Here's the Thing:

The Voices in My Head

Or, How Not to Ruin Your Holidays

                I had a house full of my beautiful family over the holiday.  My parents, my sister, for a brief evening my brother, and of course, my minis and the Officer all tucked nicely in the new mountain abode; plus the dogs: a 4-month-old Great Dane and a 5-year-old Yorkie were here to cavort with our 5-month-old Doberman.  It should be said that we are a raucous and space-filling crowd.  We are underfoot and piled atop one another.  We disagree more than we concede, we eat a great deal, and we love ferociously.  And thank God we have plans to return to one another in 3 short weeks.    

                Yet, as I sit by my fire, avoiding post-holiday cleaning necessitated by the requisite holiday decorating that the minis expect, I am closing out the season of thanks and rushing directly into the season of abject consumerism feeling a little empty. 

                Why? 

                To begin with, I have to admit that I have a bit of a Pinterest addiction.  And I spend entirely too much time on social media.  This is crucial because when I look at these sites, I am left feeling that my efforts are never enough.  Though I had pictured one and even planned it out, the nags in my head remind me that I didn’t have a perfectly set Thanksgiving table.  I spent so much time perusing cookbooks and grocery store aisles; yet, as my internal critics recall, my dishes were not foodie-worthy.  Besides, my Mom did a majority of the cooking, which my mental detractors are quick to point out was exactly what I didn’t want – I wanted to offer a holiday of respite.  Though because I have a very few recipes within my skill set, she had to spend her day prepping and overseeing, and basically, doing the meal.    One mustn’t forget [because my internal faultfinders won’t let me], that we never completed our thanks giving tree, nor did we  hike all the way down to the edge of the property, nor get Christmas up the day after Thanksgiving, nor fully score or finish the 2^nd Annual Thanksgiving Day Games. 

                So that when I listen to all the voices in my head, telling me (complete with Pinterest and Facebook evidence) how I failed Thanksgiving, I feel I am already beaten for Advent.

                Yet, as fun as Pinterest and Facebook can be, all that fluff and frill and striving isn’t really the point.  Instead, I need to silence denigrators in my head.  And I should be thankful that though we didn’t sit down to silver chargers and crystal goblets, we laughed so hard tears rolled down our cheeks.  The cooking wasn’t perfectly timed, nor did we have an exquisitely rendered playlist in the background; but again, we laughed so hard that we were doubled over in the kitchen.  The house wasn’t decorated with a rustic fall theme, but it was company clean when everyone got here.  Of course, we couldn’t keep it that way – we live in the mountains, there is always dirt or mud or snow being tracked in – but we sat by fires and talked about our histories and dreams and again, we laughed.  When I consider what these holiday gatherings are made of, in the years to come, that is what I will recall: the laughter that fills each.  It’s what I pray my kids remember about their holidays; not that every moment was perfectly choreographed, or sound-tracked, or thematically decorated, but that we played games, cuddled around movies, snuggled and ate too many cookies, acted like silly tourists.  And that we laughed.  So much. 

                Because that’s who I am.  I’m not a decorator.  Nor am I an epicurean or event planner.  I am a be-er, a moment-er.  And that’s what I want my holidays to be about: shared moments and laughter.  Thus I will remind my mental critics.  I am not, nor will I ever be, the consummate hostess.  I am never perfectly quoiffed, my meals aren’t going to make Pinterest rounds, and my home’s interior will never grace a magazine.  And that’s more than okay.  Because I pick laughter and family over those any day.           

                Thus I have been researching ways to bring wonder and joy and meaning to my spirit.  I have found ideas for returning Christmas to its both humble and glorious beginnings; ways to make this a season of worship, and service, and upside-down kingdom, and love, and peace, and most importantly:

Immanuel: God with us.

And I will share the ones that I have found below.  Others I will share as I include them in our holiday-ing.  But what you won’t find, because I am purposing not to worry about, is: when I get the tree up | what it looks like when I do | how beautifully each package under it is wrapped | if I’m giving the right teacher/bus driver/mail carrier gifts | if my kids are getting the present this year | perfect in appearance holiday treats | so-healthy cave people would eat them holiday treats | homemade gifts that were developed by the legions under a certain decorating maven … and others I’m sure that will come to me later.

     For now, because I need to say it out loud, here’s how I’m taking back our advent this year:

1.        I am fasting Pinterest.  Somehow, my holidays got along just fine without it for years.  I bet I can do it again.

2.       I am fasting Facebook.  I am sorry in advance to relatives who may actually care about pictures of my kids’ holiday-ings; e-mail me & I’ll set up an e-mail blast if you’re really concerned about missing out.  But if I’m going to keep myself from coveting the boastful lives of others, then I should count myself out of the problem entirely.  By not boasting either.  The only exceptions to this will be: posting my articles so my faithful readers know they’re up & keeping up with a beautiful group of which I am proud to be a part, the Teal Toes.
 

     3.        I am participating in 4 online advent devotions listed below, for my heart is desperate to follow the star:

http://www.d365.org/followingthestar/  [this is a youth/young adult devotional, but it is accessible and time friendly]

http://just4kidsmagazine.com/advent1.html [this is for young children -- for the minis & me]

http://denverseminary.uberflip.com/i/215736/14 [this one's for me.  Lots of very smart and caring people writing about their Jesus -- so beautiful!]

http://www.aholyexperience.com/2013/12/advent-devotionals-week-01-hope/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+HolyExperience+%28Holy+Experience%29 [Anne Voskamp -- if you don't know her, under what rock have you been hiding?]

4.       I am reviewing the Magnificat weekly, and praying it imprints itself on my heart.

Thank you, dear one, for being here to drown out the voices in my head.  I pray that yours are vanquished already, so that the only One you hear is the God who created you, body, mind, and soul. 

Why I'm not giving up social media...on purpose

The words of the reckless pierce like swords,

but the tongue of the wise brings healing.

~ Proverbs 12:18

 

Just the other night, I contemplated giving up social media.  For good.  Having just read a vicious thread on a public school system media page in which the adult participants accused one another of stupidity and racism, I lay on the couch listening to the Officer read aloud yet another thread among Christians regarding gun control.  As the thread progressed, it also became increasingly judgmental, malicious, and ended with scripture-hurling bullying.  I was disappointed; and pointedly reminded that only a few short months ago, I was engaged in exactly the same type of discourse – thus I was clearly in no place to judge anyone then or today.  But, having experienced what my actions brought about, I knew I didn’t want or need this kind of negativity to be a part of what I ingest daily. 

Upon hearing my proposition, the Officer reminded me that we primarily use our social media outlets to keep our out of town families in the loop with photos of our kids; so giving it up entirely wouldn’t really work.      

Thus, I decided to apply my chosen one word to my social media channels.  I needed to use these tools to bring God glory, to invite others to know Him more deeply, to share His love to a world in such desperate need of it.  In previous times, when prompted thusly by a pastor, I posted daily scriptures.  And while I believe that God does work in those posts¹, I didn’t want to force it.  I had to consider, also, that a good number of my friends aren’t interested in God’s Word at all.  Thus I assume my scripture posts would be skimmed over, if not hidden entirely, and would eliminate my ability to be someone who genuinely cares for them.

 

Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths,

but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.

 ~ Ephesians 4:29

 

It was then I remembered a two-line note someone sent me months ago, for the sole purpose of encouraging me.  This individual and I have yet to meet in person, yet s/he took the time to let me know I was heard and valued.  Even more recently, a friend with whom we’d been out of touch for a while, sent me a message encouraging me in a very specific way – at the exact time I needed it most.  His words buoyed my spirit and reminded me of the truth I was struggling to grasp at that moment.  There was the epiphany: overcome the malicious content of social media with good.  With encouragement, with grace, with love. 

 

To be purposeful with my social media this year means:

·         Engage in NO debates [see Thursday’s Tuesday's* post for the parameters of this one]

·         Post updates that are TRUE [not inflated, self-aggrandizing versions of truth], honoring to God and my family, and embody the spirit of GRACE

·         Use my time on these sites to encourage others through public praise or private encouragement.

 

Yet, because I so easily fall into the trap of cheering on those closest to me – the easiest ones to compliment – I have also set the following goals for purposeful encouragement using my social media:

·         Send PM’s to whomever is on my mind that day – I will be prayerfully considering who to contact each day, and trusting that the Holy Spirit’s timing [assuming that I’m really listening] is perfect

·         Write or tweet an encouragement or praise to one person daily

·         Do this for all my acquaintances by December 31, 2013.

 

Thus, if you’re my Facebook friend or if we’re connected on Twitter, you can expect an encouraging word from me…within the next 12 months. 

I can’t help but wonder: what if we stormed social media, not with our opinions or what we ate today or how many miles/reps we completed, but with love and encouragement and kindness?  What if we overwhelmed all the negativity and vanity and evil with grace and kindness and goodness?  What if we drown out the anger and malice with an out-pouring of love and gentleness?  What if we dedicated ourselves to purposefully encouraging one another, finding little ways to genuinely communicate that people have value and worth, are cared for, and are deeply and eternally loved? 

That would be an excellent use of social media – and an outlet I’d be eager to partake in.       

 

                                                                                                                                                                                    

1.        I can’t count the number of times someone else’s scripture was exactly what I needed the exact moment they posted it

*As it turns out, I'll have to only post once a week -- this semester is already shaping up to be an exciting busy and formative one.  Thanks.

 

Getting out of my own way

Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.  ~ Romans 12:1-2

I hate my alarm clock.

Understand that there is nothing wrong with this gadget: it works properly (oh, too properly), I can see it mocking me from across my bedroom (I can activate any snooze button in my sleep, hence the need to place it away from arm's reach), and I can certainly hear it shrieking in increasingly ridiculous decibels.  Perhaps, more than the apparatus itself, I hate waking.  Or at least waking before I'm ready. There was a time in very recent memory when I would bound out of bed (okay, not bound; but at least shuffle out of bed without malice) and head down to my coffee and quiet time.  Granted, that was in the summer months when the sun was peeking at me, just over the sill in my kitchen window; and my children could sleep until nine or so, as we had no commitments outside of the pool opening at eleven.  Even the recollection of those mornings draws out warmth and tugs a smile into the corner of my south.  But the dark, the winter, pulls at my resolve to rise early.  I dash across my floor, eagerly hitting the snooze button and take the few steps back into my bed, throwing the covers over me, silently  pleading, "five more minutes, Lord.  Just five more minutes."  And five becomes 30, then 60, until I have to get up lest the children be late to school.  Still dark, still cold; but now missing the delightful communion with my God.  I resolve to meet Him later in the day, which I generally do.  And I know that He is with me throughout my day.  His place is not scripted only in the times before my family rises.

Yet the paces of my day become flustered; my mode catch up, rather than soak up.  Quick fill-er-ups and stolen moments in the flow of the day; instead of separate, oasis in my life.

Upon meditation, I became aware of this and other tendencies in my flesh that are, though not pulling me away from God, certainly keeping me stagnant.  Pride.  Distraction.  Sloth.  [No, this isn't a prelude to one of my favorite movies.  It is merely the reason driving the next 40 days.] Which leads to me to the observation of a practice I thought I left far behind.  Though of late, I am becoming more respectful of the offices kept by our liturgical brethren.  This year, I feel the Lord is calling me to practice Lent.

Historically, Lent is observed for the 40 days leading up to Resurrection Sunday, during which observers recognize the temptation (ergo full humanity) of Christ in the desert prior to His Incarnate ministry.  It is a time where followers sacrifice something (e.g. "give up") for the prescribed period in observance of Christ's sacrifice of His place as God [leaving the Heavenly realm to live, caged in flesh, among the fallen on Earth].  Typically, a follower will abstain from something that is interfering with their relationship with God.  This is to prepare their hearts for the resurrection of Christ, the holiest day on the Christian calendar, the apex of history thus far.

I didn't exactly make my choices; more accurate would be to say that they were made for me as I  reflected upon my daily life.

Sadly, the first thing I think about when I wake is not the Lord, His plan for my day, nor even my delight in being His child.  It is: "what am I going to eat?"  Oh, how it pains me to write that.  Worse still, is the internal dialogue I have regarding the choices I've given myself.  Which will make me feel healthy and thin; which will be more satisfying, but send me spiraling into self-loathing when my jeans don't fit.  From that point, my mind is primed on its favorite topic: how I feel about, how I feel other people think about, how I feel about the way I think about how other people think about ~ how I look. Yikes.  Doesn't get more self-centered than that, does it?  Granted, I'm not one who looks at myself in the mirror and thinks everyone should be looking at me.  Quite the opposite.  I'd rather people didn't.  But that extreme is on the continuum of pride.  I spend a great deal of time thinking about how I look, and how other people see me.  Pride.

As I'm writing this, I'm having an internal dialogue with you [my imaginary reader] as to whether or not you like what you're reading so far.  You've interjected a few times.  I've made changes accordingly.  Have I mentioned that I have a desire for the approval of others?  With the painless anonymity of the internet, I can alert the world of my every thought and have anyone who is so moved respond.  Notice me.  Distract me.  My favorite social networking site has conveniently built this into my day.  And I have become a junkie.  I have a hard time getting on the computer to do anything without first getting my fix out of the way.  If I want to do a word search to compliment a study, I hop on the internet, but first check my page.  So this fixation feeds both my distraction and pride.

None of these activities/interests/practices are bad.  They are not sinful.  They are merely things that have crept into my life.  Things that if left unchecked, could settle into my life, could be habit-forming, could affect the way I engage in the praxis of the gospel. So, for the next 40 days, I'm giving up: sugar, my favorite social networking site, and my snooze button.  All three represent something in my flesh that is keeping me from realizing, rejoicing in, and proclaiming the miracle of the resurrection daily.  Without each, and in their place communion with and reliance upon my LORD, I will hopefully come out on the other side struggling less with pride, distraction, and sloth.  And delighting more in the sacrifice of Jesus, as He gave up His position in Heaven to walk among us.

I'll let you know how this all goes, imaginary reader.  If you'll hold me accountable.