A matter of perspective

Acts 24:24-25 (NIV)

Several days later Felix came with his wife Drusilla, who was Jewish. He sent for Paul and listened to him as he spoke about faith in Christ Jesus. As Paul talked about righteousness, self-control and the judgment to come, Felix was afraid and said, “That’s enough for now! You may leave. When I find it convenient, I will send for you.”

Righteousness and self control are elements of my life I try work on regularly… but I don’t exactly warm to other people lecturing me about either. How tempting it is to only address my shortcomings when it’s convenient and otherwise try to dismiss them quietly. And how about the “That’s enough for now! You may leave” attitude? How many times have my kids expressed that exact sentiment while I’m trying to teach them right from wrong?

Many parents who believe in God have at least once suggested the love they have for their child helped them appreciate the love God must have for creation. That’s the warm and fuzzy side. Then there’s the alternative — the realization that when my children spurn me they’re letting me know exactly how I treated my own parents, and also how I treat God. That’s neither warm nor fuzzy.

I think often about the command to love my neighbors as myself, and sometimes it’s actually easier to follow that one than the command to love God with all my heart, mind, body and strength. It should be easy to return that unconditional love, but it just isn’t. I’m weak and imperfect and I make mistakes. What I need to do is try and have patience for the world the way God has patience for me. If only living it out were as easy as writing it down.

A prayer for August 23:

Lord, teach me your way. Lead me in a straight path. Grant me patience — both for my own shortcomings and in my interactions with others. Remind me to slow down and experience life before jumping to conclusions, speaking without thinking and acting without concern for what damage I might be doing. Reveal to me and through me a better way to live and love. Amen.

Always an example

Acts 20:32-35 (NIV)

“Now I commit you to God and to the word of his grace, which can build you up and give you an inheritance among all those who are sanctified. I have not coveted anyone’s silver or gold or clothing. You yourselves know that these hands of mine have supplied my own needs and the needs of my companions. In everything I did, I showed you that by this kind of hard work we must help the weak, remembering the words the Lord Jesus himself said: ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’ ”

Anyone who lives with children, especially young children, is abundantly aware of exactly how much they soak in from the world around them. Of late I’ve been trying best to be cognizant of the way my children learn by watching. The fact our two-year-old likes to repeat just about everything anyone says is as good a reminder as any. But it goes beyond language.

With the kids in tow, I simply try harder to be a better person. I am more likely to be gracious to people we encounter in the grocery store, to hold open a door for a stranger or to make a point of saying please and thank you audibly and directly. That’s not to say I’m a bad guy when I’m out alone — the other night I returned a Target shopping cart to the store from all the way over by Michaels, which in this case meant traversing the entire exterior of Home Depot and the La-Z-Boy store — just that when I have the kids I am hyper aware of the chances my every little word or action could soon be displayed in the ones I’m trying to raise the right way.

While regularly on the lookout for teaching moments, I am aided by a five-year-old who questions everything he sees. Why are we standing here? Why did you let that guy go in front of us? Why did you ask that lady if she dropped her dollar? Sometimes the questions aren’t useful for teaching, or even answerable. (My all-time favorite, from when our oldest was maybe four, is “What would happen if everyone got the same mail?”) But when I do have a chance to work in a word or two about being good to other people, I try to make the most of the opportunity.

This is not revolutionary. Frankly, it’s not all that hard, and I’m ashamed to think of all the times I could have done a better job in this arena in my near 10 years as a dad. And to take a deeper look at what Paul says, it’s about a lot more than just being a good neighbor. What he’s discussing is a day-in, day-out commitment to making sure everything he does shows a desire to help those less fortunate, to give as much as possible for the betterment of all, done in God’s name.

That kind of track record is a far cry from what I’m giving the planet and its people. There are dozens of ways I could be making more significant contributions, too many to count. So what I try to do is look at each day as a chance to make gains, to give more, to better live out Jesus’ commands. And, along the way, to teach my kids to do the same. The end goal is making choices each day that reflect Paul’s example here to the point where it isn’t really a choice at all — it’s just the way life is lived because that’s what God calls for. It’s a tall order, but I’m grateful for being asked to comply.

A prayer for August 12:

Lord, I am thankful as always for the gift of fatherhood. I am awed at the trust you have placed in me to be a good father and encouraged by the support and strength you offer. Please help me in my quest to fulfill my responsibilities. Show me the ways I might best set a good example and be ever present as I weigh the choices that may shape my children’s lives. Help them understand your role in our family, and may I be a source for them to experience to power of your love. Amen.

'Keep on speaking'

Acts 18:9-11 (NIV)

One night the Lord spoke to Paul in a vision: “Do not be afraid; keep on speaking, do not be silent. For I am with you, and no one is going to attack and harm you, because I have many people in this city.” So Paul stayed in Corinth for a year and a half, teaching them the word of God.

My post Tuesday about the 17-year-old who wrote into Ask Amy wondering why everyone is giving her such a hard time for wanting surgery to keep her from becoming a mother generated quite a bit of conversation between Facebook and Google Plus (as a G+ novice, I had to be directed to the latter). The newspaper column I filed today consists almost exclusively to feedback from last week’s piece. One of my favorite things about writing is generating and engaging in discussions about my chosen topic, and it’s a neat coincidence that two pieces on the same day about completely different issues yielded essentially a week’s worth of conversation.

What I really appreciate is being challenged on my positions by thoughtful folks who clearly understand my writing and wish to push me deeper. As I wrote to one friend on Facebook, “I very much appreciate this dialogue. You all are making me think a good deal about my writing, and I have to keep re-reading the post to see if I said what I thought I did, or if my words conveyed my actual feelings.” And yes, the rereading also alerts me to the typos I didn’t catch the first time around.

As such, the words God speaks to Paul are encouraging to me as well: “Do not be afraid; keep on speaking, do not be silent. …” They inspire me not only to keep writing — here and my paid gigs — but also to actively work to encourage dialogue in any possible medium. While I’m not wavering on my principles of faith, my matters of opinion on the way the world works are certainly open for discussion. I love being forced to truly think about and defend my position because it helps make sure I fully understand what I’m saying and why. When good friends and family members are willing to help me along the path of discovery, I feel like we all benefit — even if none of us ever actually budge from our starting viewpoints.

Ultimately I lack Paul’s courage to speak boldly in every arena regardless of potential for harm. I couch my words, position my stances so as to appear respectfully dissonant rather than outright offensive and have been known to back down from something truly controversial in the name of fostering unity. I worry at these times God is judging me for my reluctance to be bold, but it’s counterbalanced with a worry that my choice of when to be bold would counteract with God’s wishes. And then I worry the latter worry is just a way to make me feel better about the former. There’s a lot going on inside my head.

So thanks to the readers and the responders. Thanks for engaging me, for questioning and challenging and especially for making my work a two-way street. It’s personally validating, which isn’t the primary purpose, but it certainly keeps things interesting and helps with the motivation. And some days, I need all the help I can get.

A prayer for August 5:

Lord, speak to me. Speak through me. May the words I write and say be not only pleasing to your ear, but help me form them — teach me what to say to whom, and when and how to have the most impact. Open my mind to the thoughts of others and let my words be a launching pad for conversation that inspires all who participate to think deeply and grow in the process. Amen.

The yoke's on me

Acts 15:1-11 (NIV)

Certain people came down from Judea to Antioch and were teaching the believers: “Unless you are circumcised, according to the custom taught by Moses, you cannot be saved.” This brought Paul and Barnabas into sharp dispute and debate with them. So Paul and Barnabas were appointed, along with some other believers, to go up to Jerusalem to see the apostles and elders about this question. The church sent them on their way, and as they traveled through Phoenicia and Samaria, they told how the Gentiles had been converted. This news made all the believers very glad. When they came to Jerusalem, they were welcomed by the church and the apostles and elders, to whom they reported everything God had done through them.

Then some of the believers who belonged to the party of the Pharisees stood up and said, “The Gentiles must be circumcised and required to keep the law of Moses.”

The apostles and elders met to consider this question. After much discussion, Peter got up and addressed them: “Brothers, you know that some time ago God made a choice among you that the Gentiles might hear from my lips the message of the gospel and believe. God, who knows the heart, showed that he accepted them by giving the Holy Spirit to them, just as he did to us. He did not discriminate between us and them, for he purified their hearts by faith. Now then, why do you try to test God by putting on the necks of Gentiles a yoke that neither we nor our ancestors have been able to bear? No! We believe it is through the grace of our Lord Jesus that we are saved, just as they are.”

“Now then, why do you try to test God?” This is a question that probably ought to be asked more often in modern society. I suspect the majority of the times it is asked are outside direct conversations between two parties of opposing views. Out loud, it probably is uttered most frequently as a rhetorical, and with a “they” instead of “you.” When asked directly, it probably comes through the media of social networking or Internet comment forums.

I have a very easy time thinking, writing and believing salvation comes through grace alone. I hope I am teaching this to my children, and I know our church presents this via Christian education. But reading what Paul says in regards to a yoke is rather convicting. While I’m not, as are the Pharisees here, directly addressing nonbelievers and putting conditions on what such people must do in order to be “true” Christians, I am certainly not above silently pondering what makes someone a “good” Christian, though I know full well there’s only one being empowered and able to make such a ruling.

Again, I’m not a Pharisee, so it’s not a matter of circumcision and keeping the law of Moses, but I have to ask myself: what are the yokes I might be putting on other people? How can I try to hold anyone to any sort of standard knowing I can’t bear the weight of my own expectations? God knows the heart, does not discriminate and accepts everyone who chooses that path. And yet here I am, placing all sorts of conditions on people and my relationships. Sure, I don’t know the heart like God does, but it never has been as easy as it should be to remember everyone I encounter is a creation of the same God I worship.

I hope I am not passing on this tendency to my kids. I hope they will always be much better than I am at seeing other people as just that — regular, normal people who deserve unconditional respect. I hope in trying to teach my children to see the world this way that I start to see it more the same way myself. I claim to dislike injustice, to be upset when things aren’t fair. If I’m going to do that, I need to make sure I’m not part of the problem.

A prayer for July 25:

Lord, purify my heart. Take my sins, my prejudice, my irrational assumptions, my disrespect, take it all away from me and let me start over. Remake me in your image. Give me the strength I need to walk the path you set before me and the courage to hold firm to my convictions. And please help me teach my children so they might be able to succeed where I have failed. Amen.

The business trip begins

Acts 21:1-8 (NIV)

After we had torn ourselves away from them, we put out to sea and sailed straight to Kos. The next day we went to Rhodes and from there to Patara. We found a ship crossing over to Phoenicia, went on board and set sail. After sighting Cyprus and passing to the south of it, we sailed on to Syria. We landed at Tyre, where our ship was to unload its cargo.After sighting Cyprus and passing to the south of it, we sailed on to Syria. We landed at Tyre, where our ship was to unload its cargo. We sought out the disciples there and stayed with them seven days. Through the Spirit they urged Paul not to go on to Jerusalem. When it was time to leave, we left and continued on our way. All of them, including wives and children, accompanied us out of the city, and there on the beach we knelt to pray. After saying goodbye to each other, we went aboard the ship, and they returned home.

We continued our voyage from Tyre and landed at Ptolemais, where we greeted the brothers and sisters and stayed with them for a day. Leaving the next day, we reached Caesarea and stayed at the house of Philip the evangelist, one of the Seven.

I’m writing this post from an airplane, high above whatever part of America you’re high above about 90 minutes into a flight from Chicago to Portland. Kristie and the boys are home in Illinois. My dad and I will be gone for about three days for a two-day trade show. The extra is owed to the peculiar challenges of trying to fly from west to east on a weekday afternoon. Still, I think we have an easier travel schedule than Paul and his road buddies as detailed in the passage from today’s lectionary.

But what our schedule means, from a practical family standpoint, is Kristie has three nights during which she will have to bathe and tuck in all three boys and three mornings during which she’ll have to drive Jack to his summer program at school. That’s been my job the last several weeks and nearly every day we’ve gotten out of the house before anyone else wakes up. If we do see one of the other three, it’s almost always Max, and once you feed him he’s pretty self sufficient.

So bedtime probably will be rough, followed by morning starting earlier than Kristie would prefer (including the very real possibility of waking a sleeping baby, which we otherwise avoid at nearly all costs). Then, of course, the next night’s bedtime probably will be rough owing to the communal lack of sleep. Lather, rinse and repeat until Wednesday. Provided our return flight is on time (as our departing flight was decidedly not…) I’ll get home right about when Kristie needs to leave for a presentation in support of her cloth diaper business. I, of course, will be fresh as a daisy owing to a full day of travel, and the children will be on their best behavior simply out of glee at being reunited with their loving father. Or something like that.

The good news is I don’t travel all that often. I had a Saturday to Tuesday trip to San Diego in April. Before that I think my last trip was this time last year. And while two or three overnight trips a year is a dramatic increase compared to my years in full-time newspaper work, it remains a strain. Anytime you upset the balance of normal — especially with young children — you do so with a deep breath and a hope the disruptive effects will be minimal. Even the positive alterations, such as the recent visit from Kristie’s mom, disrupt the routine. We’re not nearly as regimented as a good deal of parents (especially parents with only one very young child), but we are intimately acquainted with the benefits of a reliable schedule for the children.

Most adults, whether aware of the reality or not, operate better under the framework of a routine. Certainly there’s something to be said for flexibility, adaptability and plain ol’ rolling with the punches. But consider — if you’re a working sort with a regular job who eats lunch about the same time every weekday, how does Saturday go if you don’t get to that midday meal around the same time as you would on a Tuesday or Friday?

One thing I’ve noticed about parenting, and specifically being responsible for very young children, is how easy it is for adults to ignore in their own life the kind of things they would never overlook with children. I can tell straight away if one of my children got enough sleep the night before. When I get home form work at 5:30 and the kids haven’t eat dinner yet, I have a pretty good guess what kind of evening lies in store. Yet how many times do I find myself staying up past midnight to finish watching a TV show or putting off lunch because I really ought to mow the lawn first. I have more capacity to handle unpredictability than the kids, but why do I so willingly overlook my own basic needs when I would never allow the children to do the same?

In some sort of twisted logic, I tell myself I’m doing it for the kids. Staying up late to watch TV is one thing, but if I’m folding laundry so everyone has clean clothes for the next day? Well, that’s part of my job as dad. What I really owe them is the best version of me — the one that’s well rested (and well fed!), content with life choices and in the right frame of mind to be the type of parent they deserve. This may be the world’s strongest example of easier said than done, but I do think I would be doing the entire family a favor if I really looked at my job as parent as my complete identity. So by extension, all of my choices could be viewed through that lens.

I might think of my exercise schedule as something that affects only me. But if I step back, I can see how it is just a component of the bigger picture. If I eat foods that make me feel less than my best, and that manifests itself in inattentive parenting or a short temper or what have you, well, what’s the point? Some parents claim they’re too busy dealing with the kids to make their own doctor or dentist appointments. But what good is a parent with a nagging injury or cruising down the road toward obesity or diabetes?

There are times to make sacrifices for kids, and there are times to put an adult’s needs first because the alternative will undercut the best interests of the entire family. I often wish I had a handy guide to always help me tell the difference, but nothing’s that easy. One option? Call my mom. After all, Kristie always seems to know what’s best for our kids. I bet my mom has an idea what might be best for me. And even if she doesn’t, I bet she’d be honored to be asked.

The other option — and one my mother also would endorse? Take it to the Lord in prayer.

A prayer for July 15:

Lord, I thank you for safe travels. During my absence, I pray you help Kristie find the strength, patience and endurance required to be a short-term solo parent. When I return, please help me be ever aware of the needs of my children, and also to be attentive to what my own body, mind and spirit need to be fully functioning, that I may offer my best self to my family and also present my utmost to you, the giver of all good things. Amen.