The Canvas

I fondly yet a little embarrassed remember after school days when I was about 12 years old. Immediately upon leaving school, I would go to the library and check out a book. I would then head to a local bodega and purchase a Diet Pepsi and pork rinds. I’m pretty sure I was almost a complete vegetarian at that time, and I don’t think I knew what pork rinds were until many years later. This is way before I began reading the ingredients of most everything I ate. Those who know me best know about my aversion to BHT and high fructose corn syrup. Oh, and all things pork. But, I didn’t know pork rinds came from pork. I must have thought they were like buffalo wings.

Comfortably on the stoop with my Pepsi, pork rinds, and book, I would sit relaxing. If I read something interesting, I would make a note of it on my…jeans. I had one pair and they were my journal or perhaps more like a canvas as they kind of became a work of art. I was classy though, and only wrote on the front of the jeans. I mean, it’s tacky to have writing on the back, right? That and I didn’t reach the back.

I remember these jeans because they “grew with me”, not that there was much to me at the time. They went from full length jeans to crop to capris. At some point I must have come across another pair as an upgrade. In that transition, though I don’t remember it, my other jeans disappeared.

Though I don’t remember how I lost them, I do remember the devastation. These jeans had been through so much with me (and on me). So much of my heart was poured via black magic marker on them. Many times, I would sit there and reread what was written on them. I felt secure with them and in them. But, like so many things we outgrow, I needed to let them go to make space for something better.

Those jeans are very representative of life during those years. The canvas of my life had so much already covering it there was little to no room for anything new. And on a canvas, one can only use the front! I needed an upgrade on that too and I am thankful that I came across it. More precisely, I faced the Cross and was given a new canvas. Then the choice of what would go on this canvas – the canvas of my heart and mind began.

I won’t add quotes or song lyrics at this time. My favorite volumes are still non-fiction. Your life, my life are non-fiction. He wants to write in them. He wants to paint on the canvas of our lives.  I can only invite you to let Him. I can only tell you the joy of growing with Him and in Him brings. You have to make a choice on what you want to go on your canvas. Others will see what’s on it. All I can say is that the upgrade is worth your while!

“F” Words

Those who know me well know I do not like “F” words. There are certain ones that make me very uncomfortable when I hear them, to the point I tell the offending person (maybe not right at that moment but in the near future) “I do not like the “F” word”. For others, I question why it’s even necessary to use them.

According to all things Google, the English language has approximately 1,025,110 words.  On average, and although very difficult to document (no pun intended), a native English speaker may know and/or use between 35,000 to 50,000 words out of those over a million available.

That is not to say it’s necessary to use every word imaginable. George Orwell gives great advice when he said “Never use a long word where a short one will do” and “Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.”

As Blaise Pascal said “Words differently arranged have a different meaning, and meanings differently arranged have a different effect.” I think Pascal could have used Orwell’s advice; nonetheless, words have meaning!

Because words have meaning, the overuse or misuse of these particular “F” words – failure, fear, and frantic -- really bothers me.  I hope you didn’t think I was speaking of other kinds of “F” words. It bothers me because sometimes, they should have no space in our brains the way they do, and even worse, take hold in our hearts in such a way that they skew our perspective.

Take failure. Why all the, as Cinci would say, hatorade towards it? I recently heard a lecture quoting NASA Administrator Charles Bolden regarding failure. He says “Risk intolerance is a guarantee of failure to accomplish anything of significance.”  I really love that! We fail when we refuse to try but unless we try, what do we accomplish? Another different perspective on failure is these words by Henry Ford:"Failure is an opportunity to begin again, this time more intelligently." It’s okay to fail as long as we learn and move forward. A good Bible verse to remember is:

“For the righteous falls seven times and rises again, but the wicked stumble in times of calamity.” - Proverbs 24:16 (ESV)

Then there is fear. In my personal experience, this one is tied closely to failure. I don't know about you, but I am sometimes afraid of failing at that which is important to me. I have feared not being a good enough mom, a good enough wife, a good enough Christian, a good enough worker, a good enough friend...basically, name a relationship, I have feared that my inadequacies may ruin them. I appreciate the wordsmithing of Andrew Peterson in the song "Just as I am". He says:

All of my life I've held on to this fear

These thistles and vines, ensnare and entwine

What flowers appeared

It's the fear that I'll fall one too many times

It's the fear that His love is no better than mine

And I have feared especially the last part. However, through faith I can believe that is not the mindset Jesus wants for me. 2 Timothy 1:7 (NKJV) says:

“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.”

And Isaiah 41:10 affirms:

“Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

The chorus to the song quoted above says:

Just as I am and just as I was

Just as I will be He loves me, He does

He showed me the day that

He shed His own blood

He loves me, oh, He loves me, He does

I can believe this and not fear my shortcomings because of His sacrifice for me! And, you can too because of His sacrifice and love for you too!

Frantic is a little different. I don’t think I use the word as much as living it at times. Am I so hurried that the activity steals my peace? Am I so frenzied and full of worry about trivial things I cannot pause to reflect on His goodness? Do I let #firstworldproblems steal my joy? I know that is not how I should think and certainly not the way I should live.

From John 16:33 to Isaiah 26:3 to Psalm 27 to Matthew 6:31-34 to Psalm 46 to John 14:27 and more – the message is clear. He’s got this!

And since He’s got this, we can heed the advice of Philippians 4:6-7:

“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.”

He will guard our hearts and minds and replace those “F” words. He will give us flawless instead of failure, faith instead of fear, fulfilled instead of frantic.

What’s your favorite positive “F” word?

Scrubbing Bubbles

I don’t know if like me you are fascinated with those little guys/gals zooming around, so happily clearing all sorts of grime, scum, dirt and entirely gross bathroom fixtures. It’s magical thinking about their dedication and precision, making such a task not only enjoyable, but even delightful!

The thought of how they work is whimsical, but the reality of how much they may not makes me sad. It makes me sad because I so want to believe it then, alas, I still have to get the scrubber for the ring around the tub. Even worse is the other cleaner that “guarantees” no scrubbing and deceitfully turns from blue to white when “ready” to be wiped. The problem is that when the grime, scum, dirt and other gross stuff is way beyond the surface, a simple “wiping” does not work.

Likewise, it’s the same when cleaning the closets of my heart. Wiping my heart just on the outside doesn’t work. It’s worse still when I am constantly trying to use rags filthy with unrighteousness (Isaiah 64:6). For real, consistent, and long-lasting cleansing, I can’t use my own rag. I need something more powerful. I can come close to appearing to those around me as “sanitized” (Matthew 23:27-28) through my behavioral changes, but the reality is different. And even if I am successful in appearing that way, what I truly need is to be sanctified. I need to be cleansed from the inside out. And for that, I need to be covered in red.

In ways I can’t explain with logic, and unlike those household cleaners that turn from blue to white when “ready”, the blood that covers me does indeed turn my unrighteousness from red to white if I accept it. There is a step we can’t skip. We respond to His invitation in acceptance, and we let Him clean it all up. We let Him live in us and through us daily. This is the promise in Isaiah 1:18 (ESV):

“Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool.”

And this is true regardless of our past!

“…but you were washed, but you were sanctified, but you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and in the Spirit of our God.”-  I Corinthians 6:11(NASB)

“But when the kindness of God our Savior and His love for mankind appeared, He saved us, not on the basis of deeds which we have done in righteousness, but according to His mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewing by the Holy Spirit, whom He poured out upon us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that being justified by His grace we would be made heirs according to the hope of eternal life.” – Titus 3:4-7

It isn’t magic, it is love and sacrifice. And if you are discouraged because of those layers of grime, scum, dirt and entirely gross sinful things from years past, take heart! Like Charles Spurgeon you can say:

 “I have a great need for Christ and I have a Great Christ for my need.”

My Cup Runneth Over...But with what?

Have you ever heard the story of the old farmer and his son? The farmer had worked in the fields for many years. One day his horse ran away. When the neighbors heard the news, they came to find out what happened. I don’t know if they were genuinely concerned or just curious. They wanted to comfort the farmer and said, "Such bad luck,” The farmer replied, "Who knows; we shall see."  

The next morning, the horse returned, bringing with him three other wild horses. The neighbors again heard the news (I don’t even think they learned about this through Facebook or Twitter but they came fast!). "How wonderful," the neighbors said. "Who knows; we shall see." once again replied the old man.

The day after, the farmer’s son tried to ride one of the wild horses. He was thrown from the horse and broke his leg. The neighbors came over again to offer their sympathy on their seemingly continuing bad luck. What do you think the farmer replied? You are correct! He replied, "Who knows; we shall see."

A few days later, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Since the son's leg was broken, the son was not drafted. The neighbors attempted to celebrate with the farmer given how things turned out. The response? "Who knows; we shall see." said the farmer.

When we’ve had our fill of life circumstances, we are usually quick to assume they are either blessings or trials. At least I do. Even in the old “is the glass half full or half empty?” question, we are tasked with making the decision one way or another. What would happen if instead we replied, “Who knows; we shall see.”? What would happen if we allowed some time to determine God’s response to a particular situation and for Him to let us know His will throughout it?

As I think of the neighbors’ well-meaning assumptions about the various circumstances the farmer and his son endured, I think about how I assume blessings or trials on the “cups” of which other people must partake. This is especially true when thinking about the life paths of my own children and the decisions they must make. As I observe their “cup”, full of opportunity and blessing, I often ignore that to them, the cup is full of unknowns and bittersweet options. Their “cups runneth over” but I, even as a mom, cannot say with certainty with what.

I may be thinking their experience should be like David’s in Psalm 23:5 when David’s cup of blessings and good things overflows, when in their reality, the experience is more like Jesus’ experience asking the Father “if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me” like we see in Matthew 26:39 and Luke 22:42.

I am learning that I don’t always know best, but we can have assurance that “in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28 NIV). I am also confident that, no matter what the cup is filled with, as we remain in God’s will He is faithful in providing the best options and outcomes, so that we can endure any challenge (my paraphrase of I Corinthians 10:13).

In the midst of any situation, I can say outwardly “Who knows; we shall see?”  Inwardly however, I can stand confident knowing He already knows and He has the best solution with our best interest in mind.

Putting Away Childish Things

Some years ago, a friend of mine gave me some bright and colorful plush toy spider monkeys. They were white with bright pink or bright purple. I thought they were super cute and, since they had long arms, I promptly got on my bed, on my tippy toes and hung all three of them on my ceiling fan because, that is what a mid-30s woman does with plush toy monkeys. It seemed a reasonable way to display them.

I quite enjoyed turning on the ceiling fan and watching them become flying monkeys! I would repeat this process multiple times a day. I reasoned that we can all be like children from time to time especially when you don’t share your room with another adult.  I had these monkeys (and followed my fun process) for about two years, then circumstances changed.

It was a good change. It was a fantastic change! It was even better than watching plush toy spider monkeys flying off my ceiling fan. It was love…a marriage proposal…a wedding…and moving.

I realized that the monkeys should not go with me when I married and moved in with my husband. For some reason, it seemed silly to take them with me since a) I don’t have small children, b) we wouldn’t have a ceiling fan, and c) I was pretty sure my husband would not appreciate them as much as I did. I can be perceptive like that. Because of my greater love for my husband than the fascination I had with these monkeys, I gave them to the friend who gave them to me. That seemed reasonable since, by this time, said friend had a toddler. A toddler would appreciate these monkeys for sure.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about how proud I was with myself for being able to give up my monkeys. It was a process for me to be okay with giving them up. One would think it should have been an obvious and easy decision but for me, it was a struggle as I did not want to feel as if I was “giving up who I am”. I was determined I wouldn’t do this for anyone, no matter how much I loved them. Yet because of love, this particular decision was easy.

More recently, I have also been thinking about other childish things I have been very unwilling to give up or how in many ways, I have been unwilling to mature. I have stubbornly said to myself “I am not giving up who I am” no matter how much I love someone and with that thought, I realized how very shallow my love is for others.

1 Corinthians 13 is knowns as “The Love Chapter”. It is often read at weddings. Because of its (in my opinion) overuse, I had developed a disdain for this chapter. I have rolled my eyes often when I’ve heard it. I forbade the officiant of our wedding to even think of quoting from this chapter. I now believe that, deep inside, I felt “called out” every time I heard it. Listening to this chapter reminds me how little I know how to love and how unlovable and unreasonable I can be.

Most days, I can be eloquent, knowledgeable, unwavering, hard-working, and generous. On those same days I can be inpatient, envious, arrogant, egocentric, rude, and/or easily offended. Many days I don’t want to think the best in people, not hoping for the best in circumstances or motives, especially relating to those I love. Certainly I don’t feel like enduring their shortcomings. And, because of my lack of true love for them, in my mind, they seem to return the favor.

Not “giving up who I am” often translates for me as an innate ability to hold grudges. The Hooligans have often told me I can hold a grudge like nobody’s business. I have been proud of that as if I received a medal.

This particular trait is in stark contrast with 1 Corinthians 13. This is probably another reason I have not appreciated this chapter as much as I should. “…bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” in verse seven has been particularly challenging lately. It has challenged me to grow up. It is my challenge to continually put away the childish (self-centered) things that keep me from loving like Him. Monkeys are cute unless they are slinging vile at you! My grudge-holding abilities are like that. It’s not attractive.

In contrast to how I am, He suffers long and is kind; He does not envy. Never has He sought things for Himself and no matter how I behave, He is never provoked to despise me. He thinks great plans for me, and doesn’t quite like when I am unjust. When I am honest with myself and with Him, He rejoices! He bears all with me, believes in me, provides hope, and endures with me.

“Giving up who I am” – giving up childish things - provides the room so that I can be like Him not in part, but entirely and the true version of who I should be.

No monkeying around necessary or unreasonably holding grudges for that matter.

The Castle

When My Little Chicken was just that (about four years old), he wanted a medieval castle more than anything in the world, including tomatoes. It should almost go without saying, but I’ll say it anyway, since I’ve been known from time to time to state the obvious, that every four year old little boy wanted the particular castle for Christmas, except I didn’t know it at the time. I love My Little Chicken a lot and so there was nothing that I wanted to give him more than that castle.

I’m typically a planner (you can refer to http://pehrtinent.blogspot.com/2011/06/planny-planny.html) for an example) but somehow, I underestimated what it would take to find one of these castles. Surely, I thought, “how hard could it be”! From about the beginning of November to December 24th I searched high, I searched low, I searched nigh, I searched all…and nothing. Now, this is before the interwebs so shopping online was not possible which is probably a good thing since I would have had to give my right arm to the online bid poster for this castle.

I got tired of driving around various interstates during the winter in the Northeast to find this castle. Oh, did I mention I was six months along with Muscles? Then, I got smart! On Christmas Eve, I began calling all the stores in the immediate proximity of my workplace to see if they had the castle. Voila, I found one and begged the clerk to “hold it for me” promising that I would be there right away. She said she would hold it 15 minutes. I frantically wobbled to my supervisor and asked if I could leave to get this castle (I don’t think I spoke intelligibly but we’d worked together long enough for him to know “how I get” plus, who messes with a pregnant woman, right???).

It was snowing A LOT this day and I remember driving as fast as I could and as cautiously as I could to Caldor’s to get the castle…I arrived just in time to purchase the monstrosity. Now, I’m already short and VERY round. The box was about 3’ x. I don’t really know how I carried it to the car. I was successful and I just knew My Little Chicken would be thrilled with his gift.

My Little Chicken opened his gift on Christmas morning and played with it the whole day…then no more! I was pretty disgusted with him. He wanted that castle more than anything in the world including tomatoes. My Little Chicken LOVES tomatoes. How could he lose interest so quickly?

The answer lies in human nature, I imagine. We seem to constantly be chasing for the bigger, better, newer and not fully satisfied or content with the blessings we have. Now, he was only four and he has grown up to be a wonderful young man since then. But sometimes I think of how I am and how I perhaps haven’t grown up as much as I should and continue (sometimes) chasing after the wind and not appreciating the sacrifice of my Heavenly Father who searches high, searches low, searches nigh; searches for all.

God sent His Son – Christmas reminds us of this. Additionally, He, the Son, after completing His task here on earth, went to prepare a place for us so that where He is, we can also be. He’s prepared the best “castles” ever for us and I don’t think we’ll bore quickly of them. More importantly, though, we should want to be in His presence more than longing for the castle…I guess we should want Him as much as My Little Chicken likes tomatoes :-).

Getting it Straight

I shall have a Sophia Petrillo channeling moment – picture this, February 8, 2012. Southeast, United States. It is my birthday. I am opening presents at Triple M’s house (soon to be “our” house). On this day, he has already sent a gorgeous flower arrangement with a little teddy bear hanging from the vase to my job. Totally adorable! I am spoiled, I know. He wanted me to open the presents before we went out for my birthday dinner. I first opened the cards. His parents sent me a card that made me boo hoo in a good way, and then I opened his card. That was followed by hugs for him.

The first present I opened was purportedly from “The Hooligans” I say purportedly because they’ve never, ever purchased a birthday present for me previously and they have no money. It was a beautiful metal picture frame with the word “LOVE” above the actual frame and one of my favorite pictures of Triple M and me in it! This is now safely placed above my credenza at work. Great! Fantastic! The second present was a…flat iron.

Now, don’t go thinking, “A flat iron. What kind of present is a flat iron?” I actually asked for a flat iron. Just the day before, I had forwarded a Groupon offer for a specific flat iron at a great price to Triple M for a “hint, hint”. However, I neglected to specifically specify that I wanted that specific one and only that one. The look on my face was not one of joy or delight, I am sure, and for that, I am sorry.

I inspected the flat iron, as I knew he put a lot of effort into purchasing this for me. He didn’t grow up with sisters and he shaves his head so this flat iron arena is all new for him. I would imagine he has not visited that section of the store in many, many years, if ever. So for that, kudos, Triple M! As I inspected the iron I realized it has the round edging instead of squared!!! Why the excitement? Well, I’d been wanting a 1” curling iron and I knew this would do the trick! I tried it this morning, and VOILA!

I don’t know that there is a great lesson or moral to this story except perhaps to specifically specify what you want and/or need if you want to keep it straight! I’ll keep that in mind in the future…the future that continues…forever!