It's a good exercise to remember my complete inability and unloveliness before the Able and Lovely. It's a better exercise to soak in His love and forget about myself.
"All my life you've been calling me to a home You know I've been needing...I'm a broken stone, so lay me in the house You're building..."
For while we were still weak,
at the right time Christ died for the ungodly.
- Romans 5:6
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Better than Sons and Daughters
Last night I got to demonstrate my amazing auntie prowess and sit with my darling niece, Ivy, for a few hours. After her parents walked out the door I fed her, rocked her, and set her gently in her cradle for a nice little sleep...which lasted all of about twenty minutes before the other baby in the family, Mowgli the Dog, started barking his head off at the presence of an invisible intruder.
Needless to say I spent the rest of the time be-bopping around the Christmas tree with my not-quite-two month old niece mesmerized by the lights. I think she was less mesmerized, however, by my faulty renditions of several Christmas classics. "Have a holly jolly Christmas, it's the best time of the year, la la la, something, la..." was how it generally went. At the end of the two hours, I was happy to hand little Ivy off to her momma (mostly because it was feeding time), and her momma was happy to have her back. Yep, being an aunt is a pretty good gig.
This morning as I stood at the kitchen sink, pouring my coffee and shredded wheat (but not into the same container), I thought about how thankful I am that I'm not married. This probably sounds strange, because previous posts on this blog would indicate otherwise, but I really am most of the time thankful for the gift of singleness. I am becoming increasingly aware of the special gift that it is, and the advantages and disadvantages that come with it.
A week ago I had lunch with a group of people from my church and one friend and fellow single was talking about being a Isaiah 54 wife, that is, the Lord is your husband. Although I don't think there is anything wrong with a single woman, never-married or widowed, to cling to these verses for comfort, I've never been down with it myself, and in the last year or so, I've been enamored with a passage from Isaiah 56.
This passage really comforted me when I was making the decision to go back into full-time missions service. I was struggling because it felt like the death of my dreams - husband, children, home - and the taking on of a dream I wasn't really sure I wanted. At that time I was 100% certain that if I choose the mission field, I would be choosing singleness as well.
I'm not really sure that's the case (I know it certainly isn't for all missionaries), but most days it feels like I will be single all of my life. I still struggle to be okay with that reality, especially now when I'm in my late twenties and everyone around me seems to be dating, getting married, married, or having babies. I want all those things too, but I am learning to be content with what God has called me to in this season of my life, and singleness is becoming less of an unspeakable horror, and more of an honor.
And really, whether we're married or single, it's our duty to "choose the things that please Me", to choose to please the Lord in whatever state we find ourselves. I just happen to find myself in the state of singleness. However, that eunuch thing really speaks to me. To be unable at this time in my life to have physical sons and daughters, it comforts me to know that I am called to care for and nurture spiritual life in other people's sons and daughters (as are other singles. I'm not that special). And if I continue in this state of singleness all of my life (which would be okay), I still have a place in God's house, and a name that He calls me, which is better than sons and daughters ("still". In my messed up economy this life is still more important than that Life. Sigh. I'm working on it).
Better than sons and daughters. That's hard to believe when you're holding a warm baby in your arms and kissing their chubby cheeks, or when your BFF is dating an awesome guy (which mine is at the moment), or when scads (literally scads) of people even younger than you are standing at the altar with goofy looks in their eyes. Faith is a daily struggle, but a worth-it fight. And as I press into knowing more of the goodness of God, that name is looking better and better.
Postscript: I'm really thankful for older singles who show me what faithfulness to God within the gift of singleness really looks like. They don't shrug off the struggles of singleness, but neither do they let those struggles defeat them. They take that gift and they work it. They let God use them to their full capacities and they serve Him. They are beautiful pictures of fun, and laughter, and service, and grace. Especially to this young single who is still getting used to the "gift" and wants to know how to use it well. So, thanks. You all are some of my favorite people around.
Needless to say I spent the rest of the time be-bopping around the Christmas tree with my not-quite-two month old niece mesmerized by the lights. I think she was less mesmerized, however, by my faulty renditions of several Christmas classics. "Have a holly jolly Christmas, it's the best time of the year, la la la, something, la..." was how it generally went. At the end of the two hours, I was happy to hand little Ivy off to her momma (mostly because it was feeding time), and her momma was happy to have her back. Yep, being an aunt is a pretty good gig.
This morning as I stood at the kitchen sink, pouring my coffee and shredded wheat (but not into the same container), I thought about how thankful I am that I'm not married. This probably sounds strange, because previous posts on this blog would indicate otherwise, but I really am most of the time thankful for the gift of singleness. I am becoming increasingly aware of the special gift that it is, and the advantages and disadvantages that come with it.
A week ago I had lunch with a group of people from my church and one friend and fellow single was talking about being a Isaiah 54 wife, that is, the Lord is your husband. Although I don't think there is anything wrong with a single woman, never-married or widowed, to cling to these verses for comfort, I've never been down with it myself, and in the last year or so, I've been enamored with a passage from Isaiah 56.
1 Thus says the LORD:
"Keep justice, and do righteousness,
for soon my salvation will come,
and my deliverance be revealed.
2 Blessed is the man who does this,
and the son of man who holds it fast,
who keeps the Sabbath, not profaning it,
and keeps his hand from doing any evil."
3 Let not the foreigner who has joined himself to the LORD say,
"The LORD will surely separate me from his people";
and let not the eunuch say,
"Behold, I am a dry tree."
4 For thus says the LORD:
"To the eunuchs who keep my Sabbaths,
who choose the things that please me
and hold fast my covenant,
5 I will give in my house and within my walls
a monument and a name
better than sons and daughters;
I will give them an everlasting name
that shall not be cut off.
This passage really comforted me when I was making the decision to go back into full-time missions service. I was struggling because it felt like the death of my dreams - husband, children, home - and the taking on of a dream I wasn't really sure I wanted. At that time I was 100% certain that if I choose the mission field, I would be choosing singleness as well.
I'm not really sure that's the case (I know it certainly isn't for all missionaries), but most days it feels like I will be single all of my life. I still struggle to be okay with that reality, especially now when I'm in my late twenties and everyone around me seems to be dating, getting married, married, or having babies. I want all those things too, but I am learning to be content with what God has called me to in this season of my life, and singleness is becoming less of an unspeakable horror, and more of an honor.
And really, whether we're married or single, it's our duty to "choose the things that please Me", to choose to please the Lord in whatever state we find ourselves. I just happen to find myself in the state of singleness. However, that eunuch thing really speaks to me. To be unable at this time in my life to have physical sons and daughters, it comforts me to know that I am called to care for and nurture spiritual life in other people's sons and daughters (as are other singles. I'm not that special). And if I continue in this state of singleness all of my life (which would be okay), I still have a place in God's house, and a name that He calls me, which is better than sons and daughters ("still". In my messed up economy this life is still more important than that Life. Sigh. I'm working on it).
Better than sons and daughters. That's hard to believe when you're holding a warm baby in your arms and kissing their chubby cheeks, or when your BFF is dating an awesome guy (which mine is at the moment), or when scads (literally scads) of people even younger than you are standing at the altar with goofy looks in their eyes. Faith is a daily struggle, but a worth-it fight. And as I press into knowing more of the goodness of God, that name is looking better and better.
Postscript: I'm really thankful for older singles who show me what faithfulness to God within the gift of singleness really looks like. They don't shrug off the struggles of singleness, but neither do they let those struggles defeat them. They take that gift and they work it. They let God use them to their full capacities and they serve Him. They are beautiful pictures of fun, and laughter, and service, and grace. Especially to this young single who is still getting used to the "gift" and wants to know how to use it well. So, thanks. You all are some of my favorite people around.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Counseling and Scarlett O'Hara
A few blog posts ago I told you that I am paying someone to fix me. I wish it were that simple. Unfortunately, it is not. It is a long and arduous process which often leaves me emotionally drained and cranky.
Currently in my life I have the time and resources to do something that I've wanted to do for a long time, which is to get professional counseling. I'm sure you couldn't tell by my other blog posts, but I have a lot of issues.
The current issue that I'm working on is dealing with the fallout from abuse suffered in my past. The issues that I'm reaping from those painful seeds include a lot of anger and some destructive and unbiblical ways I deal with that pain and anger.
It's difficult to share these things with you. I wonder if it's better not to, but I know that what ministers most to me are honest struggles. But I'm trying to struggle well. I don't want to wallow in the pain, because I am being redeemed and I don't want to discount the Redeemer and His work in my life. But for so long I've avoided dealing with these issues and so right now I'm having trouble doing anything BUT wallowing.
Counseling brings up so many things that you didn't even know were there. And for me, the very existence of those "unknowns", throw me into a panic. I think I'm pretty "self-aware" (but maybe just self-centered), and to discover all of these issues I didn't even know I had is, in a word, depressing. I am so much worse than I thought I was! Oh, the ugly self-righteousness.
I have a lot more to say about this. I want to defend myself so you don't think I've swallowed the pill of popular psychology and am presently going to start screaming about how I just need to learn how to love myself and then everything will be alright. But no. No, right now you just need to know that I am a messed-up sinner, trying to forgive other messed-up sinners (which is a task that seems at this point in my life, simply unachievable), without losing sight of God, responding in an unbiblical way to the hurt, or hindering the ministry to which God has called me.
These are good, hard days for me. I'm so glad I can talk through all of these issues with someone who is helping me to deal with them in a godly way and see myself the way God sees me. I'm thankful for God's Word which speaks truth into my life and helps me to crush the lies. I'm thankful for grace, and the work of Christ that makes that grace possible. And lastly, I am thankful that God justifies the ungodly. That is a truth that I've been clinging to lately. Because I am, but He does.
I'm sure there will be many other blog posts on this issue, and maybe through them God will even minister to someone. I can only hope. But in the end, it's not about me. I'm learning that in this counseling process, and believe me, it is often a rude awakening. So, will you pray for me? Pray that I grieve well. Pray that I heal well. Pray that I forgive well. And when I saw "well" I mean in a way that brings glory to Christ, because all of these things are hard. Hard.
So, there you have it, the promised blog post. Next, I think I'm supposed to tell you more about my glamorous missionary life. So much glamour, where to even begin? Well, in the words of that paragon of mental health, Scarlett O'Hara (I bet you were wondering when she was finally going to figure into this post), "I won't think about that now, I'll think about that tomorrow".
Currently in my life I have the time and resources to do something that I've wanted to do for a long time, which is to get professional counseling. I'm sure you couldn't tell by my other blog posts, but I have a lot of issues.
The current issue that I'm working on is dealing with the fallout from abuse suffered in my past. The issues that I'm reaping from those painful seeds include a lot of anger and some destructive and unbiblical ways I deal with that pain and anger.
It's difficult to share these things with you. I wonder if it's better not to, but I know that what ministers most to me are honest struggles. But I'm trying to struggle well. I don't want to wallow in the pain, because I am being redeemed and I don't want to discount the Redeemer and His work in my life. But for so long I've avoided dealing with these issues and so right now I'm having trouble doing anything BUT wallowing.
Counseling brings up so many things that you didn't even know were there. And for me, the very existence of those "unknowns", throw me into a panic. I think I'm pretty "self-aware" (but maybe just self-centered), and to discover all of these issues I didn't even know I had is, in a word, depressing. I am so much worse than I thought I was! Oh, the ugly self-righteousness.
I have a lot more to say about this. I want to defend myself so you don't think I've swallowed the pill of popular psychology and am presently going to start screaming about how I just need to learn how to love myself and then everything will be alright. But no. No, right now you just need to know that I am a messed-up sinner, trying to forgive other messed-up sinners (which is a task that seems at this point in my life, simply unachievable), without losing sight of God, responding in an unbiblical way to the hurt, or hindering the ministry to which God has called me.
These are good, hard days for me. I'm so glad I can talk through all of these issues with someone who is helping me to deal with them in a godly way and see myself the way God sees me. I'm thankful for God's Word which speaks truth into my life and helps me to crush the lies. I'm thankful for grace, and the work of Christ that makes that grace possible. And lastly, I am thankful that God justifies the ungodly. That is a truth that I've been clinging to lately. Because I am, but He does.
I'm sure there will be many other blog posts on this issue, and maybe through them God will even minister to someone. I can only hope. But in the end, it's not about me. I'm learning that in this counseling process, and believe me, it is often a rude awakening. So, will you pray for me? Pray that I grieve well. Pray that I heal well. Pray that I forgive well. And when I saw "well" I mean in a way that brings glory to Christ, because all of these things are hard. Hard.
So, there you have it, the promised blog post. Next, I think I'm supposed to tell you more about my glamorous missionary life. So much glamour, where to even begin? Well, in the words of that paragon of mental health, Scarlett O'Hara (I bet you were wondering when she was finally going to figure into this post), "I won't think about that now, I'll think about that tomorrow".
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Dude...
So I just looked over the list of blog topics I promised to share with you and I saw that one of them was the story of my abscessed molar.
Dude, that is so gross. What was I thinking?
But seriously, that tooth took me out for about ten days. I had to take my Christmas vacation days since I did nothing for a whole week but cry and take crazy strong pain medicine which did nothing to alleviate the pain, and so not only was my tooth killing me, my liver was probably in danger as well. It was so bad that I only got about one and a half hours of sleep each night. No fun. No fun at all.
One night I remember looking at my tear-stained face in the mirror and thinking "I hope I am never tortured for my faith" because I don't know how I'd respond, but judging by my tooth mishap, it would not be good.
Isn't the Lord merciful to uphold His children? I trust that if that situation every arises in my life, His grace will keep me faithful to the end, but it's scary to realize how weak the flesh really is.
Dude, it is so gross. The Flesh, I mean. Well, and my tooth too. Still really gross.
I don't have great pain management skills. I hate pain. I avoid it at all cost, and when it does come I usually do not handle it well. I remember one time my sister (the one who gave birth to a 9lb 15oz baby), spilled hot eyebrow wax on her thigh (where it promptly adhered to her flesh and wouldn't come off), and had to be driven to the emergency room by her big sister (me), where she went through an entire skin peeling procedure (it's as bad as it sounds) AWAKE! She has some crazy pain management skills (and also a crazy tolerance for pain medication because that doctor tried his best to knock her out, believe me. But that's another story).
Not me, man, not me. Give me the pain meds, and if that doesn't work, just go ahead and take a 2x4 to my head because I don't want to experience it.
I was going somewhere with this...
Oh yeah, I don't like pain. So why must I deal with it at all? The answer, of course, is that I live in a fallen world. I am a messed-up sinner, interacting with other messed-up sinners, all of us doing messed-up sinner things. That's why, when my tooth finally came out, when the problem was gone, and the pain stopped, I felt relieved, and free, and happy. Really, really happy.
Every day I deal with pain of some sort, maybe not that blasted tooth pain, and maybe not to that extreme, but pain nonetheless. And every day I feel some of that pain being deepened, and some of that pain being healed, but one day I will feel all of that pain gone, and every tear wiped away.
Good stuff in the midst of the gross stuff.
Dude, you know it's true, and aren't you glad? Me too.
Dude, that is so gross. What was I thinking?
But seriously, that tooth took me out for about ten days. I had to take my Christmas vacation days since I did nothing for a whole week but cry and take crazy strong pain medicine which did nothing to alleviate the pain, and so not only was my tooth killing me, my liver was probably in danger as well. It was so bad that I only got about one and a half hours of sleep each night. No fun. No fun at all.
One night I remember looking at my tear-stained face in the mirror and thinking "I hope I am never tortured for my faith" because I don't know how I'd respond, but judging by my tooth mishap, it would not be good.
Isn't the Lord merciful to uphold His children? I trust that if that situation every arises in my life, His grace will keep me faithful to the end, but it's scary to realize how weak the flesh really is.
Dude, it is so gross. The Flesh, I mean. Well, and my tooth too. Still really gross.
I don't have great pain management skills. I hate pain. I avoid it at all cost, and when it does come I usually do not handle it well. I remember one time my sister (the one who gave birth to a 9lb 15oz baby), spilled hot eyebrow wax on her thigh (where it promptly adhered to her flesh and wouldn't come off), and had to be driven to the emergency room by her big sister (me), where she went through an entire skin peeling procedure (it's as bad as it sounds) AWAKE! She has some crazy pain management skills (and also a crazy tolerance for pain medication because that doctor tried his best to knock her out, believe me. But that's another story).
Not me, man, not me. Give me the pain meds, and if that doesn't work, just go ahead and take a 2x4 to my head because I don't want to experience it.
I was going somewhere with this...
Oh yeah, I don't like pain. So why must I deal with it at all? The answer, of course, is that I live in a fallen world. I am a messed-up sinner, interacting with other messed-up sinners, all of us doing messed-up sinner things. That's why, when my tooth finally came out, when the problem was gone, and the pain stopped, I felt relieved, and free, and happy. Really, really happy.
Every day I deal with pain of some sort, maybe not that blasted tooth pain, and maybe not to that extreme, but pain nonetheless. And every day I feel some of that pain being deepened, and some of that pain being healed, but one day I will feel all of that pain gone, and every tear wiped away.
"Life is not a straight line leading from one blessing to the next and then finally to heaven. Life is a winding and troubled road. Switchback after switchback. And...God is for us in all these strange turns. God is not just showing up after the trouble and cleaning it up. He is plotting the course and managing the troubles with far-reaching purposes for our good and for the glory of Jesus Christ." — John Piper
Good stuff in the midst of the gross stuff.
Dude, you know it's true, and aren't you glad? Me too.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Baby Ivy
Well, obviously I do not have a true blogger's heart because I've totally left you all out in the cold, as far as updating regularly goes. But perhaps the unexpectedness of my blog posts are what really keep you coming back for more anyway.
I'm feeling a little retrospective tonight, a little melancholy, and I'm tempted to write a rambling post all about my feelings. How horrifying is that prospect? But before you move onto a more interesting, less angst-filled blog, let me assure that that is not going to happen, at least not tonight. Tonight I've decided to introduce you to one of my new favorite people, Ivy.
Ive is my niece, and she made her debut six weeks ago tomorrow. Her birth was a much anticipated, much lauded event. We were at the hospital almost twenty-four hours waiting for her to arrive and it was worth every boring waiting room minute.
At seven on Sunday morning we were awakened by a phone call that alerted us to the emanate arrival and so the mom and littlest sister, Maggie, went with Jessie and Rich to the hospital, and Sarah and I followed a few hours later loaded down with reinforcements in the form of breakfast sandwiches and coffee (Starbucks, obviously).
We spent all day waiting around for Ivy and then as the sun set and other families vacated the waiting room we began the really long wait, the wait until dawn. It was rough. I vaguely remember a trip to a 24-Hour McDonald's for chicken nuggets and fries since we were all starving by the wee hours of the morning. After food we were sleepy.
But we did not sleep because we were too busy watching this door for Grandma (or Mamie as she is currently being referred to) to bust through and tell us that Ivy was finally here.
But no such luck and so about 3am things really started to get interesting. After various rides on the elevator, a trip to the nursery to see all the babies, and exhausting all the reading material to be had in the waiting room, we got creative. We plugged in our various iPods and MP3 players and got our dance on.
Public dancing? No problem for the Hulme clan, we are well-versed in public spectacle, believe me. So, we danced.
And laughed.
And watched for the nurses so they didn't catch us...and then danced some more.
Finally a few hours later Mamie did bust through those doors and we gathered around her camera to see pictures of newborn Ivy. And then a little while later we got to actually meet her in person.
I've never been more proud of my sister in my life. Birth is an amazing, painful process, and as the British would say, she was a real brick. My brother-in-law was also fantastic, even standing up to a not-so-nice doctor in the final stages of labor. Well done both of you.
This is Ivy today.
Fantastic, right (mad props to my friend Melanie Andrich for taking the above photograph. Love it!)? She is a bundle of kissable cheeks and big sometimes blue, sometimes green eyes. It is a pleasure to hold her and pray for her and love her. I am thankful for this good gift to my family, and can't wait for all those "firsts" that come along with the first grand baby, and of course, that ultimate first, when she meets Jesus as her Savior. I've been praying for that day since before she was born and I will continue to pray that our good God will one day answer that prayer and draw her to Himself. Amazing love, how can it be?
Auntie Jeanne loves you, Ivy.
Well, so a bit of a tear-jerker, right? Ah yes, the best of both worlds. And, of course, that's why you read my blog anyway... :)
I'm feeling a little retrospective tonight, a little melancholy, and I'm tempted to write a rambling post all about my feelings. How horrifying is that prospect? But before you move onto a more interesting, less angst-filled blog, let me assure that that is not going to happen, at least not tonight. Tonight I've decided to introduce you to one of my new favorite people, Ivy.
Ive is my niece, and she made her debut six weeks ago tomorrow. Her birth was a much anticipated, much lauded event. We were at the hospital almost twenty-four hours waiting for her to arrive and it was worth every boring waiting room minute.
At seven on Sunday morning we were awakened by a phone call that alerted us to the emanate arrival and so the mom and littlest sister, Maggie, went with Jessie and Rich to the hospital, and Sarah and I followed a few hours later loaded down with reinforcements in the form of breakfast sandwiches and coffee (Starbucks, obviously).
We spent all day waiting around for Ivy and then as the sun set and other families vacated the waiting room we began the really long wait, the wait until dawn. It was rough. I vaguely remember a trip to a 24-Hour McDonald's for chicken nuggets and fries since we were all starving by the wee hours of the morning. After food we were sleepy.
But we did not sleep because we were too busy watching this door for Grandma (or Mamie as she is currently being referred to) to bust through and tell us that Ivy was finally here.
But no such luck and so about 3am things really started to get interesting. After various rides on the elevator, a trip to the nursery to see all the babies, and exhausting all the reading material to be had in the waiting room, we got creative. We plugged in our various iPods and MP3 players and got our dance on.
Public dancing? No problem for the Hulme clan, we are well-versed in public spectacle, believe me. So, we danced.
And laughed.
And watched for the nurses so they didn't catch us...and then danced some more.
Finally a few hours later Mamie did bust through those doors and we gathered around her camera to see pictures of newborn Ivy. And then a little while later we got to actually meet her in person.
I've never been more proud of my sister in my life. Birth is an amazing, painful process, and as the British would say, she was a real brick. My brother-in-law was also fantastic, even standing up to a not-so-nice doctor in the final stages of labor. Well done both of you.
This is Ivy today.
Fantastic, right (mad props to my friend Melanie Andrich for taking the above photograph. Love it!)? She is a bundle of kissable cheeks and big sometimes blue, sometimes green eyes. It is a pleasure to hold her and pray for her and love her. I am thankful for this good gift to my family, and can't wait for all those "firsts" that come along with the first grand baby, and of course, that ultimate first, when she meets Jesus as her Savior. I've been praying for that day since before she was born and I will continue to pray that our good God will one day answer that prayer and draw her to Himself. Amazing love, how can it be?
Auntie Jeanne loves you, Ivy.
Well, so a bit of a tear-jerker, right? Ah yes, the best of both worlds. And, of course, that's why you read my blog anyway... :)
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