God with us?

She had beautiful eyes, as blue as the sky on a perfectly clear winter day.  I bet her husband swooned over them many a time.  Her hair had just a trace of blond left among the yellow.  Her skin was incredibly dented, wrinkled, worn.  She was frustrated, feisty, tired out, 80-something years old.

She was looking for the free tax preparation, which this April happens is apparently housed on the 5th floor of the science building at the university where I teach.  After she interrupted the class across the hall, she found me in office hours and started looking for tax help.  Yesterday, during my one hour a week of solitude, it was not a very welcome interruption.

I happened to have a few quiet minutes with no students around.  Something in me clicked, and paused.  It was surreal.  Supernatural?  I listened, and noticed.  Her eyes, her skin, her labored breathing, her complaints about doctors and blood pressure medicine and coughs.  And I found myself wondering, what if this very woman was the Jesus I believe in?  Jesus on the Chemistry floor during my office hours.  Would I think her more beautiful, more important, worth taking time to listen to, talk to, and would I leave a chair out for her?  For a few minutes, she became a glimpse of my humble God, and  I stopped to make time for her.

What if I had that thought 5 minutes earlier?  Would that book salesman I just talked to seem more of a valuable person than a salesman to be annoyed with?

Driving across town on my way home then, walking around the elementary school, greeting moms and grandmas, scooping up my own dirty-faced little boys.  I glimpsed people in a way that I never have before.  Not with long hair, or strange clothes, or worn, or small, or beautiful, but each the tiniest facet in a crazy glimpse of an unfathomable God.  

Conservative Christian

Nope, not writing about politics today.  OK, well, sort of.  The labels "conservative Christian voters" and "evangelical Christian voters" and all that got me thinking today.  I hear them all the time, because we do follow politics with some interest around here.  And at least this year, they kind of grate on me, because though I call myself a Christian and I've gone to church with self-identifying evangelicals my entire life, I end up feeling that I have nothing in common with the labeled groups and so many of the associated stereotypes.  And I don't really understand their voting patterns.

As for the other piece of the label, the "conservative" bit, I'm coming to appreciate others with that outlook more.  Though I tend to be more curious and progressive these days, I'm realizing that we absolutely need people who say "Wait, do we really need to change that?"  or "Wait, do we really need to get involved in that?"    Whether it's political, economic, religious, or whatever.  To my broadly stereotyping mind, conservatives (not necessarily political ones) say - let's mainly stick with how things are or were.  Libertarians let everything flex.  Liberals chase broader or newer ideas and maybe get in others' business in the process.

So what if a "conservative Christian" was just one that said "let's be more conservative in our definitions of God and Christianity and stick with the themes that God has let us in on."

God says His ways are not our ways and His thoughts are higher than our thoughts.  Can I stick with that instead of fitting God into this specific salvation prayer or that exact 1/20/40/60/80 year life opportunity to get it all done?  I must be getting it wrong the instant I think I have Him all figured out.

God says that He loves the whole world, and by grace we are saved.  Can I stick to that and not have a crystal clear definition of if that person or people group  is saved, or worthy, or loved?   I must be getting it wrong the second I think I have anyone's eternal destiny all figured out, including my own.

I make no claim to studying the related theology, and very well might be getting it wrong myself, but this is a kind of conservative Christianity I'm drawn by these days.

What do you think?

Big. Best. Babies.

During big and memorable times of year, like say, the holidays, it's easy for me to get caught up in stressing about doing something bigger or doing something better.

God does huge stuff.  But when He sent Jesus, he showed up as a baby.  A teeny, tiny baby, born into one family.  In one little village, in one little corner of the world, touching just the neighbors, friends and strangers that happened by.  That's big?!

God does the best stuff.  But He knows that we don't.  Maybe that's why He gives us babies, children, little opportunities for redemption.  One child taken too soon, two to redeem and replace.  A little child, a new opportunity for grandparents and parents to love better or love like they weren't.  Little ones with so many needs that if you blow it once, a chance for redemption is probably just seconds away.

My little ones, they are straight from God, precious gifts, and a visible reminder of the little Child of God sent so many, many years ago.  Merry Christmas.

Getting what I don't deserve

What if this is God’s message? Not a message that starts by pounding you over the head with guilt, but a message that catches you when you least deserve it and pours out love to win you? Maybe it’s obvious to the rest of you, but I didn’t grow up hearing that message, and the possibility of it has been eating at me for months now.

Two months of my salary was taken, and we were fuming. It was a small offense, I came to realize later, compared to losing all your belongings, having your body or mind taken from you, losing a child. But still, these words hit my previously “enemy-less” world with a thud.

"If someone drags you into court and sues for the shirt off your back, gift wrap your best coat and make a present of it. And if someone takes unfair advantage of you, use the occasion to practice the servant life. Live generously.” (Jesus, Mt. 5:41-42)

If my wallet was stolen, I’d hardly think to chase the offender and hand him my husband’s wallet too. But it would mess with his mind for sure, and probably mine too. Jesus and his Father do this sort of thing over and over. There is justice, but there is way more grace. I never noticed, I never understood. I started to, and after a few months I sent a big flower bouquet instead of a lawyer.

I glimpse this again as John and I marked 10 years of marriage and again as we live near extended family for the first time. You blow me away when you do my dishes in spite of me snapping at you. You come to my house and clean up my messes, even though all I do at your house is make messes. We see each other’s crap because we see each other every day and there is no glossing over it. We are sometimes even hurt by it, and we either let the resentment and irritation build or give an unmerited double helping of love instead.

Every time I receive love instead of what I deserve, it stops me in my tracks, makes me consider grace and mercy, and points me to a loving God. When I give one person what they don’t deserve, I start seeing everyone around me a little differently, start being gentler with them.

My lost $2000 is pocket change. Being forgiven 70x7 times by you, more notable. Forgiving a murderer? Giving them a second chance?!? This stuff starts to shake me up. It’s radical. It’s different. I want to know more about the God that would inspire this insanity, the God who catches our attention by giving us what we don’t deserve, the God who tells us to give others what they don’t deserve.

Beautiful, bumps, and boxes...

Yet another beautiful weekend here in Baltimore... We explored yet another new trail near by, and Abby quickly declared it the best hike that our family has ever been on. It was absolutely beautiful, this weird mix of golden brown leaves on the ground and spring-green leaves still on tons of trees. With glimpses of the reservoir, hills, creeks to cross, Abby (again) commented that she felt like she was in a fairy land. Very cool.

In other big girl news this week, I've been coaxing, bribing, encouraging the girls to get out riding their bikes over the hills and through the bumpy sidewalks of our neighborhood. Abby does fine, Rachel needs the coaxing: "When you see a bump, pedal faster, faster, faster!" As opposed to freezing up and toppling over at the speed of a snail, that is. It struck me how it is counterintuitive to go FASTER when we see challenges ahead that we know will shake us up. And yet, just going for it is really the only way to get through sometimes. In fact, it's often quicker and easier when we don't slog through the difficulties.

Besides bike riding, the other life lesson that seems important to me lately is teaching the girls how to talk to God. Sheesh, what a task to even think I can undertake! This time, Rachel is the one who comes along easily, busting out words and gratitudes like a fish goes through water. Then again, she talks and talks loudly almost all day to anyone in the room. With Abby, it's been more of a puzzle to help her find a way that she is comfortable communicating. Turns out that free form out loud discussion isn't her thing. Sometimes it's writing, and it's always following some sort of pattern. I'm learning to be more flexible and creative - who cares "how" you communicate, as long as you're talking, you know?! (I read this interesting article yesterday about a woman who scribbled her prayers on paper and stuck them in a "God box" - that was her way of praying - kinda cool.)

And that's what is new with me this week! Soaking in the beauty of the woods, learning to hurry up a little towards the challenges ahead, and maybe starting to stuff my prayers into boxes.

P.S. These little guys are way into grabbing/chewing/holding each other's hands lately. Even across backpack carriers. It simply reduces them (and therefore the rest of us) to complete giggles. So great.

Praying less

Praying with less words that is. In the church that I grew up in, prayers were long, proper, and made more powerful by including lots of Bible verses. In another church I've called home as an adult, I learned that it was also OK to pray a lot less formally and the verses were often replaced with expecting that the Spirit might speak to me or someone else powerfully through the words that showed up in my prayer.

But in the last year of many changes and especially TWINS, things have often been more urgent and desperate. You know, holding a baby who will not fall back to sleep at night again, laying in bed listening to someone crying back to sleep, coming to the end of a tough day. Nothing spectacular, just beyond my control.

This is the stuff that drives me to ask for God's help. But with the burden of all these kids and responsibilities, the last thing I need weighing on me is the need to pray only in a way where I "help" God show up, either by Bible verses or being all spiritually in tune. (Maybe he'll show up in that way, but maybe not. Maybe that's not the point at all.)

So this is how I've been praying lately. "Rest." "Peace." (No, not rest in peace dear babies! :)) "Patience." I'm literally out of words/thoughts/energy/spirituality to say more. I think God gets the message just fine. Maybe he even prefers it that way sometimes.

Whispers. Worries. Worship. REPEAT.

Whispers. Worries. Worship. REPEAT.

That pretty much describes how my life of trying to believe God. I'd like to think that I had some great increase in faith over the last year, watching my baby boys be formed and born perfect. But no, not really, I'm still just a fairly faithless human being! I think all I've gained is a signpost to look at as I continue to bumble along through life. Here's how it went this time.

With these babies, I heard supernatural whispers that God is good and gives good. A glimpse in my mind of me holding a healthy baby boy in my arms. A friend who bravely shared a whisper she heard that my babies would be healthy, even a redemption and gift in place of the baby we lost years ago. I read in a psalm just weeks before the babies were born - "God makes his people strong, God gives his people peace." It stuck with me, though I wasn't sure if it was because of me or God.

Following all of those whispers, I worried and doubted. Am I hearing from God, or my own made up thoughts? Am I reading into the words, or are they divinely inspired for ME? God doesn't have to do good, will he in this situation? Will the good that he does fit my definition of good? And in the meantime, what do I say to him?

And then, in spite of my worries, God gave me something perfect and good, two healthy baby boys, born by a strengthened and at peace mama. The whispers were true. For at least a day, it was easy to go to church and worship God, (something I experienced very clearly when Rachel was born too). Standing there holding a tangible answer to many prayers and promises, I clutched my baby and sang "You are worthy of all our praises" and had no question marks attached.

Truth is, my faith in God is still pretty much pathetically puny, and always will be. But I've gained two little signposts (aka Daniel and James!) to look at that will point me back to the fact that God is GOOD and that I've experienced that.

They'll be coming with me, literally never far from my side as we start the cycle over again, looking for a new job and a new city!

God, help me listen for your whispers and give me faith to believe them. When I worry, remind me of your past goodness - especially through my kids. And when each adventure ends, let me never forget to say boldly say "thank you", full of confidence in you, if only for a fleeting moment of bigger-than-usual faith.

Spiritual solidarity - or not

My sister (hi Danielle!) just spent the last couple of weeks with us - since we've lived at least 2000 miles apart for 10 of the last 11 years, it is a rare treat to spend that much time together. My kids love her imagination and craziness. She and John get along great, whether it's commiserating as I go to bed early or playing bruising games of raquetball.


And of course, as sisters, she and I share so much in common - love of being in the kitchen, playing cards, being active outside, etc. etc. There are a few things we differ on, like the appeal of her beet salad and taste in movies/documentaries/books. Big deal though. One topic that came up a few times though raises some discord between us - spiritual stuff.

I have my beliefs about God, after life, values. She has hers. We're each seeking and pursuing truth, and feel the friction as we discuss it with each other. It's not fun, it's not comfortable for either of us. I think that we both long for some sort of sisterly solidarity in what we believe.

As I think about it, I think that most of us have that longing to agree with each other on spiritual matters. Maybe it's selfish as much as anything, a longing to be validated that I'm right about what I am believing or doing. Solidarity is community of feelings, purposes, responsibilities, interests. Belonging to community beats the alternative, discord (lack of agreement; conflict, dispute, friction).

Spiritual solidarity takes many forms. At one extreme, maybe it explains why people buy into cults, where there is so much agreement, even on details, that things get out of whack. Or what about the denominations or sects that each religion has, the ones we (fiercely?) align ourselves with? On the other end of the spectrum, maybe we seek solidarity in a non-sectarian practice or belief system, or non-denominational churches, or unitarian beliefs. Then we all agree that "non" is the best and rally around that. In one form or another, to one degree or another, it seems we're all seeking that spiritual solidarity - including in our families!

Maybe our search for the comforts of solidarity is a mis-prioritized search. I return to the words of Jesus that I've read lately, because he's the starting point of my own faith. "Let the dead bury their dead, you follow me." "What is it to you if he lives until I return, you follow me." "Seek first the kingdom of God."

Before I'm seeking the comforts of a spiritual community that agrees with me or I agree with, am I seeking and following God?

(That's me, out on a limb alone.) P.S.- Love you Danielle, thanks for visiting!

Inadequate writing - by me, by God

I don't know how long me and blogging will last. Number one, it's kind of a thing that everyone's doing, and I just don't do that very well (read: I am severely pop culture illiterate - music, TV, movies, etc. - despite my short-lived periodic attempts).

Number two, I start writing and often wish that I could lay it _all_ out there - not quite PostSecret, but maybe? Dumb idea, for many reasons, including that I might hurt myself, you, or at the very least be misunderstood. A conversation with each reader, face-to-face, would be so much more preferable. Writing (reading too) is just often inadequate, and I guess I didn't realize that until I started trying it. So we'll see.

So I'm thinking about all that, and I had a little epiphany this morning - writing gives such an incomplete picture of the author's mind - and maybe that is a glimpse into why the Bible also seems inadequate and contradictory. Before you heartily agree or disagree about the sufficiency or clarity of the Bible as giving insight to God, here are some further bits of thought.

Being honest, the Bible is a tough book. God's law as I'm reading in Exodus/Leviticus is pretty much blown by almost every character in the Old Testament at least (wives, gods, love, etc. etc.) Then there's Proverbs about the merits of wisdom and hard work, followed directly by Ecclesiastes, which existentially blows both of those nearly to bits. Or Esther, where God's name is never mentioned. That's just the tip of the iceberg, as the some of you could tell me.

So why so many issues in a text issued by God himself? I don't think it's so much the flawed people who wrote it and maybe messed it up. Maybe when God puts himself into writing he'd like to lay it all out there, like me but on an infinitely bigger and complicated scale. As it is, He exposes himself by putting anything in writing for us (because we proceed to pick it apart or have the final say on God). But if he laid it all out there, it might hurt us and it would definitely be misunderstood. A conversation will some day be so much better suited to understanding Him, I hope. His thoughts aren't flawed, but the characters are, both then and now. Is that some of the root of the contradictions?

It feels like I'm becoming more baffled by the Bible all the time - both as I read it and sometimes when I talk about it with others. God is BIG, and all I have is a tiny little book to explain His mind, plans, and 6000 years worth of stories. Maybe it's not so crazy that it seems like big chunks of God's thoughts are missing from the pages. I read this quote recently, and it challenges me to stay uncomfortable with what I find in God's writing.

"There is, in a word, nothing comfortable about the Bible - until we manage to get so used to it that we make it comfortable for ourselves... Have we ceased to question the book and be questioned by it? Have we ceased to fight it? Then perhaps our reading is no longer serious... Let us not be too sure we know the Bible just because we have learned not to be astonished at it, just because we have learned to not have problems with it." Philip Yancey quoting Thomas Merton's "Opening the Bible"

I'm just thinking out loud today, offering my opinions, severely lacking in knowledge to back it up. But whether you have seventeen Bibles around your house, or no current interest in ever owning one, maybe you with the most questions or discomfort might seriously have something right.

Laments are OK - or dare I say - "When cursing at God is OK"

Beside my bed this week are four half-finished books - The Africa Cookbook, Read Aloud Handbook, and The Bible Jesus Read (Philip Yancey), and the one-year Bible. I'm in a rut of starting books and not finishing them lately. These all happen to be decent, depending on my mood, so I don't know what to do!

So, about "laments". I feel like in the past year or so, I've had more questions and frustrations and confusions over Christian faith than peace, worship, and joy. A lot of Christians don't talk about that question stuff a whole lot though. Leading me to wonder - is something wrong with me, or Christianity?

Turns out, maybe neither. I finally found some justification for my discomforts in Yancey's book, as he discusses how 70% of the Psalms, the Bible's prayer book, are "laments" - a.k.a. the cursing psalms! OK, so I'm not the only frustrated person around! The old testament of the Bible, more than the new stuff we read more of today, is actually full of lots of confusion, disappointment, paradoxes.

So what is a "lament"? "We whine about what we have little control over, we lament what we believe ought to be changed. ...The psalmists clung to a belief in God's ultimate goodness, no matter how things appeared at the present, and cried out for justice."

To find God or even his scriptures less than comfortable or clear doesn't mean that I have to discount God or his goodness. But it also doesn't mean I have to sit quietly in confusion.

"To whom do you vocalize the most intense, irrational (inarticulate) anger? Would you do so with someone who could fire you or cast you out of a cherished position or relationship? Not likely, you don't trust them - ...that they would endure the depths of your disappointment, confusion... The person who hears your lament and far more bears your lament against them, paradoxically, is someone you deeply, wildly trust. The language of lament is oddly the shadow side of faith."

I hope that you have laments to offer to God like I do. And for me, I will continue to offer my "angry" prayers up, with confidence that doing so is often the best expression of trust and faith that I can offer to a God who is beyond figuring out.

Fading to gray...

In my teens, faith in God seemed obvious. Maybe a combination of youth and fundamental, literal Bible teachings at church made it seem that way. “God’s will” was something that could be fairly easily found, a black and white issue that you either followed or you didn’t.

A few years of college later, the lines started to gray. I met many other Christians who went to churches that met very differently from my own. And yet they were seeking God and seeking to serve Him too.

Yet a few more years have passed now, and the black and white of youth is no longer there. Is it just a matter of having grown up, having believed the wrong blacks and whites, or something else?

I read what Jesus says, and the words both about love and conflict seem beyond understanding. “Love your neighbor as yourself”, being the most important thing after loving God. Do I see Christians known for that? And then today, “Don’t imagine that I came to bring peace to the earth. I came not to bring peace, but a sword. I have come to set a man against his father… If you love your son or daughter more than me, you are not worthy of being mine.” (Mat. 10:34-37)

I go to a fairly “contemporary” church. The Bible is God’s truth, and yet there is some room for it to be taken as more than literal – leading to a dynamic church where women have some leadership roles, we work on the environment, we sing songs other than 1800’s-era hymns.

Then there is a good friend of mine, one who lives like Jesus would, I think. She shares her time, her art, her money all the time with the people in her neighborhood, her city, her world, yet she’s taking a break from organized church for a while. Seeking God outside of church? Others seek God in the “emergent church” – maybe the most contemporary type of church out there. Still others are drawn back to churches that are much more “orthodox”.

Finding different (if not quite opposing) well-informed perspectives on education, the environment, politics, history seems relatively easy. Finding those same perspectives on faith in God is really challenging me. Black and white perspectives are easy in a sense - they allow me to know if I'm right or wrong. On faith issues - my values, my purpose, my after-life - it is almost as if our lives depend on being "right". As I read about faith issues, the perspectives seem to be especially biased, charged, and so sometimes confusing. There is so much that I don’t know, don’t understand – but that I want to!

Where, in between the black, gray and white, would Jesus be walking, and taking me with him?

"Not to know is bad; not to wish to know is worse."—African proverb

A matter of perspective

Last post, I wrote about the movie "Religulous" - and how many aspects of the concepts of religion and faith can indeed seem ridiculous. Sometimes dramatic or tragic experiences change that idea. But maybe a chance for a different perspective is closer than I realize.

My dad commented - "I think a lack of faith is also a result of having too much of a city life. If all you ever see is what man has done, you can miss out on what God has done." I connected with that. I'd never really thought of it that way. It's places like home and sometimes even church, stuck inside of four beige walls, that I lose perspective.

So here's when the perspective changes - on a family camping trip, Nov. 4 this year. Our celebration of Election Day was to run for the woods!

Perspective on a grand scale. Since I was a kid, I have loved the outdoors - many childhood hikes with my own family have now turned into taking my own kids to parks and on hikes in literally every place that we visit. I never realized it, but I never wonder if God exists on those hikes. It just seems obvious that Someone infinitely bigger than me has created the mountains, rivers, creatures, etc. around me. In those moments, it is OK to not understand that Someone. I usually just hike and enjoy the scenery!


Perspective on a tiny scale. Also since I was a kid, I have been also been fascinated by small things in science. This fascination has been reawakened this year as I have been teaching a few chapters of biochemistry to my pre-nursing students. When I read and teach about the intricacies of how changing just a few atoms can alter a drug or the expression of a gene, I am in awe of the details, inspired to learn more. (I just ordered a college Biochemistry book, actually, being a happy nerd.) Just like in the great outdoors, I don't wonder if God exists when I study the tiniest details. I'm just amazed at how brilliantly each atom works together, at the wisdom of Someone who got it all just right.

God, open my eyes to glimpse your bigness and your wisdom. Not even to understand them, but just to glimpse a world and plan and meaning that is broader, more ordered, more amazing than I can even imagine.

"Religulous"

Religion. Ridiculous. It's actually the title of a real movie (that I haven't seen - yet) out in some theaters. I saw an interview with Bill Maher, the comedian star, on the Daily Show (DS) a few weeks ago, and I've been thinking about it ever since. The movie is more or less a religious satire, probing peoples' certainty about their own religions.

I was a little put off when the DS interview began, thinking, "How can you just go turn religion into a word and movie called ridiculous?!" Followed shortly by - "Hmm, but to be honest, I do agree that religion/faith can seem fairly absurd, if you step back and look from outside ."

Just as I was writing off Maher as a cocky and wealthy not-quite-athiest, he won me over with what I thought was a pretty profound statement. Halfway through, he said "I understand that not having faith is a luxury of a good life. If you're in prison and a guy says "all I have is Jesus," I get that." I realized that as I find myself sorting through aspects of my own faith this fall, it is only because my life is luxurious and good.

Fast forward. Over the Thanksgiving holiday, a one-year-old friend of ours had a severe seizure out of nowhere, and he spent the most of the weekend in ICU. At the end of the holiday weekend, I watched a TV movie (24) about young boys being conscripted into rebel militias in Africa. On a personal scale, and on a big-picture global scale, both of those situations gave me an in-your-face reminder of how life is not always so good.

Religion (or better put, faith?) may be ridiculous. Until we realize that we need it. When I need someone bigger than the world to fix the injustices of nations. When I needed peace and comfort as I watched my mother come to the end of her earthly life. When I cry out for healing for a friend or their child.

I don't have a catchy closing thought, because there are plenty of things on this topic that are still very fuzzy to me. I'll just observe that for today, life is not quite luxurious enough for me to throw in the towel and say it's all "religulous".

Daily Show interview re: Religulous
Other movies that have provoked these thoughts over the past year - Hotel Rwanda, The Last King of Scotland, Blood Diamond

Too little faith

It is difficult for me to write about my faith in God. Why? On one day, it is lacking. I study science, and I am more unsure all the time what to think about the beginnings of the world. On another day, I don't want the stereotypes of Christians, God, or the Bible to turn you off to reading or considering. On yet another day, I am sure that something I read in the Bible impresses powerfully on my heart, and yet am also aware how absurd it sounds that a God in heaven could really have left us a spiritually alive book. I long to have an unshakable confidence and faith in my God, but I don't.

Today is a day where my faith falters, and yet God's words somehow encourage my heart. Two of Jesus' good friends, Peter and Thomas, watched a real life flesh-and-blood Jesus for three years. They saw his miraculous healings, heard the first-person version of the Jesus' words. While Jesus stood trial, just hours before he would be killed, Peter denied that he knew Jesus, that he'd ever been with him. Once, twice, three times, all within around two hours, he did this with Jesus only around a stone's throw away. Just before that, Jesus himself cried out in prayer - more or less - Father, please don't make me go through with this! Almost nothing about that makes sense to me. Just a bit later, as he was dying, he called out, "My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?" Thomas, well, he is forever known as "doubting Thomas" - and all because he wouldn't believe the rumors that Jesus was resurrected until he saw him for himself. Not that unreasonable, really.

In these three people, who had much more real experiences with God than I have, I see embarrassment, fear, despair, loneliness, doubt. Their faith failures and struggles happened. I identify with that. Their faith failures and struggles were also not the end of the story of how God used them.

Jesus said this to Peter, knowing that Peter would deny him, but before it happened. "...Stay on your toes. Satan has tried his best to separate all of you from me, like chaff from wheat. Simon (Peter), I've prayed for you in particular that you not give in or give out [that your faith would not fail]. When you have come through the time of testing, turn to your companions and give them a fresh start." Luke 22:31-32

Jesus, pray that for me.

Scared of what He might do to me

I grew up in a Christian family, and have had faith in God for most moments of my life. I've seen his faithfulness and goodness demonstrated to me over and over. Yet, almost every time that I go to church and sing a song like "May your rule and reign take over me, for I long just to please You...", I have to change the words in my head to something like - "Make me want your rule and reign...". Because I can't honestly "mean" the lyrics otherwise.

Why? Because I am afraid. I am afraid that life with God is going to be a hard (miserable?!) life. It's got potential to be a life of suffering, pain, embarrassment, brutal character formation, giving up all the things that I enjoy to serve a lot at church, and on and on. Some of that is true, and some of that we do to ourselves as we mess up the way that God intended us to live. But I'm beginning to glimpse this year that maybe the big invisible God is not out to make my life miserable like I think.

I tell Abby and Rachel (my little girls) that God is a Big Daddy, even bigger than their own big daddy. (Although I don't always know what to make of God, I know that he's still worth experiencing for my girls...). Oddly, when I think about the scary version of God that I just finished explaining, it doesn't mesh very well with the versions of dads that I experience - my own dad, and John as a dad to our kids.

Asked last night what pleases them or brings them happiness in their kids, this is what those two dads had to say. I've had to shorten their words greatly, because these dads have plenty to say about what their kids do that make them happy. (thanks for sharing to my two favorite guys)

John - "More than anything, seeing them being happy... Seeing Abby being caring, which is who she is. Seeing Rachel being energetic, which is so much of who she is..."

Dad - "The quality of character that each [of you] has demonstrated... Joanna demonstrating caring and a strong moral compass.... Joel's strong sense of loyalty, ability to face difficulties without complaint... Danielle's tenacity, work ethic, strong sense of self..."

Turns out that what dads want for their kids is for them to be joyful in life, to demonstrate character in a variety of situations, to excel at being themselves and bringing joy to others as they do. The "being" stands out more than the "doing". Pain, embarrassment, monotonous chores around the house for the kids - these dads don't get a thrill out of those things for their kids.

In the words of two dads, I find some spoken words that reflect what my God might say to me if He were here. Maybe it might go something like this - "Joanna, when I see you being happy, enjoying your family, out running, baking cookies - it makes me smile. When I see that you care for those around you, your excellence and hard work at home and work, that pleases me..." Those things, I could keep on doing. God, keep convincing me of your love and showing that I do not need to be afraid of life with you.

Ask your dad what makes him happy about his kid. And know that another Big Daddy would probably say the same.