A Seasonal Verse

For the last year or so, we've had a family tradition of a seasonal verse. It starts with our Back to School Feast and theme in September. We write the Bible verse on the kitchen chalkboard and practice saying it at breakfast. There is nothing militant about this practice; sometimes we go over it, sometimes we don't. We write a new verse on the chalkboard in January, and then I come up with another one for the summer. So, three verses a year. That is a slow and easy pace, but one which ensures that these verses sink deep into our memory banks. 

On Tuesday, I showed the boys our summer verse:

We talked about how we can come near to God through prayer, Bible study, or just thinking about him. We talked about how he promises to be near us. We read the verse a few times, and then someone burped. You know, the usual. 


A family seasonal verse is just one way that we try to teach our children about God.


Have you ever picked a verse to concentrate on for a season? How does your family incorporate scripture into your daily life?


Linking with:
Works for Me Wednesday @ We Are THAT Family
Playdates @ The Wellspring
Thought Provoking Thursday @ intentional.me

Seasons (a guest post)

Happy Memorial Day. 

I am feeling thankful for our country, veterans, and freedom today. It is something to stop and savor, don't you think? I am also enjoying this summer-kick-off weekend with cook-outs, water gun fights, and friends. Life is good. 


Tomorrow, life will continue to be good, but reality will hit: school's out for the summer. This change of seasons prompted my guest post over at Exceptionally Average today. I'd be honored if you headed over there to check it out. Click here.


Linking with:



 

Weekend Word: A Season

Welcome to the weekend where we welcome summer. I'm thinking a lot about seasons these days. As with any thought that lingers, it is helpful to go the Bible, and see what God has to say. Often, it is the most familiar passages that shed new light, even if they do get a certain song stuck in your brain. (And doggone it, Forrest Gump always gets me all teary.)

There is a time for everything,

and a season for every activity under heaven:

a time to be born and a time to die,

a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal,

a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh,

a time to mourn and a time to dance,

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,

a time to embrace and a time to refrain,

a time to search and a time to give up,

a time to keep and a time to throw away,

a time to tear and a time to mend,

a time to be silent and a time to speak,

a time to love and a time to hate,

a time for war and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

Linking with:

and later, WFW @ Internet Cafe Devotions

The Nudge

Grace for the Good Girl by Emily Freeman won our poll the other day, for what book we should study this summer for Reap to Sow. Maybe you noticed Emily's message in the comments? I was tickled that she stopped by. She mentioned that she will be discussing her book weekly on her blog, starting May 31. 


Andrea and I are both interested in reading Emily's book and what she will have to say about it. We considered timing Reap to Sow to follow Emily's blog, and that perhaps this was divine intervention - an expanded book club experience! But as we thought more about it, and our family summer schedules, we came to the realization that Reap to Sow should be put off until the fall. I'll share my email response to Andrea with you:

"I love how God works. I've been feeling a nudge to cut back on my screen time this summer, but I've hesitated. I really wanted to do Reap to Sow. Now, with Emily's review of GFTGG going on at the same time and your suggestion to direct our readers that way (which my black or white literal mind never would have conceived) I think God is continuing the nudge. He is showing me how to cut back. I felt a sense of relief when I read your email - I think putting it off until the fall is what we should do." 

So, Reap to Sow will return, but just not yet. I will be blogging here all summer, but not five days a week. I enjoy being online and communicating with you all, but I can see that I shouldn't commit to a writing schedule with my boys at home all summer. The truth is, I've been struggling to find time to write for a while. The end of nap time has been the pits. As I write this, they are having "quite time" which usually results in scenes like this:

I mean . . . really?

Mid-afternoon breaks like that are not exactly helpful to anything I want to get done, be it writing, laundry or something else. I need to step back in order to figure out how to find time for this blogging hobby of mine. I need to live a little, too. I'd hate for my kids to remember this as the Summer That Mommy Sat At The Computer.


That being said, I still plan to post 3-4 times a week. I'll be reading Grace for the Good Girl and I look forward to hearing what Emily will have to say about it. But mostly, I'm looking forward to dirty toes, sweaty heads, sunscreen, chlorine, and all the other sights, smells and sounds that go along with little boys and summer. 

See you back here soon!
Courtney

7: Possessions

Today, I am joining Amy and Steph's book club review of Jen Hatmaker's book, 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess. The basic premiss is that Jen identified seven areas of excess in her life, and wrote a chapter about how she spent a month reducing in each area. I am writing about Chapter 3, Possessions, where Jen decided to give away seven items that her family owns, every day, for one month. Whether you've read the book or not, I hope you will read what I've written. I think your thoughts will be provoked. Plus, this post has taken me days, and it has worn me out.

------------------------------------

So. This chapter really messed with me. It's not because I feel completely convicted, but rather, it is because I bristled at Jen's assertion that "donating to Goodwill is fine, but . . . " She went on to quote Shane Claiborne (see below), and she concluded that specific, person-to-person giving, where rich and poor meet, is more meaningful. I bristled because I donate to Goodwill and the "but" made me feel bad. I shouldn't feel bad about doing something that is good. And yet I did, because it pointed out an embarrassing reality of my life - I don't have a lot of interaction with the poor.


I used to. I grew up with lots of kids who qualified as poor. At school, my middle-class self was in the minority. Many of my classmates lived in government housing, and they called me "rich" because I lived in a two story brick house. (Yes, Jen's introduction about why she wrote this book - being called "rich" by a hurricane evacuee who saw her house - resonated.) I was familiar with "the poor." We passed notes in Spanish class and worked on the yearbook together. It wasn't always friendly; some kids resented me and showed it in nasty ways, but now I can say that I'm glad I had that experience.


Had that experience. It is over now. My life is different and I am living like most people - with my own. For the most part, the poor are with the poor, the middle class are with the middle class, and the rich are with the rich. I mean, really - are you friends with people in a different (really different) socioeconomic situation? It is a conundrum. When I am provoked by an author like Jen, to think about interacting with the poor, getting to know them, and meeting their needs first hand, it is easy to let defensiveness stop me short. It is easy to find excuses. What? Am I supposed to move my family? Put my kids in a failing school? Drive downtown at night? Giving to charities and dropping off at Goodwill isn't good enough anymore? There is a temptation to say, "Whatever. I do enough."


That is where this chapter gave me fits. And after much thought, (and writing, and deleting) I don't think Jen wants me to feel terrible about myself. I don't think she is advocating class warfare, or the idea that possessions shouldn't be earned. I think she simply wants me to remember that "the poor" are real people. They have hearts and faces and tears, like me. They have dreams and faults and fears, like me. It could be me.

I get that. I know that. I can think about a lot of different people in my life and KNOW that. Still, I am wrestling with this quote, and the idea that it can be this simple:

"I had come to see that the great tragedy in the church is not that the rich Christians do not care about the poor but that rich Christians do not know the poor . . . I long for the Calcutta slums to meet the Chicago suburbs, for lepers to meet landowners and for each to see God's image in the other . . . I truly believe that when the poor meet the rich, riches will have no meaning. And when the rich meet the poor, we will see poverty come to an end." Shane Claiborne, The Irresistible Revolution, as quoted in 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess.

It wasn't like that where I grew up. That town suffers from poverty now more than ever. It wasn't easy for the haves and the have-nots to be so close. They knew each other, and poverty prevailed. It wasn't easy for our giving and taking to be done without a third party. There was anger, and there was hurt. Everything was complicated. As a result, I find it hard to buy into the Kumbaya tone of Shane's last sentence. I'm not convinced that we will see poverty come to an end, and with that admission, I am tempted to shy away from the face - yes, the face - of poverty. Who wants to see that? 


I'm pretty sure the answer is: Jesus. 


So. I am left clinging to what my pastor says every Sunday, and what Shane says right in the middle of his big, hopeful quote: For each to see God's image in the other. To see . . . each other. If I see God's image in you, and you see God's image in me, then perhaps it isn't so complicated. Perhaps that is what was missing from my experience before. Perhaps, with God's reflection in the picture, we can see the good intentions on both sides. Perhaps there is Kumbaya hope. 


What do you think? Is face-to-face giving important to you? How do you do it?




Linking with:




Thought Provoking Thursday @intentional.me

Home

If this doesn't make you think about God, and people, and going home, then I don't know what does.

Hamlin Creek gets some help.

Jammer 

The Sea Turtle Hospital at the South Carolina Aquarium rehabilitates injured sea turtles. Hamlin Creek and Jammer were both nearly dead when they were found. They each spent about one year at the hospital. On Friday, they were sent home.

As I watched each turtle orient itself towards the sea, I was struck by the power of natural instincts. Hamlin Creek and Jammer moved with purpose and determination. They knew just where to go, and how to get there. It was clear that even though they had been away for so long, they knew home when they saw it.

 They are sea turtles, meant to be in the sea. It is how God made them.


So off they go, never to be seen again, but in their rightful place. 


For we know that if the earthy tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. 2 Corinthians 5:1


Did you see anything this weekend that made you think about the majesty of God's design?


Linking with on Monday:


Playdates @ The Wellspring
on Tuesday:






on Wednesday:
God-Bumps and God-Incidences @ Getting Down With Jesus

Making the Path Straight

I've known this verse for years, but living it is much easier said than done. I wonder, in what ways can I lean not on myself, but submit to him, this weekend? 


Until Monday, may your paths be straight . . . 

{Reap to Sow will return this summer, and we need you to help us choose the book. Read more about our plans here, and vote on the top sidebar. Thank you!}

Linking with:
Thought Provoking Thursday @ intentional.me



and later, with WFW @ Internet Cafe Devotions