Alive at Last

Hi. My name is Rachel. It's been more than three months since my last blog post. 

In case you're the type who likes photo updates...

Where were you for three months? you ask. I wish I had the answer. I shared with you that I've been dealing with postpartum depression since the birth of my daughter last April. It feels like the last year or so is a fog out of which I'm just now emerging. I'm not sure how my daughter is nine months old already; I'm also not sure how most parents live through their child's fourth year. My son has suddenly lost his mind. A million dollars to the person who finds it!

I also feel like I've been in a spiritual fog. God has had to carry me through the PPD, but all I could do is let him. I couldn't talk to him, couldn't acknowledge him. The last few blog posts were pretty much a miracle, considering the state of my soul. I must have been provided a few lucid moments for those. I still have some bad days, but most of them are good right now. Praise God for that!

I don't know if it's because I was so spiritually unresponsive or in spite of it, but I am going through a season right now that has never happened in my life:

I crave time with God.

I just want to snuggle up next to him all day long. I wake up singing praises, I go to bed singing praises. I long for my quiet time with him. I'm happy to get up early to spend time with him.

Me. Up early. I'm going to have to change the name of this blog, aren't I?

My husband has asked me how this started, since he'd love to be in this season, too. I have no answer for him. Perhaps my soul went without nourishment for so long, it's starving. That's kind of what it feels like. I don't recommend the starving part, but the hunger for his company is incredible!

So that's where I'm at right now. Perhaps I'll start writing more; perhaps not. Perhaps my readership has abandoned me entirely! Perhaps you're in a season right now that has you craving time with God more than anything (even more than blogging). If so, I'm grateful you understand my heart right now.

Have you ever gone through a season like this? Do you want to? If you don't have an answer to either of these, just tell me how you've been!

Moses and Me

My life has had some major upheaval lately. I mean apart from the baby and all of that. For the past seven years, I've been a part of the drama ministry at my church. I write scripts, I act, I direct. It's always been a lot of fun, and I'm good at it.

But.

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

I think God saw me getting too comfortable. I got the feeling that he wanted me to leave the safety of my church walls and participate in the local theater scene. Salt and light and all that. I prayed and prayed about it, and the answer became clearer and clearer. So, with great peace, I resigned from the drama ministry.

But.

God still wanted me serving inside the church walls. And I felt that he was pushing me toward the kids' ministry. Elementary school kids. My kids are four and under. I've taught junior high and high school kids. Why on earth would elementary school be the place for me?

A Short Play by Rachel

"Buts and Nopes"

Scene: RACHEL is in her bedroom, praying.

RACHEL:     So, I think I'm supposed to go help out in the kids' ministry.

GOD:            Yep.

RACHEL:     No, like the elementary kids' ministry.

GOD:            Yep.

RACHEL:     But—I don't wanna.

GOD:            Well, you should. I need you there.

RACHEL:     Naw, not me. I don't have anything to offer!

GOD:            Sure you do. Don't I know you better than anyone? It'll work.

RACHEL:     But maybe you forgot that I don't really work with kids this age. 

GOD:            Maybe you forgot that I'm God. If The Almighty is asking you to do something, maybe you should—I don't know—stop arguing? Just do it.

RACHEL:     Ha! God knows what Nike is!

GOD:            I love your sense of humor, Rachel! Your obstinance is something else, though...

RACHEL:     I'm made in your image, you know.

GOD:            And I'm a great listener. You, not so much.

RACHEL:     Ha! But I can't...

GOD:            Rachel. Stop making excuses. Just go.

RACHEL:     Fine. But if I crash and burn, I'm holding you responsible!

GOD:            Fine! But you won't. Trust me.

END SCENE.

I felt a little like Moses. Not the parting-of-the-Red-Sea, confident Moses. The I-don't-wanna Moses. When God first asked him to go back to Egypt, Moses came up with every excuse in the book. 

Moses said to the Lord, “Pardon your servant, Lord. I have never been eloquent, neither in the past nor since you have spoken to your servant. I am slow of speech and tongue.”

The Lord said to him, “Who gave human beings their mouths? Who makes them deaf or mute? Who gives them sight or makes them blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say.”

But Moses said, “Pardon your servant, Lord. Please send someone else.” - Genesis 3: 10-13

Moses made no less than five arguments against doing what God asked of him. I'm pretty sure I made at least that many. But I went. And you know what?

It was exactly where I needed to be.

Turns out that the director of the children's ministry had been praying for strong leaders last week, so my e-mail to him was an answer to his prayers. Isn't that cool? He got another e-mail last week, too, and when he introduced me to the other volunteer, it turned out to be a friend from my small group! Small world, huh? By the time I finished on Sunday, I knew it was the perfect place for me. Not only did I feel useful, but I really enjoyed the kids. So God was right. Chalk another one up for The Almighty!

It was really hard to step out in faith, especially somewhere I wasn't comfortable. But since these decisions were made, I've felt joy and peace like I've never had before. Obedience has its own rewards. I'll take 'em!

Do you find it difficult to be obedient and step out in faith? What are the rewards?

I Hate My Love Language

So there's this book by Gary Chapman called The Five Love Languages. It's about the ways we prefer to give and receive love and how to give others love in the way they best receive it. The five love languages are Quality Time, Words of Affirmation, Acts of Service, Physical Touch, and Receiving Gifts.

When my husband and I first got married, I thought my love language was Quality Time, and maybe Words of Affirmation was up there, too. You know what my language really is?

NOW I feel loved!

Receiving Gifts.

Yes, I'll admit to what feels like the most shallow of the love languages. I love getting gifts. And since Friday was my birthday, I knew my husband would get me a great gift! I thought it might be some earrings to match a garnet ring I got at an antique show in the spring—and it was!

And they were awful. Apart from them not matching the ring at all, they weren't even my style. Despite my reputation for being a good actress, I can't seem to mask disappointment in opening a gift. Curses!

Now, my husband is a very thoughtful gift-giver. He listens and tucks away in his brain things I've said or things he thinks I'll like. And that works at Christmas, but he's terrible with my birthday for some reason. Maybe he tries too hard at my birthday? I don't know. But I nearly let it ruin my day on Friday! Mostly out of guilt that I didn't like his present—yet again. He told me not to feel that way and that he'd rather know so we can get something I like and will actually use. Still. I felt terrible.

I spent the weekend thinking about why Receiving Gifts is my love language. When I was young, money was tight, but I always got at least one great gift at Christmas. Not necessarily the most expensive thing, but something I really wanted. I also loved it when my dad surprised me on Sweetest Day with a rose or something. When I got to high school, I dated my best friend for ten seconds, and we broke up right before Christmas. He got me a bath set in some nasty scent—freesia, I think. Really? My best friend can't think of something more unique to me than a bath set? I really don't like getting bath things. It's like, "Oh, you're a girl. You must like to bathe and smell clean. Here you go!" Blecch.

So maybe I just want the thoughtfulness required in gift-giving. Or because we didn't have tons of money growing up, maybe someone splurging on a gift for me is just exciting. Whatever the reason, that's my love language.

And I hate it.

I don't like feeling disappointed when I get what I perceive to be a sub-par gift. I don't like that my husband also has to feel disappointed when he gets me a gift he's excited to give me and it's not what I wanted. I don't like feeling materialistic!

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God. - Ephesians 2:8

But you know what? I'm made in God's image. God loves gifts—giving them and receiving them. He's given us spiritual gifts to develop and use. He gives us blessings, both tangible and intangible. He's given us grace, which is pretty much the best gift he could give us. Our praise and worship are our gifts to him because we love him so much. We also give him our lives and our obedience.

And, being made in his image, I give at least as many gifts as I receive—probably more. Just like God. And is God disappointed in our gifts sometimes? Probably. When we don't put time or effort into them and simply give him our leftovers, I'm sure he's a bit disappointed. He wants our best gifts, just like I want someone's best effort. We all have something different to offer, but we can all offer our best. And then God will give us his best in return. And that's pretty awesome.

Hmm. Maybe I can live with this love language after all.

What's your love language? How is that language a reflection of God?

The Birthday Girl

Today is my birthday. I generally enjoy my birthday. I wake up feeling excited about the day ahead and the surprises in store for me. I know I get to spend the evening with my husband and our friends at one of my favorite places (although I'm not permitted to know all the details), so I'm looking forward to that.

But today I woke up feeling profoundly grateful. As I look back over the past 33 years (yep, I'm solidly in my 30s now!), I can see God's hand moving in my life at every point along the way. I'm incredibly blessed. My little family is beyond anything I could have imagined. Makes me glad that God is more creative than I am!

At this moment, I am more than content—I'm happy. I know happy doesn't always last—and that's OK—but I'm going to enjoy it in this moment.

I couldn't help but spend my waking moments praising God and thanking him for my life. Even though there's been plenty of good and plenty of bad, I know he was there all along. I love that he's so caring and interested in our lives. He loves us so much, and I woke up feeling just how much he loves me. It was kind of like a big hug from God.

And that's an amazing birthday gift.

Little Miss Can't Be Wrong

Yesterday, my son said to me, "Mama, you are silly all the day long." I replied, "Is that OK? Do you not want me to be silly?" "Of course you can be silly," he said.

Well, I was probably going to stay silly whether he gave me permission or not. Silliness is a trait of mine that is quite essential to my personality, I think.

But what traits are not essential to my personality? Quite a few, surprisingly. Like sarcasm. I find that, while funny sometimes, sarcasm is really unnecessary. It's mostly used to make people feel bad, or it's used to make myself feel smart at someone else's expense. I've tried to cut down on the amount of sarcasm I use in the past few years, but it's hard. I mean, in fifth grade, my teacher called me the Queen of Sarcasm. Fifth grade. That's a lot of unlearning to do.

Sometimes it's hard to weed out which aspects of our personalities need to change and which ones are central to our being. Traits are formed over a lifetime. Some we begin when we're young, some we begin when we get older and life gets busy or complicated.

Don't I look smug? This picture says,
"I dare you to play Jeopardy with me."

One trait that I wish, wish, wish I could get under control is my know-it-all-ness. I am an insufferable know-it-all sometimes. While growing up, I was mainly noticed for my intellect. I was a very early reader, great in school. I was nothing if not smart. I wasn't pretty, I wasn't talented. I was smart. That seemed to be all I had, according to most of the adults in my life. I know I'm more than that now, but I still cling to that label. I want to be the first to answer, have the best answer, and prove all others wrong. And really rub it in. I even had an advice column in college called "Miss Know-it-All." The worst part is that I can hear myself acting this way, and it's like a freight train. I can't stop it. I'm already in the middle of an obnoxious sentence, and I clearly can't stop mid-sentence and say, "Pardon me. I must stop this sentence before I reveal that I'm an insufferable know-it-all." Ugh. I feel that would only make things worse.

I know this behavior is annoying. It doesn't make any friends, it doesn't improve my life in any tangible way. Sometimes it makes me feel self-conscious or hesitant to participate in discussions. Besides, I know the truth: there is more to me than my intellect. I'm funny, I'm talented, I'm not Quasimodo. I have more to offer than gray matter. And God knows that. If my life is supposed to point to Him in all I do, how does a trait like that point to him?

It doesn't. It points to me.

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 12:2

Sarcasm points to me. Being a know-it-all points to me. Pride, laziness, low self-esteem. Those traits all point to me, not to God. That's an easy way to decide whether a trait should be deleted. And I seem to need a lot of revisions, so that calls for a ton of prayer. Some of these are so embedded in me, there's no way I can get rid of them on my own. It also requires a great deal of humility on my part, as it appears I am not perfect.

I know. I'm just as shocked as you are.

But I know that when these traits are transformed into something God can use, he'll use me. Like crazy, he'll use me. I'm much more useful to him when I become who he made me to be. And that requires giving up the traits that only point to me and replace them with traits that point to him.

What traits point to you, and what steps are you taking to make them point to God?