Does being loved mean being made much of?

I'm reading a book by John Piper called Don't Waste Your Life. The point of the book is to let people know:

"The wasted life is the life without a passion for the supremacy of God in all things for the joy of all peoples."

I came to Christ in an abandoned army camp in the Swiss Alps. I prayed the prayer of salvation on a balcany overlooking a prodigious peak so tall I couldn't see the tops for the clouds. I had the privilge of going back to that very spot my feshman year of college. My then boyfriend (now husband) took a photo of the peat from that exact place. That photo is a precious thing to me.

Today I read this aresting passage from Don't Waste Your Life:

"We waste our life when we do not pray and think and dream and plan toward magnifying God in all spheres of life. God created us for this: to live our lives in a way that makes him look more like the greatness and the beauty...that he really is. ... For many people, this is not obviously an act of love. They do not fee loved when they are told that God created them for his glory. They feel used. This is understandable given the way love has been almost completely distorted in our world. For most poeple, to be loved is to be made much of. Almost everything in our Western culture serves this distorition of love. We are taught in a thousand ways that love means increasing someone's self-esteem. Love is helping someone feel good about themselves. Love is giving someone a mirror and helping them like what he sees.

"That is not what the Bible means by the love of God. Love is doing what is best for someone. But making self the object of our highest affections is not best for us. It is, in fact, a lethal distraction. We were made to see and savor God...to be supremely satisfied, and thus spread in all the world the worth of his presence. Not to show people the all-satisfying God is not to love them. To make them feel good about themselves when they were made to feel good about seeing God is like taking someone to the alps and locking them in a room full of mirrors."

Having seen the Alps, this was particularly affecting. Seeing the mountians and seeing God happend almost simultaneously for me. Now that I've experienced both, I can't imagine the people I was with in Switzerland withholding either from me. Most of us who have experience the Alps would definitely encourage others hadn't to get out of the bathroom and onto the balcony. But Christians - are we that excited to encourage them to turn from finding satisfaction in self to finding it in God?

We should be.

Maintenance Tips

I decided last year that I was going to try really hard to 'maintain' my home constantly instead of 'cleaning' it occasionally - meaning minimize the frequency of large scale scrubbings by legnthing the time between them with faithful maintenance. The goal was to have a clean home all the time and free up more time that is usually absorbed by intense cleaning. Here are some helpful practices I've gathered since then:

1. Keep a washcloth on hand in the bathroom to wipe down the counter after any use that may have messed the counter. It's easier to wipe up water droplets, shaving cream, or toothpaste before it's dried. This keeps the counter presentable and you can go longer between real cleanings.
2. When finishing a shower, use the showerhead to rinse off all the walls and the curtain - never let soap or shaving cream stay after you've left the shower. Rinsing them away immediately saves having to chip them off later. Then spray all these surfaces with a mold and soap scum retardant ('no-work' shower cleaners). Again, if need be, you can go longer between real cleanings.
3. Make it a rule to get the kitchen under control before you go to sleep every night. Get the dishes at least to the sink (if not the dishwasher) and wipe down all the kitchen counters with a wet rag after every time you cook. Exposing the counters may reveal spills and messes you weren't aware of - and again, everything's easier to clean before it dries. Oh - and make sweeping part of your routine. You wouldn't believe what falls onto the ground while you cook.
4. Do laundry continually. Depending on the size of your family, it may mean every day. For just my husband and I it means twice a week. This ensures you always have clothes and the laundry doesn't suddenly grow so big it takes a day to complete.
5. Put things away. It sounds so simple, but it's probably the biggest help to maintaining a home. Everything we own has a place. For sake of convenience, we've created new places for some things. For example, we read alot. Books find there way into every space and can leave a room looking cluttered. Since it wouldn't make sense to but a book we're in the middle of back on the shelf, we've designated book bases around the house. If we're reading and are interrupted, instead of throwing the book down on the couch next to us, it goes into a book base. When I clean up, Stephan knows he can go to a book base to find any books he left in his chair. We have similar disignate spots for our lunch bags when we return home from work, our shoes, coats, and bags/purses. It's easier not to go through the hassle of putting these away in a closet because they're used so often, but having a chair, hook or corner they can be placed in is helpful and keeps clutter down. When it comes to less used items (like dirty clothes or board games) there are no excuses - they go to their home.
6. Use coasters. They save you the unsightly appearance of condensation rings and burns on the table.
7. When you cook and don't have time to actually finish the dishes before you go to sleep, fill any pots or pans that have things like tomatoe sauce or creams in them - that way the food won't dry on the pans overnight. When you return to them all you'll have to do is pour the water out and all the food will go with it. It saves tons of time when you finally get around to cleaning those dishes.
8. Here's a fun one: clean the shower in the shower. I find it only adds about 7-10 minutes to my normal shower time. If you're concerned about saving water, this may not be the best idea for you. I'd also disreccomend this if you use traditional bathroom cleaners. My cleaners are non-chemical, so I can stand in an enclosed space with their fumes and it's not harmful.
9. My husband wears contacts and we have an electric toothbrush. These two things seem to create the most water/residue rings on the bathroom countertops. We've stuck a washcloth under each of these items, and every week we change the cloth. If there's something like a bottle of face wash or a wet toothbrush that leaves puddles on your counter, consider putting a cloth under them.
10. Use baskets/buckets. You can put them anywhere, get the to match any decoration scheme, and you can throw anything into them and it will all look ok. Oh- and some have lids. A definite plus.

Here's the biggest tip though: your house is a house - a living space - not a museum. Don't strive for perfection, just tidey convenience.

What God can do over a rainy weekend...

A friend of mine and I went away for part of the weekend to seek God. We took all of Saturday and devoted it to fasting, scripture reading, praying, and bible study through other books. We made general plans for the things we were going to focus on, but I decided I was going to start and end with the Gospel.

Well, I didn't get past the gosple all day. All the books I brought sat unused as I dwelt in Romans. I was a forgiven sinner. I couldn't get beyond that.

When we came home we were blessed by a play based on the book of Acts, performed by the youth of our church. They did a spectacular job! But what I was most struck by was how bodly the men of Acts preached the gospel. I couldn't help but cheer when Peter shared the gospel on Pentecost, or when Stephan did the same with his dying breath as he was stoned, or when Saul was saved and couldn't be silenced. I left the play with an awareness that Acts is my history - I'm a member of Christ's church, and Acts is the story of the establisment of Christ's church. I'm just in a latter chapter of that same story - the story of what Jesus continued to do by his spirit through his following after he'd ascended into heaven. Wow.

I had alot of goals for my weekend, but God only had one: to turn me into a more passionate child of his. What better agenda could I have had?

How was your Easter?

"I had my first fall! It was awesome!!"

...

Yes, numerous people who've asked me that question and recieved that answer have raised an eyebrow too.

My husband actually had Easter Sunday off work, so we decided not to waste a second of time together: we suited up, got the bikes out and went for a ride.

Now, when I say 'ride' I don't mean on bikes with flat pedals and broad wheels. This riding was the kind Lance Armstrong does - actual cycling. My husband had been doing it for about 10 years. Me? I'm just trying to keep up with someone as cool as him.

I'm an amateur. I rode a little about a year ago when I first got my bike. Then Stephan got busy with work and school and He couldn't go out with me anymore. I didn't learn much timidly making my way to CVS compared to the back-country roads he would take me on.

But Sunday found us back on those roads. It was spectacular. The whole reason I got the bike in the first place was to go fast. I wanted the wind blowing past my ears and muting everything else. Well, I got that Sunday. It was positively glorious.

Not to far into the ride I rolled over some gravel. As I heard it crunch under my wheel I thought "This is it. I'm going down today..."

When cylcing, you're in special shoes that actually attach to the pedals. It's completely neccesary, but hard to get used to. Keep that in mind as this story wanes on.

As we rode further, Stephan started giving me a lesson on how to use my gears. Well, I did something that resulted in a combination that basically made my pedals have no effect on my wheels at all. I'd spin but nothing would happen. I was rolling down a hill, so I wasn't worried about falling over, but I called out to Stephan so he could coach me back to wheels that worked.

Well, we came over a small hill at that point and he stopped. Up ahead of us there was another small hill. We couldn't see the traffic coming from either direction.

I told him to keep going - he insisted on stopping. This little lack of communication resulted in me slowing down too much to stay upright. Having not unclipped my feet (which is really easy to do if you're thinking about it) I tipped over before I could get my foot out.

I don't remember the actual fall - all I remember is thinking "car..."

I fell to my left side right into the center of the road. Both my feet had unclipped in the fall (funny how that is...) so I planted my right foot on the center bar of my bike and shoved it off of me to the shoulder (not thinking of the damage I might do to the thing). I rolled to the shoulder myself once I was free.

Stephan was with me immediately. I started trembling - not because I was badly hurt, but because I looked right and left and saw that, because of the hills, no car would have been able to stop in time to miss me if one had come.

God was kind though, and the next car that came was driven by a very nice man who offered us some wet wipes. I was able to clean my only wound - a skinned knee. In a few minutes another pair of cyclists came by and gave me a dry paper towel as well. After being convinced of my allright-ness, one of this pair said "yeah, you're fine to ride out - you'll get smacked with it tomorrow!"

He was right. Every joint on my left side is sore. The road burn on my knee is shallow, but broad - to broad for a bandage. I'll be wearing skirts for the next week.

Gospel Week!

My church has started doing this thing twice a year called the Prayer Room. A common room is converted into a quiet place for prayer, open almost 24 hours a day for a week. There are some guides in the room to help the church pray uniformedly. The first time the room was set up the pastors led the congregation through general topics. The second time we prayed through selected Psalms. This time we're praying through the events of Passion Week.

I think I drove about 80 mph to get there. This was going to be the best prayer room yet. I couldn't wait to get there. Why was I so excited? Well, Passion Week is nothing less than the narrative of the Gospel.

For those who don't know what Passion Week is, it's the week before Easter, encapsulating Palm Sunday, Good Friday, and Easter. Palm Sunday is the day Jesus arrived in Jerusalem and the crowds hailed him as their coming king, waving palm branches and crying out his praise. Good Friday is the day Christ was crucified (by that same crowd). And Easter is the day he rose from the dead.

When we use the word "passion" these days we think of romance. But originally the word meant an 'extreme suffering'. His last week was indeed a week of suffering - but it ended in the most exciting, peace-giving news in all of history.

Picture this: you've been following Jesus ministry for years, and suddenly he starts talking about how he's going to Jerusalem to be betrayed, subjected to a corrupt trial, tortured and executed - but that he'd then rise from the dead. You'd probably brush it off. "No way, Jesus, not you." But then it really happens. You observe the whole thing publically. You watch Jesus being beaten, flogged, mocked and spit on, forced to carry his own cross out of the city and up a hill, be nailed to it and left to hang there for hours, and finally die. And when he does, the sky turns black and the earth shakes. Eventually Jesus is burried in a cave tomb, and because those who killed him are so afraid his disciples will come rob the body and spread a story that he'd risen from the dead, they set a huge boulder in front of the entrace, seal it with wax, and post armed guards before it. Imagine then that days pass, and you're a woman going to the tomb to treat his body with purfumes, and when you arrived, you're greeted with an empty tomb, and two white clad figures who says this:

"Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men and be crucified and on the third day rise." --Luke 24:5b-7

Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. I cried as I read these words in the prayer room. He has risen. His ressurection proved something: it proved that his death had been sufficient to pay the penalty for my sin, and that I had been ransomed.

Passion Week? Yes, it was a week when Christ suffered. But the suffering wasn't the main point of the week. It was neccesary, and we shouldn't forget it, but it shouldn't be the thing that arrests our attention. The thing that should arrest our attention should be the reason for that suffering - God was reconciling a fallen world to himself in Christ's death. Let's not dare to forget that. This is Gospel Week, folks. This story doesn't leave you feeling extremely blah after a long session of carnal brutality - it ends with a means by which sinners can approach a holy God. This week isn't about Easter dresses and an obligatory church service - it's about The Gospel. Remember what Christ had to endure as this week passes, but unlike everyone standing at the foot of the cross that day, we know how the story ends. Keep that in mind this week. Use this week to let God amaze you at his love for you. Ask him to grow you in appreciation of the ends he went to to secure your place in his presence. This was no small thing. Grab hold of this week and don't let go until you're amazed by grace.

My Hero

So who's your hero? Mine's a guy named Phinehas.

If any of you have ever read through the book of Numbers, you know that it isn't exactly like reading Romans. Revelations from God are not quite jumping up and hitting you between the eyes. You aren't really scribbling page after page in your journal. As all books of scripture are, Numbers is indespensable - but it's not the first book most of us go to when we sit down to have our quiet time.

But I've been in numbers for the past few days, meditating on one passage - Numbers 25:10 & 11.

I read through the old testament last year. It was a wonderful experience to understand the flow of my faith's history. But needless to say, a book consisting primarily of numbers wouldn't be the first book suggested in which to find the passage that affected me most during that reading. But Numbers was it.

"The Lord said to Moses, "Phinehas son of Elaezar, the son of Aaron, the priest, has turned my anger away from the Israelites; for he was as zealous as I am for my honor among them..." (emphasis mine)

--Numbers 25:10 & 11

I've never been able to get that phrase out of my mind since I read the passage. I think of it at least once a day. What's made such an impression? This guy was zealous for God's glory. I can hardly say that of myself. I can hardly say that my motivation is to see God's name lifted high above all things. I can hardly say I'm zealous for God's honor.

My sin is always on hand, and I wield it freely. It taints everything I do. I don't think I've ever had a truely pure motivation in my life. I'm a sinner. I'm zealous for my glory, not Gods.

But Phinehas was zealous for God's glory. God's. It's so amazing to me because it's so foriegn to me. But Pinehas wasn't just zealous for God's glory, he was just as zealous for it as God himself was! How did he do that?

I wish I knew. I've been struggling with a recurring sin for the past 24 hours now. I laid in bed last night thinking of Phinehas. "I want to be zealous for God's glory..." I thought to myself. "I want to be like Phinehas...what would being zealous for God's glory look like right now?" I fell asleep before I could figure it out.

I tried again this morning "I want to be zealous!" I thought. "I really do! What does that look like right now, God? Can I bring myself to do it? Can I slay my sin and be motivated by zeal for your honor?" I couldn't. I never can.

It's almost noon now and I'm still trying to ralley my 'zeal' for God's glory. I don't seem to have any.

This would be the perfect time to despair if I didn't have the hope of the Gospel. Any lack of zeal on my part has already been made up for by zeal on Christ's part. He wanted to see his father's name glorified so much that he was obedient to death, even death on the Cross. I'm trying especially hard to remember his sacrifice on my behalf as I sit here writing on Monday of Passion Week.

Wow, look at all those "I"s. Out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks right? Looks like I'm struggling with a touch of self-sufficiency. Perhaps I'll just sit quietly for a while and ask God to enable zeal for his glory instead of trying to ralley it myself.

"The Moonstone"

We have a book reccomendation today: Wilkie Collins' The Moonstone.

Collins is credited with being the father of the British detective novel (one of my all time favorite genres). This mystery has a little bit of everything: suspence, intrigue, drama, murder, romance. It's masterfully written and reaches its tendrils into nearly every aspect of the human experience. No character is left undeveloped. No subplot is left without being chased down to it's end. It was absolutely brilliant. On top of all this, it was very discreetly and modestly written on the topics of romance, murder and theivery.

The Moonstone is an ancient Indian diamond - a yellow diamond - that is stolen quite violently from its setting in the forhead of an Indian idol by an English military man. It's fabeled to be cursed, and the man who stole it bequeaths it to his niece as a birthday gift as a way to get revenge on his sister. Within 12 hours it is lost, taken mysteriously from the niece's room. The niece throws up road block after road block before the police and loved ones trying to recover her jewel. Why would the victim be so reticent to aid them in finding her birthday gift? What is she hiding?

Highly worth reading - but pick a season when you have plenty of time. It's impossible to put down.

Funny Doctor Stories

I work at a medical school. If any of you have ever worked with scientists, you know that they can be a quirky bunch. I have the privilige of working with not one but 10 such personalities. They're an endearing bunch though, and I've worked with them for 2 years. They're like family. It's terrible when they have to reach agreement on something, but it's great for a laugh.

Whenever my husband needs cheering up, I just tell him about my day at work. I should write a comedic novel about these guys. They provide plenty of material.

They're geniuses, all of them - but they're so smart they can't tie their own shoelaces.

They're a grateful bunch. I came in one morning to see our course director standing frustrated over the copier in the hall. "'Morning," I said, and hit the power button as I walked by. The machine lit up and happily made his copies (that trick helped me make the jump from "office mascot" to "indespensable superhero"). He was elated and told me so. Fix a stapler, or show them how to use their speaker phone, or explain the "undo" command in Microsoft Word and you've got better job security than an officer in the military.

But as I said, they're geniuses. Beyond that, they're incredibly clever geniuses. Today the course director came into my office and declared he was an idiot ("Just to get it out of the way," he explained). He was having trouble with an online account and wanted me to see if I could fix it. I ended up having to call tech support. A man with a very deep voice picked up and I put him on speaker so the course director could hear too. We worked through teh problem and hung up.

"Wow," the course director said. "I wish I had a voice like that guy's." I smiled. "Didn't he sound good?"

Keep in mind, the course director is a 50 something, red haired, red bearded, balding agnostic jewish scientist.

"Yes," I said, shaking my head and smiling. "Very attractive sounding."

"Yeah, I'll say," the course director went on. "What's the phone number you called?"

"You gonna ask him out?" I said.

"Yes!" the course director replied enthusiastically. "Or at least tell him he was wasting his talent!"

"And what else would he do?" I asked. "Read movie trailers?"

"Maybe. No! He should be that voice at the airport that tells you the moving sidewalk is about to end!"

He left after I reminded him not to lose the tech support phone number.

I love my doctors...even if they can be backed into a corner with a bottle of windex. But you can forgive that when they come in and address you as "oh venerable power point guru."

Anyway, the little exchange today was just one of billions of my "funny doctor stories". I'm going to start posting them. They're well worth sharing.

"Ballet" Flats...

This is what I get for dipping even my toe into the world of fashion and not just staying with my yoga clothes...

Everyone remember these? The cute little ballet flats? Well, aparently the fickle winds of fashion seasons have blown these out of style. When they were hip, I was unable to get a pair. But now I can and I'd like some, but they're nowhere to be found.

At least, under the guise of "ballet flats" they're nowhere to be found...

I've lived in the Middle East - but even if you haven't you can probably catch the distinctive Middle Easter/Eastern flavor of the design. The overlap bisecting the shoe gave it away to me - these little slippers are a complete knock off of the shoes that Arabian and Indian women have worn for centuries. "They've got to have a couple ethnic names..." I said to myself. So I started an internet crawl to try and discover it.

Well, ladies, if any of you missed out on this trend and really wish you hadn't, get on google and search Khussa Shoes. You'll find a literal treasure trove of these little guys - and they won't go out of style. Apparently the fashion winds don't blow as hard in Arabia as they do here - hurray!

Project Gutenberg

I want to draw attention once again to the amazing Project Gutenberg. I've started reading a 19th century British detective novel recently, and since it's out of copyright, it's on PG's website. This being the case, I can get up in the morning and read my book on the bus on the way to work, I can read snips and snatches on PG's site during the day when there's no work to be done, I can read it on the way home on the bus, I can read it while dinner's cooking, and I can read it before I go to bed!

Hurray for Project Gutenberg, who allows bookworms like me to leave my paperbound copy safe and unincriminatingly in my bag but still read it some during the day at work, thus having a completely uninterrupted day of reading!

(Oh, and anyone who's into Sherlock Holmes era British literature should check out The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins. It's hillarious!)

Another tough weekend behind me...

...yet God showed me alot.

After alot of struggling (not only physical...), I finally sat down with my Bible and devoted some study to the topic of trials. I started with Romans 5:3-5.

More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.

This was very helpful if for nothing else than this:

suffering --> endurance --> character --> hope

I was able to look at this and see God's intention for human suffering - to give me hope.

I know what you're thinking, because I thought the same thing: "we're to gain hope through suffering... That's a huge leap in logic God."

But this wasn't an X = Y thing - it was a process to walk through. I could see the continuum and was thus able to place at a point along the progression. I painfully realized that I had stuck and stopped at 'suffering'. I was mired down and wasn't moving along the line as God wanted.

In short, I really needed some help getting from suffering to hope. I was in the thick of my trial and didn't see how I was going to make that leap.

I praise God for the inspired man who penned Psalm 130:

"Out of the depths I cry to you, O LORD! O Lord, hear my voice!Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my pleas for mercy! If you, O LORD, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand? But with you there is forgiveness, that you may be feared. I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, and in his word I hope; my soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning. O Israel, hope in the LORD! For with the LORD there is steadfast love, and with him is plentiful redemption. And he will redeem Israel from all his iniquities."

It's not a long Psalm - only 6 verses - but it makes the leap. This has become my go-to passage when I'm feeling my trials pressing in on me from every side and I can see and feel nothing but suffering.

The writer begins with an outcry that I can always empathize with in the thick of trial: "Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my pleas for mercy!" This isn't someone who had a rough day at work and sends up a quick prayer that tomorrow be different. No, he's begging God for mercy. This is an afflicted man. This is exactly the stance of my own heart when my symptoms are resting hard on me - I want relief, I want release, I want mercy.

But where does he immediately turn? "If you, oh lord, should mark iniquities...who could stand?" He doesn't dwell on his affliction, but immediately brings the harsh truth of his situation to bear on his dispairing heart. He's a sinner - and if God kept a list of his sins he would be doomed. This is the truth of his standing before the God he's crying out to. This is more depressing than the trial that presses in on him.

The rest of the Psalm is very exciting. Instead of allowing the truth of his sin to condemn him, he immediately moves on to the gospel, rejoicing in the fact that God is a forgiving God. He's no longer sad - he's crying out in joy that he waits for the Lord as watchmen do for the morning! The last verses show his heart's turn-around. In them he's crying out to his country to hope in the Lord, for with him there is steadfast love, plentiful redemption. Not just love - steadfast love. Not just redemption - plentiful redemption. This man began crying out for mercy, and now, as he comes to the end of his poem, he remembers he has indeed already been shown mercy, mercy of the highest degree, mercy that saved his very soul from hell. What hope!

And there the leap has been made. This must have been a man who had suffered long, because he knew exactly how to lift his troubled spirit - and in only 6 verses! He must have moved along the continuum discribed in Romans 5. He had suffered, and endured it. This brought him to develop a godly, christ-like character, without which he never would have brough such truth to bear on his heart - he would have kept on pitying himself. This truth for us in our day, after Jesus death on the cross, is the gospel - and in the gospel, there is hope.

As I prayed to close my quiet time, I realized that I had been wailing over a mild physical affliction, all the while forgetting that my greater TERMINAL spiritual illness had already been healed - that's the hope of the gospel. I'd made the leap, and now everytime I'm feel the effects of my disease, I've been able to say "O Kari, hope in the LORD! For with the LORD there is steadfast love, and with him is plentiful redemption. And he will redeem you from all your iniquities!"

Bahrain Boat Disaster

Most anyone who knows me knows of my time in the Middle East. I usually just tell people I lived in Saudi Arabia, because they know where that is. But the truth is I lived on a little island nation off the coast of Saudi called Bahrain. It's only 10 miles by 30 miles, so you don't usually know about it unless you're really looking...

...or unless it makes the news.

Since Bahrain is an island, there's alot of fishing. The fishing is done on a boat called a Dhow. There are some more elaborate dhows, however - ones used as dinner boats or site-seeing vessels that sail around the harbor.

And like all boats, sometimes they capsize. There's a headline on BBC today about such a dissaster. There's a map of the island, so you can see my old hometown of Manama, and get an idea of how culturally diverse the little island is from the nationalities listed aboard the boat.

"Disciplines for Life"

I did it again. I thought I could stretch my book out further than it would go. I thought when I left the house this morning that I'd have enough left to read to see me through both the to and fro bus trips of my day, but I finished it on the way to work, and I didn't stick another book in my bag for the ride home...

But my devouring the last chapters on the way to work says something about the book. It's called Disciplines for Life by C.J. Mahaney and John Loftness. It's topic is the spiritual disciplines.

I had always kind of had a problem with the idea of the "quiet time" that I was presented with as I was growing up. The whole "15 minutes of bible reading, 15 minutes of prayer" seemed so dry and obligatory to me. I was never able to stay consistant because I didn't see any change come from it. When I searched scripture, I didn't see this accepted method perscribed anywhere. I began to wonder then if this whole "quiet time" thing was really a biblical idea...

Well, turns out it isn't and it is. The 15/15 upon waking format is directly mandated nowhere in scripture. However, the things that the 15/15 upon waking format encompass are. If you ask me now, I'm a hearty advocate of the traditional quiet time, because I've come to a better understanding of the heart motivation that must accompany the practical action. When this is properly understood, these times are rich, precious, and work alot of change in my heart and life.

That's why I liked this book so much. It didn't talk about "quiet times" first thing in the morning. It didn't even talk about quiet times. It just talked about the spiritual disciplines displayed in scripture and took them one per chapter, encrouaging the reader to work them into their life. Some things can't be practiced daily, but some things must if we're to truly grow in godliness. And honestly, most of these daily disciplines are best accomplished in the traditional notion of a "quiet time". I appreciated this book's focus on the heart and our posture before God and not so much on "here are the bullet points - now get to work checking them off! It'll please the Lord!" Friends, no it won't. God doesn't care so much about what we're doing as what the stance of our heart is. Quiet times are completely useless if we're just checking off boxes.

One of the things that really stood out to me was the emphasis on flexibility. We should tailor our practice of the spiritual disciplines to meet our spiritual needs at a given time, as well as be open to the Holy Spirit leading our pursuit of God in a different direction. For example, if we're convicted of a specific sin, we shouldn't feel chained to our Bible reading plan - we should feel free to follow up on that conviction with study of what scripture has to say about that sin. Or if we're presented with a major decision, we shouldn't feel we can't break our morning quiet time routine to spend an extended time praying and seeking God for guidance later in the day. Consistancy is important, but rigidity can be dangerous.

My quiet times lately haven't seemed very fulfilling. I had this book on my reading list for the year and decided it was time to read it. I realized that I had fallen into "checking off boxes." I'd become a desperate, obliged habit keeper. But after reading this book I see that some things have got to change.

I'm going to read through it again and revamp my practice of the spiritual disciplines. I whole-heartedly recommend it to everyone who feels like something's gotta change - because chances are, something does.

Housefly with glasses

look at this!

"Handsets taken to the grave"

Check this out

French Protests

I don't how many of you are following what's going on in France today. The government recently passed a law that would allow employers to fire anyone under 26 without reason or warning within a two year trial period, which starts the day they're hired.

The French youths are not pleased about it. They've been protesting ever since the law was passed, most of the time peacefully.

But today the protests were so massive they basically shut France down. Even the Eiffle Tower was closed. A million people took to the streets all over the country to protest the law. (At right: protesters in Marseille, France) It seems to be growing more chaotic and violent though...

If you're interested inseeing more, click the link below.

BBC's In Pictures: French Protests

Gift Cards and the Gospel

I have a little sticket on my desk at work with my wishlist on it. It's not terribly long, and I don't sit and sigh over the items thereon, but I do desire the things when the means are available. Thing # 1 on that list is a pair of brown cordoroy pants.

I went with some girls from my caregroup to a Ladies Meeting at the Fairfaix Soveriegn Grace Church last Saturday. The meeting and message were GREAT (download the message for March 25th here.) Before the message, though, they always play some games. This meeting they did give-aways. The give-aways were gift cards.

The way they decided who would win was they drew a number to identify a section of the audience (I was in section 2), then a number to identify the row of that section (I was row 7), then a final number to identify the seat in that row (I was seat 6). Whoever was in that specified seat won a gift card.

There were four gift cards, and on the third drawing 2 was called (and a gentle hum rose up from my section), then 7 was called (and all the girls in my row started squirming and fluttering a little) then 6 was called.

Honestly? I wasn't paying much attention. I wasn't feeling my best and I never win these kinds of things anyway. So when the girls in my group started hissing "Kari! That's you! That's you!" it took me a minute to get what was going on. But I did, and clutzed my way to the aisle to retrieve a $25 gift card to Old Navy.

I'm sure I blushed as I took it. I was really quite humbled. "Why me?" I silently asked God. I stuck it in my bag, freshly aware of how kind God was. I almost cried. (Kinda sappy sounding, I know, but really, all I could think about was that those numbers weren't random - God is soveriegn and he'd planned for me to recieve this little present. That's an intimately involved God! Yet a gift card is nothing compared to the gift of salvation granted me when Christ died in my place...then I started thinking of the gospel...and God's holiness...and my sinfulness... Are you starting to see why I was so moved? I was so glad for worship when it came time.)

We went out to lunch after the meeting ended and went home. I went shopping later that night to spend the gift card. I always check the clearance rack first - and wouldn't you know there were a pair of brown cordoroys, in my size, for half off? I could've cried right there...but I wanted until after I'd tried them on and they fit. They even had this awesome embroidered kabala design on the back pockets, lending a yoga-like touch to the get-up. I even adored the hemp-colored thread used on every seam. And because they were half off, I still had money left over to buy something fun - I chose a big hobo bag, which my husband has christened "the sack".

Every time I wear those cords or pick up my "sack", I find myself thinking of how God paid the price for them. I recieved them at no cost to myself. He did the same thing to purches my salvation - another thing I recieved at no cost to myself. What an amazing gift.

The Snowman Pictures

Remember the snow man I wrote about building with my husband back in February?

Here he is!!!

(for scale, I'm 5'5" and Stephan's over 6')

(above) Here's Sir Sysiphys Hillary!

Here's me hugging our new friend

It's hard to see, but Stephan's got his arm straight up over his head - the snowman's still taller

Me

It's tradition that we always take a photo of ourselves - Stephan took this one. You can see his arm. We've done this ever since our honeymoon.

My Eyes

When I was getting ready to move back to America after living in the Middle East, a friend of mine offered to draw a picture of me as a going-away present. He was a phenomenal artist, so I agreed to sit for him. But first he had to pick his colors.

"Lean over the table," he said, "so I can get your eye color."

So I did. As I expected he held up the blue pencil first. Then frowned and set it down and picked up a different blue one, then a different one, and then green ones, and some yellow ones, and even some gray ones. After a couple minutes of this he ended up with a pile of various blues, greens, grays and golds.

"All for my eyes?" I asked, settling back in my chair. "Will it even fit?"

"I'll make it fit," he said as he casually started sketching. "I've never seen this before. You've got almost the whole spectum from gold to blue pent up in there." He jabbed toward my eyes with the eraser of his pencil at the last word.

The picture came out beautiful and I never thought about it again.

Yesterday, eight years later, one web link led to another and I ended up on Wikipedia's entry for eye color. My dad has the textbook definition of blue eyes - completely clear, uninterrupted blue eyes. I've always thought mine were blue too - because they sure weren't the gorgeous green of my mom - but they aren't chrystalline like my dad's. Mine have this atypical starburst of yellow around the pupil and a kind of dark stealy blue rim.

But according to this website, the starburst isn't found in blue eyes - only in grey or blue-green eyes. So if one were seeking to classify my eyes like one classifies a rock specimen in geology, I'd be grey - not the blue I always thought.

My encounter with my artist friend came to mind as I read this entry. My eyes aren't blue at all, and never have been - at least not phenotypically.

But honestly? Big deal. I'm not going to go demand my driver's liscense be modified to display my newly discovered eye color, and I'm not going to start correcting my friend who thinks I should wear more blue because I have "blue eyes". But since this blog primarly functions as my journal, I wanted to record this happy finding for myself, so I could remember the day when I became a little more unique...at least on some obscure, genetic level.

(on a side note, while I have a yellow ring around my pupil, my husband has a copper ring - making him not a greeny but a blue-greeny! What fun stuff to pass on to our kids, eh?)

"In Pictures"

My husband is an excellent photographer (not professional, but certainly far excelling the point-n-shoot variety of picture taker - namely me!) so I enjoy wonderfully artistic, well composed photographs of our memories.

I've come to enjoy photography more since I met him. One day while prowling the BBC News webpage for the latest goings-on in the world I came across a section called "In Pictures." If you go to the BBC News Homepage, on the left navigation bar about halfway down, there's a little link for "In Pictures." Click on it and it will take you to the In Pictures homepage, where you can choose from a variety of categories: The Week in pictures, Today in pictures, major news stories in pictures, and other fun vingettes. It's worth taking a look at. Some of the pictures are pretty amazing.