Poopy Jesus

As a relatively new mom, I've come to think about Christmas very differently. I've come to be especially grateful for the baby Jesus - and all the intimacy, love, and poopy approachability that He represents. Something about the intimate day-in, day-out experience of caring for a poopy, drooly, utterly dependent (yet irresistably precious) newborn brings the incarnation home to me in a new way. I've started to realize the full extent to which God chose downward mobility, chose to leave all the privilege and power He was entitled to and instead placed himself intentionally in a situation of weakness and suffering - for the sake of His love for us. I was reading this morning from Henri Nouwen's book, "Finding My Way Home," and came across this passage from his essay on "The Path of Powerlessness." He captures this idea beautifully:

"People with power do not invite intimacy. We fear people with power. They can control us and force us to do what we don't want to do. We look up to people with power. They have what we do not have and can give or refuse to give, according to their will. We envy people with power. They can afford to go where we cannot go and do what we cannot do. But God's power is something entirely opposite. God does not want us to be afraid, distant, or envious. God wants to come close, very close, so close that we can rest in the intimacy of God as children in their mother's arms.

"Therefore God became a little baby. Who can be afraid of a little baby? A tiny little baby is completely dependent on its parents, nurses, and caregivers. Yes, God wanted to become so powerless as to be unable to eat or drink, walk or talk, play or work without many people's help. Yes, God became dependent on human beings to grow up and live among us and proclaim the good news. Yes, indeed, God chose to become so powerless that the realization of God's own mission among us became completely dependent on us. How can we fear a baby we rock in our arms, how can we look up to a baby that is so little and fragile, how can we be envious of a baby who only smiles at us in response to our tenderness? That's the mystery of the incarnation. God became human, in no way different from other human beings, to break through the walls of power in total weakness. That's the story of Jesus."

Indeed. Why would God ever choose this weak, powerless, and poopy way to come into the world, except for our sake? He has nothing at all to gain from it, except relationship with us. And He has no reason to even be interested in relationship with us, except that because of His nature, He loves us. And that love was enough to compel Him to come so far into our experience as to need His diapers changed by us. It really is profound. Sometimes I think about this when I change Annabel's diapers, to help that act seem more meaningful and less smelly than it really is. Jesus, Lord of all creation, put himself in her position so that we could know Him and relate to Him. And it worked - picturing baby Jesus on a changing table does suddenly make Him a lot more approachable. But I really am amazed that He chose to come so far. There is nothing we've done to deserve that kind of love - the willingness to go from a heavenly (poop-free) existence to being in diapers, just so that we could know Him, connect with Him. It's compelling. This Christmas I'm thanking God not so much for the sacrifice of dying on the cross, but for the sacrifice of becoming human in the first place.

Mr. Grumpy

Today is a hard day. I got up for my 8:15 class (after 30 minutes of laying in bed not wanting to get up) and the first words out of my mouth were, "I hate life." What I really meant was, "I hate waking up," but the experience of waking up was so all-encompassing that it felt like my entire life. Blech.

About 2 1/2 seconds after saying that, I started to feel guilty. Guilty because of my attitude, and because I know Nate heard me, and because I know how hard it is on him when I'm grumpy, and because I know one of his concerns about these two weeks without Annabel involves me waking up grumpy. (When she's the first thing I see in the morning, I'm a much happier human being.)
So then, not only did I hate life, but I felt guilty about it. And then, I started thinking about all of the reasons to be grumpy and all the things that are burdening me right now. And then, of course, I continued to feel guilty about my bad attitude. All I could do in this situation was 1. Ask God for mercy on my wretched soul and 2. Do everything possible to avoid interacting with Nate, so as not to say something that I would have to apologize for later.
I'm sitting in class now, 3 hours later, and not necessarily doing much better. I think I've managed to let go of the guilt thing, knowing that God's grace is big enough for my grumpiness and being encouraged that I didn't actually do anything overtly negative toward Nate (except subject him to my overall grumpy presence). However, the grumpiness itself, I'm not sure about yet. I guess I'll find out once I get out of class.
I'm not sure why I am posting about this not-very-encouraging state, but I guess it has something to do with being real, and also wanting an avenue to vent my grumpies without actually taking it out on someone. (I actually think I'm already starting to feel better.)

Roots

It's my birthday today. It's also the day before Thanksgiving. I'm sitting in a bustling Caribou Coffee in Burnsville, Minnesota, drinking the most amazing mocha I have ever tasted. (Chunks of dark chocolate, melted into coffee. Heaven.) As I sit here blogging, Nate sits across from me with a textbook open in front of him that he is paying no attention to because he can't resist the temptation of his newly acquired internet phone. We came here to do homework, but y'all can see how well that plan is going.

26. !!! I should officially begin emerging from my quarter-life crisis this year. While all those 50ish-year-olds are feeling discontent with all the things that have long since been settled in their lives, all of us 25ish-year-olds are struggling to have ANYTHING be settled. We're in transition, we're moving, we're figuring out who we are and want to be and what exactly to do with life. We're figuring out who our past families were and who our future families are going to be. There's so much that's in flux.

This year does feel like it has the potential to yield something like settledness, or at least the beginnings of it (though considering the adventurer I married, I'm not holding my breath on that). There's plans for our most permanent move yet, for a committed church home, and for life in only one geographic location for the foreseeable future. There's a growing possibility of roots.



Awhile ago Nate made me a promise that he would never uproot me unless the Lord was clearly leading us both in a specific direction. It was his way of trying to make it possible for me to relax, to feel a sense of safety with him and in whatever life we share - to feel the freedom to put down some roots, without the fear of having them ripped up without warning. It's not that he would make a decision like that without me, but his saying that allowed me to listen to all of his scheming and dreaming without feeling anxiety and fear rise like a water table in my heart. It allowed me to breathe, to rest, to know that I won't be blindsided by yet another transition - and that if transition does come, I will be as invested in the process as Nate.

This is going to be a big year for us. Lots of changes, but the kind that yield long-term, lasting results. Next year at this time, I'm hoping and dreaming of having some very real roots for the first time since I graduated from college. I'm excited. I'm afraid of being disappointed. I'm trying to balance my desire for rootedness in this life with the knowledge that my ultimate Home can only ever be with Christ. But I feel like I've been in a tunnel for the past 3 years, and just now am starting to see some light, some real hope for the thriving Life I have been looking everywhere for. I think 26 is going to be a good year.

Bill Cosby and Nate Harkness: It was meant to be

I love Bill Cosby. I've always loved him. I love him for his goofiness, his amazing way with children, and because he reminds me of my Grandpa Satre.


The other night at 2AM Annabel woke up and decided that she and I should watch the Cosby Show together. As we did, I found a new reason to love Bill Cosby. In this particular episode, Cliff Huxtible was annoying his 8th-grade daughter Vanessa by relentlessly talking in rhymes. He was teasing her because the "two most popular girls in the eighth grade" were about to come over, and Vanessa hoped against hope that they would invite her to join the Pep Squad. Cliff thought he would be just as good at making cheers as those girls ever could be, and so to Vanessa's chagrin, he showed off his rhyming skills to her two friends. It was obnoxious and endearing at the same time - and it was exactly like something Nate would do. I loved it, and for the first time realized that in a lot of ways, Bill Cosby reminds me of my husband.
...Just one more reason to love him. After Annabel decided she had had enough of the Cosby Show and went to bed, I fell asleep thinking about Bill Cosby's rhyming and overall similarity to Nate.

The next morning, I woke up to a hot cup of coffee steaming on my nightstand. (Yes, my amazing husband brings me coffee in the morning.) On top of the mug was this note:

Coffee is black
Mochas are muddy
and you are my
FAVORITEST
Jo-drinking buddy!

...It's undeniable. Rhyming and all, Nate Harkness and Bill Cosby are definitely two peas in a pod.

Inspiration

Leafing, ripping, comparing, colorizing, picturing, crumpling, pondering. Collaging. It all begins with a color, one particular shade I look for in every picture, every page. In this case, a deep burgundy-crimson. Usually, sooner or later, an image emerges - a burgeoning focal point. All the other pages and pictures strewn around the table become the supporting cast. They revolve around the centerpoint, the heart of the story. Usually, the collage evolves from there. But not this time. Something was missing; some central element was eluding me. I was itching to make it, but not quite ready.

The other night Nate and I were worshipping with a friend of ours. Nate started singing "'Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus" - one of his favorite hymns. All week my my mind had been throwing around these colors and crumpled images, mixing them up, painting them around each other. Even as we sang my mind was flashing reds and burgundies and undulations of crimson. As the colors blurred in my vision, I continued singing, until we came to this verse:

O how sweet to trust in Jesus,
just to trust his cleansing blood;
just in simple faith to plunge me
'neath the healing, cleansing flood!

...this was the inspiration I needed. This was the missing the element. This was the reason the picture spoke to me, the reason I found it so beautiful. I imagine these women all responding to His beckon, all following Him to His living waters and being plunged, cleansed, healed. It's the same water that I am seeking, praying to be plunged into. It's where my heart wants to stand, drenched, rejoicing.

Creative Bliss

This morning's garage-saling score: all I need for months of collaging joy.

TV Obedience

So, again this morning I asked the Lord what He wanted me to do today. Immediately I thought I heard, "Watch the TV." I brushed this off, because what kind of leading is that?? Plus, I've been trying to avoid TV-watching lately and figured it was just wishful thinking. But throughout the rest of my time with the Lord, I continued to feel like I should watch the TV. So finally I went and turned it on to whatever channel it was already at, and found myself just in time for a telecast sermon from southern Illinois about listening and responding to God's Words. I had just enough time to listen to the whole thing before I had to leave for a meeting. ...I thought I sensed God smiling. :D

The Holy Spirit

This morning I spent time with the Lord and asked Him to show me what He wanted me to do throughout the day. I've been inspired by watching Nate learn about this. (Read about it at his blog - http://www.nathanharkness.blogspot.com) It's amazing the difference I feel as I go throughout the day. My whole spirit feels lighter, and (surprisingly, I have to admit) I actually do sense Him guiding me. Just little interactions here and there, someone I feel led to ask about a certain thing. I feel this freedom; like all I have to do is just this one thing that He's leading me to do, and the rest is up to Him. My only job is obedience. I'm praying for the diligence to continue this habit.

Law of Immediacy

Motivation is a challenging thing. I'm motivated to do so many different things at one time that I ended up being overwhelmed and ultimately unmotivated to do anything at all - except what's immediately in front of me, which inevitably involves taking care of my daughter in some way. Other things, like spending quality time with Nate, or writing a paper, or doing the dishes, or spending time with God, sort of disappear into the haze of immediacy. (In other words, the immediacy of Annabel walking up to me with a book in her hands, wanting me to read it to her.) How does one actually manage to accomplish anything with children/family at home, without totally isolating one's self in another room? I've yet to figure this out.

My first post.

I decided that I need a blog. I'm learning that when I don't put my life into words, a couple things happen. One, I just don't live it as deeply. There's a level of meaning that comes only through the retelling of things. And second, sooner or later I lose my life-thoughts altogether. They just don't sink in.
...I'm also learning that it's not just putting things into words, but it's using those words to connect to people. That's what this is about. So, here I am!