Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Snake skin: an unexpected spiritual metaphor

While on my run on Monday, I found this snake skin lying in the grass alongside the trail. I was impressed by its size (4 feet long), and I had never seen a snake skin so fresh. It was soft & pliable, and even still a little wet even though it was lying in the sun. Though the snake must have been there just minutes before, I didn’t see the snake anywhere nearby so I lingered a bit to investigate.

It was remarkable how, at first glance, an empty shell looked like it was the actual snake that the skin had come from. (At that time it was not yet dry and wrinkly, so still held the form of the intact snake.) And yet, though it still looked like a snake and was at one time the most visible part of the snake, although it still had many of the external features of a snake, the skin itself was definitely not an actual snake. (Thank God! I don’t want to meet a 4-foot snake on the trail, thankyouverymuch.)

As I continued on my run, I meditated on this idea of empty shells and true life. I see the Christian life in that snake. The phrase “put off the former things” reverberated in my mind.
22 … in reference to your former manner of life, you lay aside the old self, which is being corrupted in accordance with the lusts of deceit, 23 and that you be renewed in the spirit of your mind, 24 and put on the new self, which in the likeness of God has been created in righteousness and holiness of the truth. Ephesians 4:22-24
I “lay aside the old self” like the snake sheds its skin. There are ways of life, habits of behavior, and patterns of thinking that I once identified as central and essential to my identity. This old self is visible in the “skin”, the way I externally present myself in the world, but it comes from within. The skin grows out of who I am on the inside.

But, like a snake, the skin I once wore it doesn’t fit me anymore. A snake molts because its skin cannot grow.1 New growth requires that the snake “lay aside the old self”. If the old skin is not removed, blood flow is constricted and growth is hindered.

Are you constricted by the skin you’re in? Are you letting the old self of who you once were set limits on your growth? Do you look to the “skin” of what people see when they look at you to determine your sense of identity? What do you need to put off in order to allow for growth?

Next post (tomorrow?) I want to talk about more parallels to spiritual growth that I see in this snakeskin. It’s weird, I know. Snakes are not something I normally think of as a spiritual metaphor for anything other than temptation. But it’s amazing how God created the world in such a way that as we look around in nature, we can see glimpses of His character and the ways of His Kingdom reflected all around us. 

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Why I'm writing for #dosummer2015

My friend, Trena, invited me to join her in the #dosummer2015 challenge. 
15 minutes a day, for 100 days, I'm going to write something and share it.

For years I’ve talked about wanting to write more often, to improve my writing skills and find what I’m meant to say. But the go-go-go busy pace of life that I’ve fallen into has made it difficult to find the time and make it happen.

Oh, who am I kidding? We’re all busy. None of us have extra time. If I’m honest with myself, and with you, the real reason I haven’t written consistently is because it’s easier to hide behind “busy” than to risk failing.

What if I have nothing to say?

What if I have too much to say

What if I hurt people?

What if it’s meaningless

Those questions sit here with me, scratching and tapping at the back of my head as I scratch and tap at the keyboard. “stop. Stop. STOP!” they say, “What if you waste your time? What if you waste your life?”

Well, fear, what if?

What if I waste my life listening to you, stuffing down that thing inside me that says “write. Write. WRITE! You have something important to say!” What if I spend so much energy trying to avoid the pain of failure that I end up missing the very reason that I am made

It feels scary to say “I’m going to write at least 15 minutes a day, and I’m going to just put it out there in the world and let anyone read it.” (Ya’ll be gentle, ok?) I know that somehow writing is a part of the way God wired me to engage with the world, to find what’s real and true and right and good and share it. To wrestle reality into words and put them on the page…it helps me to see, it helps me to hear, it helps me to speak. I have a story to tell, I have a song to sing. God’s given me a voice, so I’m going to learn to use it. 


It’s risky, this business of sharing life with each other and being our real selves, not just some made-up fa├žade. When we hoard the things that we hold most valuable, when we resist being vulnerable, we think we are protecting ourselves from loss. Avoiding risk feels safe. But as a good friend once said, “Life is risk. Better make the risk count.”

I hope and pray that this writing counts; that by the end of the summer I will have spent 1500 minutes learning, practicing, and growing in a way that matters. If nothing else, I will learn something.

So, what is the risk you need to take? What’s that thing you keep saying you want to do “someday”, but you’ve been too busy, too afraid, too distracted to actually start doing? Want to jump in and #dosummer2015 with us? It's not just for writing. It's for anything. What do you need to do?

Thursday, March 05, 2015


Took the long way home from work today. The drive only adds about 7 more minutes to my commute, but it's significantly more beautiful than my usual route.
As I drove, unhurried, I wondered momentarily why I don't do this more often - why I don't take the longer way, even when I know I enjoy it so much more. The question was answered as soon as I wondered it.
I usually don't have 7 minutes to spare.
Not even just a 7 minute margin, for beauty's sake.
Margins on a page give space for a story to come to life, to take shape, to be comprehensible.
Margins in a life give space for our story to come to life, to take shape, to be comprehensible.
Without space it's too easy to lose what gives meaning to our lives.
Margins are for beauty. I'm carving out space for more.

Monday, January 28, 2013

This Little Mommy Went to Market, This Little Mommy Stayed Home...

After spending the last 7+ years as a stay-at-home mom, I recently returned to work on a full-time temporary basis while my husband stays home with our kids. I have learned a few surprising things during this time, and I hope these lessons stick with me. Here are a few:

  • I have a new appreciation for the value of the hard work that my husband does outside the home to provide for and sustain our family.

When I’ve spent the whole day at home with the kids, I am typically counting down the minutes until my husband walks in the door. It’s not at all uncommon for me to have one thing on my mind in that moment – “I want a break!” Caring for children is hard work, emotionally taxing, and physically exhausting. But I have not appreciated as I should the blessing of a hard working husband. My husband’s job is physically demanding, and he carries the weight of responsibility to not only do his job well, but also to provide for our family’s needs. He lays down his life for us every day, and one expression of that is his devotion to work hard. I don’t want to take that for granted anymore. I don’t want to consider my role at home as the important one, and his work outside the home as an interference. Yes, the work of a husband and father goes far beyond earning a living, but the work he does matters more than I have shown. 

  • Until now, I have underestimated the impact that can be made simply by trying to have the kids calm and dinner ready when my husband gets home from work.

Please don’t throw anything at your computer screen. I know I’ve heard this kind of thing before and thought “Yeah, right! Why don’t YOU come to my house and try to make dinner with 5 kids underfoot. And give your best shot at trying to get them to stop fighting before Daddy walks in the door. Good Luck!” I’m not saying that I will, or even should, have everything perfect every day when he gets home from work. But I am confident that I haven’t given this the effort that it deserves. When I come home from work to find the kids at the table and a delicious hot meal waiting for me, I feel incredibly grateful, and incredibly humbled. After a full day at work, I am tired and hungry. (Much more tired and hungry than it seems I should be after just sitting at a computer and talking on the phone all day.) I know that he’s tired too, and yet I walk in the door and find our kids’ needs being met, and my needs anticipated. In that moment, food and happy kids are my love language. After the first few days of working, I thought silently “Why don’t I do this for you? Why don’t I work harder to make your homecoming a good one?” 

  • Work is invigorating, and that doesn't diminish the value of motherhood.

As much as I am learning about things that will directly impact my mothering, I’m also gaining perspective that it’s ok that there is more to me than simply being a mother, even in this season when my kids are little. I am surprised by how much I like my job. I get to learn new things every day. I talk to many people, and almost all of them have the ability to speak in full sentences and comprehend what I say. I get up early and get dressed every morning, and even do my hair and makeup. I really enjoy going to work. I enjoy the intellectual stimulation and sense of accomplishment. I like that I can complete a task from start to finish in one sitting. I enjoy work in a way that doesn't have a counterpart in my mothering experience. But my enjoyment of work does not diminish my enjoyment of motherhood, and it certainly doesn't diminish my value as a mother. 

  • Being present in my kids’ lives is necessary. Being omnipresent in my kids’ lives is impossible, and attempting to be so is inadvisable.

  • When he’s out of the home all day, I need to talk with my husband more about what’s going on with our kids…and that’s ok.

  • There are other people who love my kids besides me, and it’s good to make space for some of them to have a place of influence.

  • When he’s out of the home all day, I need to talk with my husband more about what’s going on with me…and that’s ok.

  • A mother's discipleship is not only for her children – there is a world full of people that need us to shine the light, speak the truth, and walk with them as we follow Jesus.

I was offered the opportunity to keep my job on a permanent basis, with an increase in pay. I turned down the offer. As much as I love my job, I know that once my husband returns to work, the place I am most needed in my family will be at home. When my temporary position ends, I will return home to be a full-time mom. I will not for a moment regret my decision to walk away from work and back to my kids. But I’ll be a different person when I go back. Hopefully less self-centered and self-righteous. I will appreciate the time a little more. I will appreciate my husband more. I will judge working moms less. I will appreciate working moms more. I will work a little harder. I will pray a little harder, and play a little harder, and hopefully laugh more. I am thankful for the gift of this season, and I look forward to the next one with great anticipation.

Friday, April 29, 2011

How will they know Him?

       When my oldest daughter, Abigail, was less than a year old, I felt overwhelmed by the task of raising this little girl to know and love Jesus. It was my most earnest desire as a mother, but I felt a bit daunted by the weight of significance.

       At that time, we had a young man named Caleb living with us. I felt the Lord ask me “How does Abigail know Caleb?” She, of course, knew Caleb because he lived in our house. She saw him every day, she heard our conversations with him, she observed our interaction with him, she talked with him and played with him. His mere presence in our home meant that it would be pretty difficult for her not to know him. Of course, her knowledge of him and relationship with him differed from ours, since in her youth she lacked understanding in some of the things that we adults could know about one another. But nonetheless, she knew him, as well as she could know anyone, simply by living with him.

       I felt the Lord encouraging me that what I am longing to see in my children in terms of knowing and loving God will not be primarily a matter of “teaching” her to know the Lord, but mostly the result of simply living in His presence. If His Spirit is truly filling our hearts, if we talk with Him daily, if we tell the stories of all the things He’s done throughout history (even before we were born), if we reminisce about special times we’ve shared with Him…then He will be as real to her, and as knowable, as any other person who resides in our home.

       I was simultaneously encouraged and challenged by that invitation, and I think I’m feeling that same kind of longing right now. I’ve been thinking about the humanity and divinity of Jesus a lot lately. I am hungry to know Him – to really, really know Him. “From Patmos” (learn about it here; or watch it here) gave such a tangible picture of Jesus in the flesh – a man who was knowable, just like I know any other friend. I want that longing for the Messiah to come (again), and that awe and joy and confidence that the Messiah is my friend. Is He really as tangible to me as the people I can reach out and touch with my hands? I know He is a person, not a collection of ideas, but am I really engaging with Him on that level on a moment by moment basis?

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Happy Easter!

     Jesus is Alive! We have reason to celebrate! I hope that you, dear visitor to my little blog, know the hope that is found in Jesus.
     God Himself, come to dwell with men in the flesh, has defeated sin and death and showed us perfectly the character of God. The Servant King, the Holy One, humbled Himself even to the point of willingly submitting to death. He didn't submit just to the idea of death (as in death as a result of the breakdown of the human body over time) but specifically a form of death intended to torture and humiliate (the cross). But He is not defeated. He is Risen! He really died, and he really was resurrected. After defeating death, His physical, resurrected body walked on the earth, among many witnesses. He now dwells in heaven with the Father, and He will come again to the earth to establish His kingdom.
     One very real day to come, every knee will bow (including your own) and every tongue declare that Jesus Christ is Lord. This won't be spiritual knees in some ethereal fantasy land. You, my friend, will have a body on that day, and you will bow before the King of the universe.

     He desires that you know Him and worship Him now, in your brief life on the earth. By His very real death and resurrection, He has made the way for you to have True Life. To know God and be transformed into His image. You do not have to be a slave to sin!
     This is what we celebrate today.

    An egg hunt might seem like a silly way to celebrate, but there is something to be found in the symbols of searching , finding hidden treasure, within eggs (representing new life), and the opening of that egg to find a surprise gift waiting inside (like discovering the open tomb, and the surprise gift of the resurrection of the Messiah).

Wednesday, March 02, 2011

Bread of Life

Jesus said, “I am the bread of life. He who comes to Me shall never hunger, 
and he who believes in Me shall never thirst.” John 6:35

I didn’t get to spend time sitting with my bible yesterday, but the Lord totally spoke to me while I was working with Abigail on her Bible homework. It was a good reminder that giving myself to the Word doesn’t have to follow a certain comfortable and familiar formula (i.e. me + bible + comfy chair (+warm drink if possible)) For her class each week we memorize a verse and do some meditation time. While we were meditating, the Lord gave me this picture:

     I saw Jesus standing in front of a vast, endless ocean of loaves of bread. He was smiling. Large, hefty loaves of bread were piled up behind him, and they went as far as I could see, out to the horizon. I knew it was showing His inexhaustible resources. I was struck with the understanding that the supply needed to be inexhaustible, because we need to continually be fed from His hand. The elimination of hunger that resulted was not because of some magical quality within the bread. In other words, it was the coming to Jesus that resulted in being filled and hunger being satisfied. This was not a matter of acquiring something that would once and for all bring satisfaction. Being fed was a natural result of coming to Him, but once having been fed we were not then able to walk away without experiencing that same gnawing hunger once again.

     I knew there were many people before Him, but I only saw one person, right at His feet. I felt this was speaking to Jesus’ intimate knowledge of the needs of each one who came to Him, and the way He tenderly cares for each one of us. He was not simply tossing food into the hungry masses. He was personally and intimately providing exactly the nourishment that was needed for that specific person at that precise moment.

     I had a brief picture of Jesus turning around to the immense pile of loaves and searching for a specific loaf, but I knew in an instant that this was a picture of my own distorted understanding of His ways, and not the true nature of what God was showing me. I asked the Lord for understanding, and I saw the searching through loaves as somehow representing Jesus looking for a thing outside of Himself to give. I saw myself flipping through my bible, looking for just the right verse that would really speak to me in the moment. It was as though I was identifying the “bread of life” that quenches hunger as being embodied within a specific encouraging word, a scripture, an impression, etc. I was seeing His perfection of knowing of me and his perfect resource as being hindered by a delay in connecting me with just the right “thing” that would satisfy.

     Suddenly I was looking at him again, and He was shining brighter than before. Whereas before the sense was of a room full of light, where He was out of place, this time the light was clearly emanating from Him. He was luminescent. He began to reach his hands into his own belly, and as He did the ocean of bread disappeared from behind Him and the most intense light I’ve ever seen burst out from the place where He reached inside Himself. I instantly knew that the bread He was giving was not simply available to Him to give, it was within and of Him. He Himself is the bread of life. We are nourished by His very essence, His character. In coming to Him we receive of Him, and this alone is the bread that satisfies.

     He was meeting the very specific needs and satisfying every cry of hunger within those who came to Him, but it was not by means of anything external to Himself. He reached inside Himself and from within came forth what was needed to give life. Now, I don’t mean that what He gave was the same for each person from that point on. There was still distinction in what He gave. But there was no hesitation, no searching, no pondering what would be needed, and nothing added apart from what He Himself was. He simply gazed lovingly in the eyes of the one before Him, reached into Himself, and brought forth exactly what was right.