The Hope of Easter

One of my parenting mentors used to look forward to his kids messing up. He would wait with expectation for his little kids' moral failures, knowing those were the moments to connect the dots between their sin and Christ's death and resurrection. He said we should expect our kids to commit every "crime short of murder," and when it comes, not to respond with shock or outrage. Instead of saying, "I'm horrified and disappointed that you've soiled the Jones family name!" we should wait until their defense has tired and their regret has set in, draw them close, and say, "I'm not shocked. I don't think you're a terrible person. I knew this day would come, and I'm thankful that now you can understand why we celebrate Easter." Consequences, yes, but seasoned with the hope of Easter.

I think of that every year at this time. I actually think of it all year long, each time my own moral failures hit. After I'm done making excuses and justifications, when I'm finished berating myself and wallowing in shame, I lift my head out of the pit and think to myself, "And this is why I'm thankful for Easter."

Connections

I make connections; it's what I do. My mind is always leaping between people, places, events, ideas, messages, quotes, and experiences, trying to find ways to tie them together, categorize them, and make sense of them. Sometimes the connections come easily; sometimes they remain vague and hazy until they finally come together or I give up on them.

Right now, my mind is working overtime to make a connection. It's still in the "vague and hazy" stage, much too early to write about it publicly, and yet that's what I'm about to do. Writing helps me see connections, so I'm going to unfurl the words from my brain and see what comes of it. Feel free to stick around and watch.

• No matter how optimistic and grateful I am, our world seems to me to be violent, sick, hurting, hopeless, messed up. 
• Jesus is the answer. He is our hope. 
• Christians know that Jesus is the answer. 
• Christians are known for what we stand against, not what we stand for. We are not seen by the masses as people who have found the cure to "the malignancy of the soul" (I'm quoting Kathie Lee Gifford here, who hit it out of the park in her tribute to Billy Graham on the Megyn Kelly show). 
• Billy Graham has died. The most well known voice of the gospel, the most respected messenger of the good news of saving grace, is gone. I don't see anyone ready to step into his place. 
• The next generation, called Gen Z, is the first completely digitally native generation in the history of the world. They have never known life without the Web, iPhones, social media, and universal connectedness. 
• They know how to mobilize support for their cause, as evidenced by the survivors of the Parkland shooting.
• They know how to communicate and use technology to their advantage. 
• Some of these Gen Zers--many of them--know the hope of Christ. They've found Him, they believe Him, they're all in with Him.
• Many of these Christian Gen Zers have been raised by very intentional parents. My parents didn't have to be intentional. They grew up in a society where "everyone's basically a Christian," and they assumed that was true as I was growing up. That wasn't the case, but evidence to the contrary was not strong enough to drive them to intentional discipleship. If we were "discipled" at all, it was by Oprah and Judy Blume.
• Gen Zers have grown up in a much less "Christian" world. Not only are Christian views not the norm, they're pretty much considered the enemy of the norm. 
• As a result, many Gen Zers have grown up being taught to know, explain, and defend their faith in a way previous generations have not. 
• Jesus is captivating. 
• God gave us the Holy Spirit and left us in charge of captivating others with the good news of Jesus. 
• Are Christians living out a captivating faith? Are we holding out the good news to those who are hungry for it? Or are we distracted by political issues and our own internal squabbles?
• Will the next generation be different? Will they be able to communicate the hope of Christ, leveraging technology and global connectedness, armed with a deep knowledge of biblical truth, in a way no one's ever seen before?
• Will there be not one "Billy Graham" in the future, but a connected, mobilized, hope-offering network of millions? 

God is leading me to pray about all of this. To pray for my children, of course, but also to pray for their friends, and to pray for the hundreds and thousands of kids who are pre-teens, teens, and young adults right now. I pray for a new, special outpouring of the Holy Spirit to fall on them. I pray they will be courageous, confident, and captivating in sharing the Good News. And I pray for revival like this world has never seen before, revival that would make Billy Graham stand in awe.

If you can see some connections in all of this, will you pray with me?

Celebrating People in the Background

Among the junior high girls in my Bible study, there's a general consensus about who gets noticed at their school. One of them summed it up eloquently: If you choose to have good character and do the right thing, you're making a decision to be in the background. My four kids would all agree with this statement. The irony is that they go to a character-based charter school.

But when I read these words from one of my favorite authors, Eugene Peterson, I saw that these kids' experience aligns with the truth of our bigger world. 

There is little to admire and less to imitate in the people who are prominent in our culture. We have celebrities but not saints. Famous entertainers amuse a nation of bored insomniacs. Infamous criminals act out the aggressions of timid conformists. Petulant and spoiled athletes play games vicariously for lazy and apathetic spectators. People, aimless and bored, amuse themselves with trivia and trash. Neither the adventure of goodness nor the pursuit of righteousness get headlines. 

No culture has been as eager to reward either nonsense or wickedness. 

If, on the other hand, we look around for what it means to be a mature, whole, blessed person, we don't find much. These people are around, maybe as many of them as ever, but they aren't easy to pick out. No journalist interviews them. No talk show features them. They are not admired. They are not looked up to. They do not set trends. There is no cash value in them. No Oscars are given for integrity. At year's end no one compiles a list of the ten best-lived lives. 
(from Run with the Horses: The Quest for Life at Its Best)

We can occasionally find a human-interest story celebrating good works, but usually it's on such a large scale that I find it hard to identify with. I can't give a million dollars to a worthwhile cause. I've yet to find myself in a situation in which I can save a dozen lives, or even one.

But then I get off the internet and turn off the news and think about the real people who I know. Like my 74-year-old friend who spends his days tending to his ailing wife and doing everything he can to keep her out of a nursing home. He himself has spent decades in chronic pain because of rheumatoid arthritis, and a spinal stroke several years ago took a severe toll on him. And yet when I see him, he tells me over and over again, "I love God," like a teenage talking about his first love. He loves God in a way I can only hope to experience some day. He gets my Oscar for a life well lived.

So does my mom, who selflessly gave years of her life to provide a home for women transitioning out of jail. She lived with them day and night, testing their urine and trying to help them start new, clean lives, knowing only a fraction of them would succeed. She wasn't a social worker or a mental health expert. She was a secretary and a grandma who did what God told her to do, regardless of the personal cost.

There's my sister-in-law who took care of an elderly lady in her church for years, while simultaneously raising three of the greatest kids I know. My friends who raise special-needs children with hope and joy. The moms and dads I know who do foster care and do it well, loving on crack-addicted babies for months until they have to release them back to the state. These are the people who deserve accolades and awards--and yet all of them would run away from it. These are "background" people. They do what they do quietly, off the radar, not for attention but simply because it's the right thing to do.

I hope my Bible study girls and my own children will grow up to become those people. They won't be social media stars or make the talk-show circuit, but they'll be people who are mature, blessed, and whole. People pursuing the adventure of goodness and righteousness. What could be more challenging--or more exciting--than that? 

Lessons Learned by a Senior Mom

I am a lot of things to a lot of people, but more than anything else right now, I'm the mom of a high school senior. More specifically, I'm a newbie mom of a high school senior. This actually is my first rodeo, and as we ride through this buckin' bronco phase of life, I'm learning some things.

First, what happened to parents between 1989 and 2018? When I was a junior my dad asked me, literally from his deathbed, what I was thinking about college. Because I had been zealously researching this topic (without the internet, mind you) since I was 14, I had a ready answer. I don't remember my mom and I ever having any conversation about my college plans before halfway through my senior year. Granted, we were dealing with home hospice care and bed pans, but I don't remember anyone else's parents being obsessed with the college process in 1989.

Cut to 2018, where we've been talking about college in our house for as long as I can remember. Even my 10-year-old knows where she wants to go and who she wants to room with. I have made eight college visits with Braden and have spent hours (days?) on collegiate websites. My husband and I spent nearly every waking moment between Christmas and New Year's filming Braden and putting together a video for a scholarship competition. We have coached him through interview techniques. We have provided phonebook-sized study books to help him raise his ACT score. And from what I read about other people, we're the sane ones in this process. I have learned that my generation cares more about our kids going to college than they do.

I've also realized that it's very easy to let the world's perspective seep into what should be a very Spirit-led decision. I regret that our college discussions have centered more on maximizing Braden's potential and future pay than on seeking God's will for his life. I regret that we've made it all about the physical destination, when we should have talked more about the spiritual journey. (Thankfully, it's not too late, and even if we miss this boat with Braden, we've still got three more kids to go!)

I've learned that I want to do "senior mom" well, and for me, that means toning it down. Yes, there's a "this-is-the-last-time-we'll -ever" narrative running through my  head, but to express that over and over again would get old fast. I've decided to savor the "lasts" while not carrying on about them. In October when I celebrated my last birthday with all my kids at home, I was intentional about planning a day we could all spend together, and also about not crying my way through it. I want my words to my senior to be positive. I want to affirm the vision God is giving him for the future, not remind him of all he's leaving behind.

I've learned that this kid isn't me. OK, I knew that when he was 2 and refused to take off his shoes at a toddler gymnastics class. But now more than ever, I'm seeing that even though he may share half my DNA, his strengths, preferences, and the way he thinks about the world are all very different from me. On our college tours, I try to act interested in student-made 3-D printers and physics classes that would be the death of me. Not my cup of tea, but exciting for my son, and therefore exciting to me. I've also learned to accept that location is not very important to him. While I sought out a college in Santa Barbara with a sweeping view of ocean and palm trees, he's considering East Texas, where, according to my Texas friends, people eat squirrels. As long as I don't have to eat squirrels, I can go with this.

More than anything, I'm learning how to parent an adult. That requires an awful lot of faith, both in the parenting job that my husband and I have done so far, and more importantly, in the One who loves our son even more than we do and who can fill in all our gaps.

Graduation: 115 days and counting, and still so much to learn.

My 2017 Book List

MY FAVORITES

The Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert: An English Professor’s Journey into Christian Faith by Rosaria Champagne Butterfield. The gap between evangelical Christians and the homosexual community has never been wider. If both sides would sit down together and read the first part of this small little book, we would learn volumes. The author was a liberal feminist college professor and outspoken lesbian when she formed an unlikely friendship with an elderly pastor and his wife. Her journey to Christ cost her everything; she calls her conversion a “train wreck” and makes us understand why. If we want to draw gay men and women to the gospel, we’ve first got to understand them. We’ve got to learn why they define themselves by their sexuality. We’ve got to know what it looks like to love them while speaking the truth. This book is a great start. The latter part turns into the author’s advocacy of adoption, homeschooling, and certain doctrinal issues—still interesting, but not as helpful as the first part.

Reclaiming Conversation: The Power of Talk in a Digital Age by Sherry Turkle. Face-to-face interactions are changing rapidly, and this MIT researcher tells us how. Turkle writes,"The thing I hear most is that going to your phone makes it easier to avoid boredom or anxiety. Through our devices, our brains are offered a continuous and endlessly diverting menu that requires less work. We haven’t stopped talking, but we opt out, often unconsciously, of the kind of conversation that requires full attention. Every time you check your phone in company, what you gain is a hit of stimulation, a neurochemical shot, and what you lose is what a friend, teacher, parent, lover, or co-worker just said, meant, and felt.” Turkle has scientific evidence for all the vague suspicions and concerns I have about social media. She is not chicken little; the book is more balanced that you’d think. It’s also intended as a wake-up call for parents—not just to be careful with their kids’ technology, but with their own. An example: “Fifteen-year-old Hillary says that when it comes to personal matters, she would rather turn to her mother than the network, but ‘when my mother is texting, she can’t be reached.’ And she doesn’t know how to get her mother’s attention. But on Instagram or Facebook, someone is always listening.” This is a book we would all be wise to give our attention to. 

Run with the Horses: The Quest for Life at its Best by Eugene Peterson. Peterson had a rough year, but I’m still a big, big fan. This book about the prophet Jeremiah, originally written in the 80s, is as relevant as ever. Peterson’s angle: Why is it that those who live badly are the ones living in the limelight? Why is it so difficult to publicly identify the few who are living wise, thoughtful, meaningful, selfless, humble, beautiful lives? Those are the people experiencing what it means to be fully human. I learned so much about Jeremiah in this book that still felt completely relevant and modern. And no one writes like Eugene Peterson. I need to keep a dictionary handy as I read his work, as well as a journal that is rapidly filling up with brilliant Peterson quotes.

Seeking Allah, Finding Jesus by Nabeel Qureshi. This is an apologetics book—Christian and Islam apologetics—written in first-person story form. After 9/11, this devout Muslim college student began delving into the foundations of both faiths and realized that his own came up wanting. With everything to lose, Qureshi turned to Jesus in the face of evidence he could not deny. His story is captivating, and I can't imagine a better book for a Muslim who is seeking to know more about Jesus. Qureshi died of cancer at age 34 in September. This is one of three books he left behind.

MY ATTEMPT AT UNDERSTANDING THE WORLD

Strangers in Their Own Land: Anger and Mourning on the American Right by Arlie Russell Hochschild. In my ongoing attempt to make sense of the Rust Belt Trump voters, I persevered through this book. A liberal Berkeley sociologist spent five years interviewing and living among residents of Lake Charles, Louisiana, to discover answers about what she calls the Great Paradox: Why do people in one of the poorest, most polluted states continue to vote for anti-regulation, big-industry focused political candidates? Not surprisingly, the author didn't check her biases at the door and gives a stereotypical, negative portrayal of Christians. I struggled to get through the book, but the many stories and some insightful conclusions kept me going.

Much better was...

Hillbilly Elegy: A  Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis by J.D. Vance. This one I highly recommend. Much more engaging than Strangers, Vance tells his story of going from a single-parent household in "hillbilly" country to earning a Yale law degree. Not only is his personal story fascinating, but his observations about poor, rural culture were exactly what I was looking for. He explains a mentality that I haven't been able to grasp up to this point. Definitely worth reading.

The Strange Death of Europe: Immigration, Identity, Islam by Douglas Murray. This British author is a divisive figure, and his anti-immigration biases were clear throughout the book. But he’s got some really good points. When Europe became too “enlightened” for Christianity, a huge religious and cultural vacuum resulted. When a strong religion/culture finds a vacuum, it fills the space. This, Murray argues, is what has happened with Islam in 21^st century Europe. I learned that 70% of all students in Catholic schools in the famous Seine Saint-Denis region of France are Muslim. What?! Murray argues that the continent that imports the world’s people will also import the world’s problems and cites dozens of examples from across Europe. His thoughts on immigration were interesting, but I was most fascinated by his perspective as a “post-Christian” hungering for truth, meaning, purpose, and hope, and wishing he could return to the faith of his grandparents. Hmmm.

The Invention of Russia: From Gorbachev's Freedom to Putin's War by Arady Ostrovsky. I picked this book up while looking for a quick read on how Russia got to the place it's in today. Of course Russian writers don't know how to do "quick read." The focus of this book is the role the Russian media have played in the past 30 years and how the government harnesses the media for its own propaganda purposes. In July 2014, Russian TV "interviewed" a Ukrainian woman who said she had witnessed the torture and "crucifixion" of a three-year-old boy at the hand of Ukrainian fascists, followed by the dragging death of the boy's mother behind a military tank. The story was completely made up, and yet it fueled the Russian people's anger against Ukraine and led to overwhelming support of the Crimea annexation. Similar propaganda propelled Russia into Syria. The author states, "The notion of television as a weapon lost its metaphorical sense. It was the real weapon causing real destruction. Never before had wars been conducted and territory gained primarily by means of television and propaganda. The Russian media did not just distort reality—it invented it." My appreciation for the American free press, flawed though it may be, soars in light of this. 

The Gene: An Intimate History by Siddhartha Mukherjee. I am no scientist, but I have a a somewhat morbid interest in biogenetics and the future of gene manipulation. This was the perfect book to answer all my questions. The author, a physician and cancer researcher, addressed the moral side of genetic technology as much as the actual technology itself, and that is where I tuned in the most. I did have to gloss over many pages filled with scientific descriptions and research explanations. But from Darwin to Mendel to Nazi Eugenics to Watson and Crick to CRISPR, he presented a very thorough picture of the development of genetics, as well as a view into what the future could hold. We will all be talking about this in the next 30 years, so I wanted to understand as much as I could. This book was helpful for a non-scientist who appreciates story and good writing.

MIXED RESPONSE

You Are What You Love by James Edward Smith. What I wanted to love was this book, and it came with such acclaim that I was sure I would. But I didn’t love it, at least not beyond the first chapter. I thought it was a hard read—academic and redundant—and the author also had a strong hidden agenda that became not-so-hidden the longer I read. The agenda was orthodoxy, and while I am not at all opposed to orthodoxy, I don’t think I would have intentionally read a book about it. I didn’t love this one, but I didn’t hate it, either. The author did make some great points that will stick with me a long time.

The Beckoning by Michael Minot. This book was recommended by a trusted organization, but unless you’re a new believer, a believer struggling with doubt, or someone who’s on the fence about Jesus, I wouldn’t recommend this one. It’s a straight-up apologetics book, not-so-professionally written, but I still made it all the way through. Every once in a while we need a reminder about how amazing it is that we are the perfect distance from the sun. The Beckoning is good for those types of reminders.

FICTION

11/22/63 by Stephen King. After reading King’s On Writing last year (so well done), I decided to try one of his novels. Except the last thing I’m gonna do is read a horror book. This is one of his few non-horror stories. As the title indicates, it’s a time-travel story about the assassination of JFK. With a thought-provoking subject and good characters, it entertained me for hours on a long road trip (hours and hours and hours, as it’s 847 pages), but I don’t need to read another Stephen King book. I’m pretty sure it was the book’s foul language—even more so than the road trip—that made me feel like I was always in need of a shower. The language, along with some excessively graphic violence, got old real quick and detracted from an otherwise good story.

And speaking of needing a shower...

The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen. The most toxic characters I’ve met in literature appear in Franzen’s critically acclaimed book. But it is acclaimed for good reason. At times, the writing took my breath away. He unfurls a sentence—sometimes two pages long—like nothing I’ve ever seen. You would think that masterful writing and an interesting plot—a couple in their 60s trying to have one last Christmas in their own house with their three adult children—would make for a great book. Many have made that assessment of The Corrections. But the characters were unlikable to the point of being gross, each of them so unhealthy, miserable, and morally bankrupt that I could barely journey with them through what should have been a really good story.

The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry by Rachel Joyce. It’s hard to find a fiction book today that doesn’t require at least a bit of moral compromise. This simple little tale is an exception. Good writing, vivid characters, and a simple storyline add up to a nice, quick read. Still, while others might find it hopeful or uplifting, I didn’t. I liked the character transformation and the ending, but as much as I enjoyed the book, it was a story that made me sad.

Commonwealth by Ann Patchett. It’s disappointing when a good writer tells a mediocre story. Every page of this popular book contained at least a couple well constructed, well planned sentences. While I appreciated that part of the book, I didn’t care about the characters or their story. A bit of a yawn. 

East of Eden by John Steinbeck. My first read of this classic. It was also a good escape from the crude language and graphic sex and violence of modern novels. A good story, but the characters almost seemed too formulaic as Steinbeck considered the themes of good versus evil and fate versus self-direction. Modern reading has given me a taste for more areas of gray rather than characters who are so black and white. But of course the writing was very good and the story moved along well.

Any recommendations for 2018? Please send them my way! 

Christmas in Light of the Cross

For weeks, I've been camped out in John 19. My work has led me there, but it just as easily could have led me to Galatians or Joshua or Job. But that's not the timing of things this year. No, this Christmas season, while the rest of the world is thinking about Luke 2, my mind is swimming in John 19. While everyone else is pondering the beginning of Jesus' story, I'm immersed in the end.

I have always loved all things Christmas. I'm chomping at the bit to get the tree up weeks before the rest of my family. I'm that person who annoys everyone else by listening to Christmas music in early November. But this year, my perspective is a little different, shaped by John 19.

I hear "What Child Is This" on the radio, and I answer in my head: "The one who would be tortured, mocked, and nailed to a cross. The one who would announce 'It is finished' and mean more with those three words than any human being could grasp in a lifetime."

I hear "Mary Did You Know" and picture Jesus' mother not holding her newborn infant in a manger, but standing in horror at the foot of the cross watching her son crucified--but not before He ensured that she would be cared for by His friend John.

I walk through the streets caroling with my daughters and their friends, hearing their sweet voices sing, "Hark the Herald Angels Sing." I imagine these same angels, no robes or harps, but an army of warrior angels looking down at the crucifixion with shock and indignation, restrained only by sheer devotion to God from storming the earth and rescuing heaven's prince.

"Joy to the world, the Lord has come. Let earth receive her King." Not only did earth not receive Him; it mocked Him, hanging Him under the banner, "Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews." This was Pilate's dig at the Jewish religious leaders, an inscription on Jesus' cross that he knew would infuriate them. It did just that, but it also served to properly identify the one who truly was the King, not only of the Jews but of everyone everywhere.

I hear "O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant." There's no joy and triumph in John 19. There are very few "faithful" who followed Jesus all the way to cross. The crowds who flocked to Him during His life abandoned Him at His death. I'll have to wait for John 20 to see any sign of joy and triumph.

Christmas and Easter. They're three months apart on our calendars, but they're intertwined in history. The glory of God was on full display at both the nativity and the cross. Neither is what we'd expect. God's glory was a baby "shivering in the night" and a man bleeding to death in the most humiliating, excruciating form of execution ever devised. (The very word "excruciating" shares its Latin root with "crucify" and means "pain as severe as crucifixion." The Romans set the standard for unbearable pain.)

As we come to adore Him this Christmas, let's not forget the price He paid for us to do that. Celebrate and enjoy, for sure, but remember that the baby in the manger, so meek and mild, was led to the cross like a sheep to the slaughter. He willingly laid down His life for us in the most horrific of ways. While you're reading Luke 2 on Monday, think about reading John 19, as well--and then continue on to John 20 for the real celebration.

Beggars Seeking Grace, One and All

A lot of people died last week, people whose names and stories I didn't know. But three of them, I know a little something about. These three all arrived at the throne of God last week.

One was a well respected businessman and missionary, a man who lived a long life dedicated to knowing Christ and making Him known. He was gracious and kind. He had a beautiful marriage and left a legacy of faith for his descendants, both biological and spiritual. He was what you'd call a "good man." Maybe even a "great man."

The second man I know less about, except for the scandalous public facts. As a teenager, he intentionally killed his own mother. As a prisoner, he encountered Jesus. As a middle-aged man, his life sentence was commuted, due in part to the tireless petitioning of his brothers and sisters in Christ. He found a home in a church and blessed many with his musical gifts before he fell again, this time to alcohol and a drunk-driving incident that seriously injured his victim. Apparently, it was another drunk-driving episode that took his life. He was what we would call a "very flawed" man.

The third person--and yes, she was definitely a person--never stepped foot on the earth. She was a full-term baby who died without ever leaving her mother's womb. Though she was marked by humanity's sin nature, she never had the opportunity to sin herself; she was what we'd call "innocent."*

I picture all three, entering heaven at just about the same time. In my mind, one is wearing his suit and tie, one a prison-orange jumpsuit, and the third, completely naked. Three such different people. Three vastly different stories. And yet...

All in the same position. All sinners condemned for offenses against a holy God. All incapable of doing any lasting good on their own, even their best deeds like "filthy rags" (Isaiah 64:6) before a God whose righteousness is beyond comprehension. And yet each of them declared holy, blameless, and above reproach (Colossians 1:22). They died not as slaves to sin, but as sinners saved by grace, each one of them as desperate for God's mercy as anyone else.

How we live this life matters, I know that. I want to be known as someone who lives a "good" life. But at the end of the day, it's not my good life that will pass the test of God's judgment. It's the life of His Son, given on my behalf, that makes me righteous. The missionary, the criminal, the baby, and me--we are all just beggars in the presence of the King,** none any better than the other. The blood of Christ covers us all without prejudice. It's a healthy, humbling thought.


*The Bible does not speak specifically to the issue of whether or not babies go to heaven, although some people point to 2 Samuel 12:2 as evidence that they do. When my kids were younger and brought up this question, I answered by asking them what they knew to be true of God's character. In light of His mercy and love, I don't have any trouble believing that God's saving grace covers young children and those who are mentally incapable of knowing Christ. 

**Thank you, Matthew West.