lives. Working. Studying. Forgiving. Loving. We press closer and closer to hearing and learning more about the journey to the cross our Savior took in order to save all (who believe in Him) from sin, death, and the power of the devil.

I’ll close with the beginning words of Psalm 78. Praise God for giving us His Word. May we never tire of inwardly digesting and sharing His living and active Word with those we meet in this world.
 

"O my people, hear my teaching;
listen to the words of my mouth.
I will open my mouth in parables,
I will utter hidden things, things from of old—
what we have heard and known,
what our fathers have told us.
We will not hide them from their children;
we will tell the next generation
the praiseworthy deeds of the LORD,
his power, and the wonders he has done."
[Psalm 78: 1-4]