How My Parents Made a Difference - Part 2

Several weeks ago, I wrote about the things that my parents did right (at least from my perspective) as they raised me and my sister. What I neglected to mention though, was that not only were my parents great parents, there were unbelievable examples of a godly marriage. See, my parents made a difference in my life not only because of how they treated me, but because of how they treated each other. And this example, just as much as their parenting patterns of behaviors, was formative in my life. So, in honor of my parents and Valetine's Day, I'd like to share a few other ways that my parents made a difference.

One of the most important things I learned from my parents' marriage is the beauty of sacrifice. A lot of times when we hear about sacrifice, we think about the big heroic gestures. However, I learned from my parents that sacrifice was just as important in the day-to-day decisions. My favorite example of this is my mom's willingness to always eat the leftovers. It took me years to realize it, but I finally figured out that the reason she did this wasn't because she was overly infatuated with food that had already been prepared. Instead, she did it so that my dad didn't have to. It was a simple, yet incredibly sacrificial way to do something for him. She actively demonstrated her love, one reheated bite at a time.

Another way that my parents made a difference is that they always had each other's back. Growing up.  I always knew that if I disobeyed my dad, I would be in trouble. But if I disobeyed my mom, and my dad found out about it, my punishment would be worse because in that case, not only had I disobeyed, but I had hurt my mom and my dad was intent on protecting my mom from hurt. It was very clear that taking on my mom, meant taking on my dad too, and vice versa. I can not think of a single time that my parents bad-mouthed each other, gave conflicting instructions, or in any other way demonstrated that they weren't a team. If the world attacks, they are each others' defenders. If one of them has a problem, it is quickly "their" problem to solve. When one hurts, they both do; and when one rejoices, they celebrate together. It's very clear that "what God has joined together" will not be separated.

Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, my parents invest in each other. My mom is the world's best softball scorekeeper, and it's not because she loves the game. But my dad does and my mom loves him, and so therefore, countless afternoons and evenings were spent together at the ballfields. My mom is a teacher who loves to support her students, my dad goes to the students' activities, because he loves to support my mom. They do things that are the other's cup of tea because when they do so, they're together. The investment pays off in big and small ways. Watch my parents work on a project, and you'll see it's like watching a carefully choreographed dance. They anticipate what each other will do, the words that will be said, and what the other needs. Now the choreography isn't always perfect, but it can get pretty close, and regardless of how the project turns out, at the end of the day, they're together They've learned to love and appreciate the things that matter to the other, because they love and appreciate each other.

My parents were great parents, but they were also great examples of what it means to be a godly husband and godly wife. And while the world rarely acknowledges either of these things, I know that my own marriage is stronger for it. And I know that in heaven, their reward will surely be great.

Learning from Laundry

All of us have chores that we don't mind doing, and some that we wish we never had to do again.  For me, doing the laundry is one of the chores that fall into the latter category. I actually don't mind getting the laundry started - after all, throwing the clothes into the washer and then into the dryer isn't that difficult, but once the dryer buzzer goes off, I'll come up with all kinds of excuses not to finish the job. This really isn't a good idea, since eventually I always have to do it, but I avoid it like most people avoid the dentist.

My apathy towards folding our clean clothes has some interesting consequences. One of them is that I'm often forced to dry clothes a second time since they're wrinkled by the time I get to them. The other is that when it comes time to actually prepare the clothes for our dresser drawers, I'm apathetic about folding them in a proper and organized way. Instead, I'm much more likely to want to hurry through the process, so I can get back to something, ANYTHING, that I enjoy more.


However, several times as I've been tempted to speed through the folding process, I've been forced to slow down. The reason for this is that I've been reminded that no longer are the clothes I'm folding only my own. Instead my wonderful husband's clothes are also being prepared by my hasty hands and I'm conscious of the fact that one of the ways that I show him that I love him is through the time and energy that I spend doing things for him.  If I do less than my best, what is that saying about the quality of my care and concern for my beloved? (A quick disclaimer - my sweet husband would probably never criticize even if I left the clothes in a big heap. However, his graciousness is not an excuse for my carelessness. :-))


As I've been prompted to take more time doing the chore I'm not fond of, I'm reminded that I owe the same commitment of care to Christ. After all, how often do I go about doing things for Him in a half-hearted manner? Do I read my Bible just to get it done or because I'm delighting in the opportunity to spend time with Him? If He puts a special call on my heart to love someone who's not my favorite, do I do so with grudging acceptance of the task, or do I look at it as a chance to display my love for Him and His love for others? Even the mundane things that God calls me to deserve my best, because it is Him that I'm doing it for.


I never thought that the laundry room would be a place that I could learn to love my husband more. I certainly never thought it would teach me about loving Christ. However, I'm grateful that God uses even the simple things to teach the profundity of Him.

Hurrying Love

I've always loved the song "You Can't Hurry Love." Who among us hasn't song along with Miss Ross as she belts out "but mama said..."? Many times in my single days this song would remind me that I had to "trust, give it time, no matter how long it takes."

The song, is catchy, and is, I believe, in some respects true. I'm a firm proponent that waiting for who God has in store for you is a much better idea than rushing around to find someone. I know for certain that it worked in my case. A husband like mine is a rare jewel indeed, and looking back, every bit of waiting was definitely worth it.

However, while the romantic implications of this song may be true, there's another aspect of it that doesn't resonate. Sure, maybe we shouldn't be rushing to make someone into our soul mate, but I do think that, in a sense, we can hurry love. Now, before I lose you, this isn't another blog about how "you have to put yourself out there" - a horrible phrase if you ask me. Instead, I think we can hurry love of a different kind, the kind of love that calls people to Christ and displays His glory.

"How?" you may ask, and rightly so. The answer is that we must be that dispenser of love. Now, this doesn't mean that we will always get love in return. Christ expressly says that if we love Him, we will be persecuted. However, it does mean that as we reflect Him, and His love, we hasten people's reception of Him. We hurry love by acting like the One who is love personified, and in doing so, more people love Him.

Miss Ross's mama may have been right, but the Word of God is righter still. It says we should love others as Christ loved us. Let's hasten towards that goal, and in doing so, hurry others toward Him.

No Stone Unturn

Most of us don't like to consider ourselves selfish. We want to be, and we want to be thought of, as giving people, people who have the interests of others in sight. The truth is though that it's hard not to be selfish. After all, the only perspective that we can see things from is our own and therefore we are inclined to view others, and their lives, from that vantage point.

What we must be careful of, however, is that we are actively pursuing another vantage point. As Christians, one of our goals is to make sure that every area of our life is reflecting God. We must purposefully and deciding look for ways that we can bless those around us. Conversely, we must actively avoid that which may be taken as a curse. This isn't to say we mitigate that call of God on people's lives - our job is to accurately reflect His justice and His grace - but it does mean that instead of waiting for the opportunity to be a representative of Christ to someone else, we are investigating tangible ways that we can do this. We should be looking, high and low, for ways that we can be the dispensers of His love.

A popular Sunday School song says "This little light of mine, I'm going to let it shine." May our light not only shine, but may we, by our actions and our lives, light the way for others too.

Two dogs, a girl, and a lesson

Having two small dogs is full of adventures. Having grown up with only big dogs, it takes a while to get used to the quirks of 2 dogs that combined weigh just over 20 pounds. Although I was never a fan of small dogs when I was younger, I've grown to love my two companions. Goose and Maverick live up to their names on a daily basis; Goose is very silly and Maverick likes to get away with whatever he can. They aren't exactly like their Top Gun namesakes, but they are entertaining nonetheless.

One of the oddities about having small dogs is that when you walk them you can use a connector to join their two harnesses together. This way you only have to carry one leash and the dogs can calmly walk side-by-side each other. That's the theory at least. My dogs, again living up to their names, like to do the exact opposite of what's intended. Although they've gotten the hang of both walking the same direction if they meet an obstacle, almost without fail, they will choose to try to go around it in completely opposite ways. Even when they are both going to the same place, they battle over which side of the sidewalk they will choose to walk on. One of the dogs (Goose) weighs nearly twice the other, so he usually wins, but that doesn't keep Maverick from making his position known. And so their stubborn wills cause an untold number of mishaps and reprimands as we strive to get towards our destination.

Recently, it occurred to me that my dogs' desires to have their own way has a lesson for me as well. You see, just as my dogs are thethered together when they walk, I have made a commitment to walk life's journey alongside a wonderful man...my husband. However, my commitment to him isn't momentary, but life-long. So, just as with my dogs, it's important that we are walking in the same direction. However, equally important is that when we encounter an obstacle, we go around it together. Sure we could each struggle to get our own way, and maybe eventually we would get to the same spot on the path, but when we both take the course and the bumps side-by-side, the journey is so much sweeter for each of us.

What's true in my relationship with my husband is also true in our relationships with God. He wants us to walk with Him on our journey, not struggle for our own way. He wants us to be tethered so tightly to Him that we view obstacles from His perspective, and combat them accordingly. When we put our faith and trust in Him, knowing that He knows the way, we can rest assured that we will arrive at our desired destination. And we can do so, without struggling to ensure our own position and demands.

I sometimes doubt that my dogs will ever completely learn how to walk calmly when they are tethered together. However, there are two other dogs in the neighborhood that give me hope. They walk in partnership - seeing each obstacle as their obstacle; seeing each break in the path as one they will walk together. May I approach my relationship with my spouse in the same way. And even more so, my relationship with God.


**Bonus points to any reader who can name the TV show that provided the inspiration for the title of this blog. :-)

Presumption of Grace

We've all done it. We aren't paying attention and we accidentally cut someone off on the freeway. Sheepishly we wave our hand in apology and continue on. Or we turnaround while we are walking and bump into some unsuspecting stranger. Hastily we say we're sorry and go along our way. Perhaps we snap at someone, not because of anything they said, but because of our previous night's lack of sleep and without even making any pretense of making it right, we assume they'll understand. After all, we all have bad days.

The remarkable thing about all of these circumstances is that when we are the offender we are quick to accept our justification for the turn of events. That's because it's easy to recognize our own motivations and to believe that one ill-advised action doesn't translate into a nefarious character. We know we didn't mean any harm, and we trust that others will know that too. How often we extend that grace to others though is the real testament to the quality of our character. Do we forgive without being asked? Or do we search for an explanation that doesn't concede malfeasance? Do we extend to others the presumption of grace or do we demand an account for every grievance?

Christ said, "with the measure you use, you will be measured." (Luke 6:37) When we all stand to give an account to God, let us hope that He looks at our lives and sees a preponderance of grace. For we know that the only reason we get to spend an eternity with Him is the abundance of grace He lavished on us (Eph. 2: 8-9).

Appreciating the Pride Killer

I used to always say that I'm my own worst critic. In a lot of ways, this is still true. On an average day, I'm probably going to evaluate my performance worse than those that observe me. Frankly, it's not a matter of self-esteem, but a desire for continuous improvement. It's an annoying quality to be sure, but for some reason, that's just how I was made.

However, I've learned that despite this tendency, I still squirm at the critiques of others. Every semester I get to experience this first hand when student evaluations are released. Now don't get me wrong, I truly value and appreciate the students' feedback. From this feedback I learned things that they like, and things that they didn't. I'm able to improve my classes and make them more applicable for the next round of scholars. Their feedback promotes what I love - continuous improvement. Plus, I've been giving them feedback all semester, the least I can do is give them an opportunity to share their's. But in a room full of 30 people, it's hard to please everyone. And it's always the comments from the one who's disappointed that stand out to me.

What I'm beginning to learn though is that the resulting bruise to my ego isn't necessarily a bad thing. I grimace at their critiques because I want to be the professor that they love. I justify their comments and rationalize away their insights, because I want to believe I'm good at my job. However, when I look at the pronouns associated with this line of reasoning, I realize it's all about me. I'm hurt, I'm unfairly criticized, I'm disappointed. It's my pride that's wounded, and nothing else.

However, as a Christ-follower, I not only know that pride is not only a sin, but the more pride fills me, the less Christ does. If I'm so consumed with justifying what I've done, the clothes I choose, or the manner in which I teach because I believe that all-in-all I've done a good job, then I'm not at all focused on the work of Christ. Sure, it's good to take an inventory of how I've used the opportunities God has given me, but once I let it destroy my confidence in Him, I know that it's my pride that's experiencing pain. Criticism wounds pride and criticism is a pride-killer. As a follower of Christ, I want less of me anyway, so why shudder at the injury?

Maybe a day will come when I will rejoice at the day student evaluations are released. Maybe someone will critique my driving, or my cooking, and I will thank them. At the very least, I hope to appreciate how as a result, pride is killed in my life, and thereby, in humility, embrace the criticisms that come.. . .whether or not they are deserved.

A Reflection on Relationships

Every year as I turn another year older, I make it a habit to write a considered reflection on some part of my life (See here, here, and here. (If you are confused by the dates, I exported blogs in from a previous place so the last one is obviously not posted in my birthday month)). This annual ritual is an opportunity for me to take stock of what has transpired over the last year and to either consider what how I want to change a year from now, or what lessons I want to glean from my past experience. It's a useful, if not boring, tradition.

This year, as I pondered my birthday blog, I was reflecting on the veracity of a lesson that a good, wise friend once shared with me, and which I have since shared with others. In my field of marketing its important to recognize the costs associated with every action. My friend taught me that the same is true in relationships. Every action is either a deposit or a withdrawal, and its important to make sure that we have a "positive balance" in our relationships. Otherwise, our relationships will get strained and there will be a "deficit" that we incur. (Not to mention some possible overdraft charges. :) ) We need to consider the state of our relationships, just like we consider the state of our finances, and make decisions about how we are going to expend our resources accordingly.

While this has been a helpful lesson, I have discovered that it is perhaps, incomplete. Because unlike a bank account, when you make a deposit in a relationship, there is little guarantee that it will be protected and secured. Relationships instead, may function more like your retirement plan. You make deposits and hope that future interests and returns will reveal that it was a sound investment. However, just as many are discovering with their dwindling 401(k) plans, this investment may end up in disappointment. The investments we make in relationships, as with our retirement, are in anticipation of the future, and the future is often anything but clear.

Yet, in learning this lesson, I have also determined, that we should make the deposits anyway. Sure, it may be that we are disappointed with how certain investments turn out. Maybe we pour our life into a friend only to have them betray us. Maybe we invest in a stranger, only to find that our efforts were rebuffed. But just like any financial planner would tell you that the current market fluctuations shouldn't deter you from planning for your future, a few unmaterialized relationship investments, shouldn't mean that we abandon what we've been called to do. For Christians, our degree of investment is clear. We should be willing to lay down our life for our friends (John 15:31) and go out of our way to care for a stranger (Luke 10:25-31). And while we may not reap the rewards of this investment immediately, we do have a guaranteed return in Heaven where we can look forward to our Father commending and rewarding us for how we cared for others on Earth. (Matt. 25:34-36).

Investments in retirement plans and investment in relationships are good, sound decisions. However, we need to make these decisions knowing that the immediate outcome is uncertain. Yet from eternity's perspective, the investment that counts, the investment we make in others, is secured.

The Empty Salsa Jar

Being a single adult affords more than its fair share of awkward moments. Weddings are a fan favorite - especially during those slow dances that are all about showing the one you love how much you care. Family Christmas letters are another - there's only so many times that people want to read the latest news on your career. Even something as seemingly benign as going to church can be a cause for chagrin. There is, after all, no quicker way to clear a row of seats at church than to have a grown person sit at one end. Immediately there will be a berth of 10 feet granted by the remaining of the congregants.

Although these public displays of aloneness can be discomfiting, there are some private moments that also have their share of vexation. Like an empty salsa jar. It's not that you're out of salsa that causes the concern (although that does have its fountain of pain) its realizing that since the time you bought the salsa and the time you can see through to the bottom no one else has eaten it but you. I guess some (i.e. guys) may see this as a sense of accomplishment but it has its hints of sadness too. After all, we were made for community and if there's not even someone to share your salsa with, you kind of realize how very on your own you are. Even those of us blessed enough to have a caring family or steady friends know that while we might be able to convince someone to come over and eat some dip with us, no one is legally or spiritually obligated to share in our food, to be a part of our household. You realize that "your immediate family" is now just you.

Somehow though, along with minor flashes of despair, there is a sense of comfort in this too. As much as I might like someone to share my life with, I know that I've learned things I never would have if I could conveniently lean on another. As it is its just me and God, and it doesn't take long for me to realize that I'm not going to cut it. There's freedom without obligation and this has allowed me to experience life in a way that family responsibilities don't allow (Spontaniety is a lot easier when the only schedule to consider is your own.) Patience is an obvious (although imperfect) bi-product of the unfulfilled anticipation. Security too, knowing that although life may not turned out as I planned, God's plans will prevail.

Someday I hope to have someone else to blame the empty salsa jar on (along with the dirty dishes, messy closet and a whole host of other things.) Until then, I'm grateful for the lessons that the journey affords and the fact that no one steals the chips!

Avoiding Loneliness

In "Lucky You", Drew Barrymore plays a girl new to the Vegas scene who falls for the bad-boy, compulsive gambler. The movie wasn't great, and Drew Barrymore's character was one of the least believable, but despite these flaws, she did have one noteworthy saying. As the two lovebirds stare at the city's light, she utters "I think everyone is just trying to avoid being lonely." The setting was contrived, but the words full of veracity. Most people are just trying to avoid being lonely. Its why people obsess over divergent things - drugs, relationships, church, cars, etc. As Tim McGraw sings "We're all looking for meaning in our lives, we follow the road that leads us to drugs or Jesus."

What I think has been lost is that there is a difference between being lonely and being alone. Loneliness concerns having an unfulfilled need - a sense of abandonment and lack of validation. Being alone simply means having solitude. For many, the fact that they are alone brings on feeling of loneliness because they consider their isolation as a form of destitution. But it doesn't necessarily have to be this way. Being alone can simply mean that there is no one else around. Maybe not a preferable situation, but an instructive one. Because in our singularity we can learn a lot about who we are and who we are not. We come to discover what life is like without our masks and we feel those things that we are scared to acknowledge in community. Being alone shouldn't be avoided, it should be celebrated because its when we are most vulnerable with ourselves, and with God.

I know why people try to avoid being lonely. God made us for community and when we are deprived of that our soul suffers. But being in community doesn't mean never being alone. It means having people to be alone with. And its trusting that a time of solitude will make the community all the sweeter.

Hearts Unbroken

Tim McGraw sings a song with the following lyrics:

No one ever left me out in the rain
Cold words still remain unspoken
And I never got lost, spent years in the dark
You're here, now my heart's unbroken

The song, sung to a lover, is about the restorative aspects of found happiness. The pain of the past is melted away in the overwhelming goodness of the current joy. The good of today wipes away the tears of yesterday.

While each of us may wish for a love like that, I'm not entirely convinced it exists and the weird thing is, I think that's a good thing. I have a friend who thinks everyone should have the heart broken at least once - it helps them appreciate future love. I tend to agree with her. But that's not the only reason I think a heart unbroken would be less-than-ideal. A heart unbroken is a heart that's never sacrificed, that's never grieved, that's never bled. A heart unbroken is a heart that has never wept for another, who's never known grace, who is mindful of only its seeming completeness. We tend to justify pain as the force to give us the ability to recognize good, but pain in its own right has benefits. It shows us that we are human, that we are fragile and that this life is incomplete. Just as physical pain warms us when we are causing ourselves are, emotional pain should give us heed. It helps us recognize what's bad, as well as appreciate the good. Not only does it tell us that there are better things ahead, it demonstrates that this life isn't it.

A broken heart is never fun but it is instructive. A heart unbroken would just never know it.

In Defense of Nice

Recently I've had the awkward experience of someone assuming that I "liked" one of my guy friends. Not knowing the person well, I couldn't set the record straight, although it did make me wonder why the thought would have entered their mind. In sharing with another friend, he wisely said, "maybe she just doesn't know that you're nice to everybody and so she thinks it means something." I agreed and shrugged my shoulders. What else could I do? Its not a situation that I'm totally unfamiliar with and through the years I've learned its easier to roll with it rather than defend my intentions.

What's been impressed on my heart even more recently though is that while people may think I'm nice, I'm not sure I'm very good at sharing the motivations behind it. Even some of my best friends just think, "well that's Natalie, she's a nice person", which while I wish were true, I also recognize is horribly inaccurate. I'm not a nice person. I'm selfish, and a little too independent, and can be as stubborn as all get out. Who I am is a sinner, who, through God's saving grace, is hopefully developing a regenerate heart that more accurately reflects His love and His goodness each and every day. Its not that I'm nice - its that God's been so gracious to me, I'm compelled to share His goodness with others.

I haven't figured out how to more accurately conveyed this since I'm one of those people who show love through actions rather than words. But maybe knowing more clearly in my own mind why I am nice will help me share this motivation with others. And then maybe my reflection of Christ's love will shine a little brighter as a result.

A Great Grace

My friends are great. They are often the source of the biggest blessings in my life and it seems like every day I find a new reason to be grateful for them. It is wonderful to know that I have people who I can turn to in good times or in bad; friends who will be there for me even if I don't know what I need. We have fun together and just generally enjoy sharing life with one another. We love one another and they mean more to me than I can ever say.

One of the best things about my friends is that they are rarely difficult to love. Sure, we all get on each other's nerves from time to time, but when push comes to shove we know that we'll be there. This is something that we value and cherish, and I'm grateful that it is this way. I've come to realize though loving these wonderful people is nothing to be commended for. It's easy to love them. They contribute to my life, and I genuinely enjoy their company. It's the people who aren't so easy to love that pose the greater challenge.

Thomas a Kempis stated, "It is no great matter to associate with the good and
gentle; for this is a naturally pleasing to all, and everyone willingly enjoyeth peace, and loveth those best that agree with him. But to be able to live peaceably with hard and perverse persons, or with the disorderly, or with such as go contrary to us, is a great grace, and a most commendable thing." It's easy to love those who love us; it's harder to love those who make life difficult.

I plan to continue to love my friends fiercely. They deserve nothing less. But I hope that as Christ showers me with His love, I will become a reservoir of His grace to others. After all, He couldn't have found much that was lovable in me and that didn't stop Him from dispensing His grace.

Come To Think Of It

If you're around me for any length of time, you'll probably notice that I'm a planner. My natural inclination is to think through the consequences of circumstances and to try to adjust my behavior accordingly. Although my proclivity towards planning even small circumstances has been the subject of much teasing, I have no real desire to change. I figure this ridiculous desire to plan has provided more good then bad. Plus, it makes me unique - anyone can be spontaneous.

As I mentioned, the plans I make are rooted in a desire to think things through to their logical conclusion. Unfortunately, a lot of my plans are about me and what's going on in my life. I don't take nearly the same level of care when I think about others. Others' lives tend to be more of a cursory concern.

Mother Teresa once said, " Thoughtfulness is the beginning of great sanctity. If you learn this art of being thoughtful, you will become more and more Christ-like, for his heart was meek and he always thought of others. Our vocation, to be beautiful, must be full of thought for others."

Although there is much depth to be explored in this quotation, there are two things in particular that caught my attention. First, is that Christ's thoughts were never of Himself. Many times in Scripture the Lord tried to get away and be refreshed only to see a need in the crowd and adjust His plans. Although He knew how to get what He wanted, and needed, namely rest, He choose instead to think of others and change His behavior. When our thoughts are of ourselves, we don't provide ourselves the opportunity to do the same.

Secondly, Mother Teresa said that thoughtfulness caused our vocation to be beautiful. Although we may be inclined to believe that she was talking about her particular vocation to be a nun, in reality each Christian shares the same calling to serve Christ. Whether we are a teacher, a businessperson, a doctor or a politician each of us have the chance to make our vocation beautiful through the act of thinking of others. It's this act that causes our vocation to be a ministry of Christ.

I may never think of others with the same great care that I plan for my own life. But someday, I hope to.

The Power of Substitution

In math, "the substitution method is used to eliminate one of the variables by replacement when solving a system of equations." Basically, you replace an unlike variable for a similar variable in order to solve the problem. You hope that if the substitution is equivalent that you'll get the answer you need.

In life its often the same. People substitute pursuit of a career for time with family. They substitute alcohol for happiness. They substitute sex for love. Every time they hope that the substitute contains enough of the characteristics of what they really want that the substitute will fill the need. It rarely does. But it doesn't keep them from trying.

We do it in relationships too. We pass the time with Mr or Mrs. Right Now, instead of waiting for the Right One. We use people for the companionship that they provide even if the future of the relationship is untenable. We try to convince ourselves that what we're doing is o.k., knowing the whole time that we settling for something that's less than what we're made for. In human relationships and in our relationship with God, we accept the inferior because we're scared of the power of the perfect. We try to eliminate our real need by substituting something of like qualities. We do it to solve our problems, seldom realizing that we're creating new ones.

Humans are made for realness not for forgery. We're wired for the genuine, destined for what's true. Substitution is a poor excuse and an unhealthy proposition. The only way to really solve the equation is to know what we're missing in the first place.

Counted Blessings

It was one of those days that nothing went according to plan, and the amazing thing was, I was remarkably o.k. with it. I spent the weekend visiting friends and what was intended to be an afternoon party lasted long into the evening. Despite the fact that my social calendar called for something different, I didn't mind. I was exactly where I needed to be.

Each of us have friends that we can have fun with, people who make us laugh and who we enjoy each other's company. Some friends though supercede these barriers. They're invested in our lives and we're invested in their's. They are the kind of people who are precious to us just as gems are precious to many collectors. They can not be replaced or supplanted. They are truly gifts from above.

Sometimes we neglect to remember these blessings. In the busyness of life, its hard to take time to count our treasures. We often don't even recognize all that we have until its taken away. As I drove away from my prolonged visit I was a bit sad because hanging out with these people who I rarely see showed me what I was missing when they weren't a part of my life. These are people who I can be real with, who will call me on the carpet when I need to be, who will love me regardless, and who will both cry and laugh with me as the occasion demands. As one of my friends commented as she left, they are the people who I hope are my neighbors in heaven.

I may not count my blessings every day, but when circumstances converge and an account is warranted, I'm so grateful for all I've been given.

Misperceptions

Recently, a friend shared with me a story of his weekend spent volunteering with the Special Olympics. During the soccer matches members of the other team who were not challenged by any physical disabilities (both disable and non-disable players were in the game) apparently were challenged by understanding the purpose of the Special Olympics as they felt it necessary to use the avenue as an opportunity to show off their shooting techniques and run up the score. Today, I read a story of a coach who got in a fight with an 18 year-old Pee Wee referee because the referee had ejected the coach for cursing in front of his 5-6 year old players. As one of my coworkers said upon hearing these stories, "the world's gone mad."

What's interesting to me about each of the stories is the perspectives that the chief actors must have had. Obviously the soccer players felt that their actions were appropriate for the setting even if they totally missed the purpose of the Special Olympics. Additionally, I'm guessing he Pee Wee coach felt his actions (both the cursing and the fighting) were entirely acceptable given the situation. If you asked any of these participants, they probably felt that their behavior was warranted and entirely justifiable. The fact that most dispassionate observers would disagree would probably not sway them. They probably figure that mere observers probably just couldn't understand.

I think we all can get like that some times. It's so easy to see a situation from our vantage point that it just seems to be the only view available. We believe that if others really understood it the way that we did, then they too would see things our way. The fact that they aren't tarnished by emotional involvement only makes their analysis seem, well, analytical. We truly believe that our perspective is the right one.

Rarely though does one person have a monopoly on a given situation. Life on this Earth is filled with complex interactions each influenced by the history and experience of the individuals. Thankfully, our Judge is not tainted by these perceptions, however our relationships on Earth must be. We can't be impartial, we can't have a clear perception. We are all influenced by the person we choose to be.

Maybe that's why God said "mercy triumphs over judgment!" (James 2:13) Granting mercy doesn't require a perfect perceptive, bestowing judgment does.

Bypassing on judging the soccer players or the Pee Wee coach isn't easy. Their actions seem so blatantly wrong. But extending mercy assures that we take one step away from becoming them.

Relationship Imperfection

I've been thinking a lot about relationships lately. Maybe that's because I'm a girl. Maybe it's because I'm an observer of human behavior. Maybe it's because I just sent in what should be the final academic work of my career and I have nothing else to occupy my time. Whatever it is, relationships have been on my mind.

Something that is interesting to note about relationships is that everyone has them. Even the most stringent anti-socialist still has some sort of relationships. Their only relationship might be with the Starbucks barista that they see every morning on their way to the office at which they arrive only to sit in an isolated cubicle, but that still counts in the relationship category.

(Random side note - there was this great Law & Order episode about a District Attorney who was killed and they discovered that this attorney, who had served as trial and appeal lawyer on hundreds of cases wasn't who he said he purported to be. And although this guy was dedicated to keeping to himself in hopes of maintaining his charade - even he had relationships).

The other thing to note about relationships is that everyone has an opinion about them. More often than not, the opinion that they have has nothing to do with their own relationships, but is an opinion that they want to express on how someone else should be conducting the relationships in their lives. I can say from personal experience that there is no shortage of individuals who are more than willing to share just what they think you should do. And although their opinions might be diametrically opposed to one another, each individual thinks that their course of action is the one that's best to take. Filtered through their own experiences and perceptions, they are convinced that they have the key to making your relationships healthy.

Yet, despite the preponderance of amateur advice columnists, I have yet to meet a single person who has their relationships under control. Each of us have struggles, each of us have points of misunderstanding. No one can possibly know with a surety the exact right thing to do in your relationship because they've never experienced it anything quite like it. We like to categorize others' lives into relatable experiences in order to more fully understand the dynamics of a situation. But strive as we might -we'll never be fully able to relate to the relationship of another. Human beings are far too complex for us to completely understand a solitary figure, let alone understanding two and the nature of their interactions. We might try, but we will fail. Relationships are messy. They're not meant to be understood. Not that this stops us from trying.

And all of this is o.k. We don't have to understand another's experience to offer advice. Nor do we always have to have the answers. Oftentimes its our bad relationship experiences that help us empathize with others in their misfortunes. Oftentimes its the imperfections of relationships that make them the most sincere. And I think being o.k with that is part of the journey. Sometimes, relationships are just experiences to be had, people to touch, and lessons to be learned. They are not definitions to be sought, categories to be organized or benchmarks to be achieved. Relationships are about the people, not about the entity.

I'm certainly glad that Christ didn't try to figure me out before He was willing to be in relationship with me. Nor did He wait for me to proffer a definition. He loved me, not for what I could bring to the relationship, but for who I am: an imperfect being imperfectly seeking a relationship with Perfection.

Unasked Questions

The men of Israel sampled their provisions but did not inquire of the LORD. – Joshua 9:14

I am terrible at expressing myself. Or maybe that's not exactly true. I'm pretty good at expressing my opinion on things, but I'm not very good at expressing anything that might be self-revelatory. It's why my co-workers instigated "Share Time with Natalie". I am so bad at talking about myself that they figured if they interrogated me every Monday morning, I would become a little more proficient. It's worked on some levels – and I'm forever grateful to them for that.

One of the main reason I'm so reluctant to express my feelings is because I figure that if someone acts they realize they ramifications of those actions including the potential to hurt my feelings. There seems little reason to mention something that seems so obvious to me, so instead of questioning what happened, I swallow my feelings and say it doesn't matter. It happened just today and despite the therapeutic nature of this blog, I still can't bring myself to ask the person if they realize what they did.

And I think it's the same for a lot of what happens in the world. We make so many assumptions about the cause of things based on our own experiences and perceptions. Rarely does this single-handedness take into account all the factors pertaining to a given circumstance. We do the same with God. We assume that when things happen, it must be the work of His hand, and so we make decisions based on that perception.

Sometimes, however, things happen that are contrary to God's plan for our lives. We perceive presence as acknowledgment of an open door, but it could be the exact opposite. And instead of stopping and ask God for His wisdom, we proceed on our own ignorance, and suffer the consequences as a result.

My feelings would probably be saved a lot of heartache if I was more willing to pause in a situation and talk with someone about what's happening. Going along like it doesn't matter has never turned out well for me. When the Israelites acted like God's opinion didn't matter, it didn't turn out well for them either. There's probably a lesson in that for all of us.

A Better Mouse Trap

It wasn't one of my finer moments. The strategy was simple - by employing shock and awe tactics scare the mice that had invaded my condo to either surrender or to return beyond their own borders. I had marched into Home Depot, equipped myself with the necessary accoutrements (that's for you, Ralph) and went on the attack. Except there was one minor problem - I couldn't figure out how to use the mouse trap.

Now if you're like me you're probably thinking, 'it's a mouse trap, how difficult can it be?" That is an excellent question. The answer - surprisingly, maybe even astonishingly, so. Now mind you this wasn't some new fangled, high-tech mouse trap. It was your standard wooden base, metal lever, disposable weapon of choice that had been used for generations, and despite all my years of wasted education, I couldn't figure it out.

The concept of making a better mouse trap is a tried and true one. Throughout my years of business school it was repeatedly preached. After a while you realize it's not a better mouse trap that's needed. What you need is to differentiate your mouse trap from the rest, to somehow take the commonness of the trap and make it desirable to the masses.

In a way, that's what we all need. We need something to set us apart, to make us feel special in a sea of ordinariness. To some how, in some way, feel like we offer a value that can't be realized in the other mouse traps of this world. Although we may look and act the same, there's something that makes us different and therefore wanted.

The mouse trap that I had purchased at Home Depot seemed simple. And to the person who showed me how to use it, it was. But that's because he understood it; I thought I did, but I was wrong. How many relationships suffer from the same fate?