Perspective

²per·spec·tive

noun \pər-ˈspek-tiv\

b :  the capacity to view things in their true relations or relative importance <trying to maintain my perspective>

This past weekend my husband and I flew to D.C. for a cousin’s wedding. Honestly, up until a month ago, we had decided not to go. We felt it was too expensive—especially for our family of four. But, upon further reflection, my husband and I looked back at our own wedding day and remembered that having so many family and friends there to celebrate with us was pure blessing. 

Our first good decision was to forget about the cost of the trip and dwell on the fact that we love our cousins and wanted to celebrate with them. That first good decision was followed by our second good decision—to leave the kids at home with Grandma.

We had a blast and because of that trip I was able to gain perspective on a huge part of my life; I really love my husband—a lot. On the trip, I realized that we are more than the parents of Jack and Katie. We are married because we are devoted to each other. My husband is my best friend, and I don’t just love him, I like him.

It’s all about perspective, isn’t it? For a few days, I was able to step out of my role as stay-at-home mom  and it felt good. And as our plane soared high above the earth carrying us back home, I looked down, not upon the ground but upon my own life. 

I became conscious of the fact that it’s healthy, even necessary, to step out of one’s daily routine. It’s kind of like flying above the everyday life we sometimes trudge through and gaining perspective as we gaze down at the lives we’ve created for ourselves. 

²per·spec·tive

noun \pər-ˈspek-tiv\

b :  the capacity to view things in their true relations or relative importance <trying to maintain my perspective>

So the next time you get to step away from your day-to-day routine, enjoy that out-of-body experience that is perspective. Glance down at your life and realize that you are more than the sum of your parts. As you soar above the monotony of everyday life, remember what’s important, truly important, and let that be your guide everyday.

it's a family thing

Let’s play a little guessing game, shall we? After his resurrection what message does Jesus give Mary Magdalene to report to the disciples? Yes, you can cheat and look in your bible (John 20:17) but be prepared, it’s pretty awesome and a detail I never paid much attention to—until now.

. . . [Go] find my brothers and tell them that I am ascending to my Father and your Father, my God and your God.

In the past, I really hadn’t thought too much about those above words. But lately when I’ve read the resurrection story, I’ve been amazed by something. The very first message Jesus has for his disciples is all about relationship, namely ours, with his God and with his Father. 

Not only that, but when Jesus gives Mary the message he tells her to “go find his brothers” rather than referring to his followers as disciples or even his friends. Brothers and sisters signifies a deeper relationship, a stronger bond. It’s what Jesus’ mission and purpose were all about—to bring us back into the family, God’s family. 

You see Jesus had the right to call God his Father. The disciples knew that. They got it. Who could perform such miracles and preach with such authority unless God was truly with him?

And though in the beginning humans had the privilege of calling God our Father that relationship came undone in a garden. Think about it. God walked with Adam and Eve. He talked with them. He laughed with them—gave them gifts and things to do. In other words, they had a relationship. But as time marched on that bond began to unravel.

Adam and Eve got kicked out of the garden and that was just the beginning of the sad story about how we lost our Father—how we lost our God. Over time we fooled ourselves into thinking that God was a distant deity living in a land far, far away.

But when Jesus gave that first Easter message, we see what his whole calling, his whole purpose in life was about. He wanted to find God’s lost kids, namely you and I, and bring us home. 

. . . [Go] find my brothers and tell them that I am ascending to my Father and your Father, my God and your God.

I bet Jesus gave those instructions to Mary with a smile on his face. He had done it! He had reunited God and his children. Everything he’d come to do, every miracle he’d performed, every word spoken, the suffering, the cross, and now the empty tomb all led up to this miraculous event, Jesus brought us back into the family.

So when you sit in church this Sunday, and I hope you’re able to, don’t just skim over this central part of the Story letting it get lost in all the seemingly more important details. Don’t be deceived into thinking the instructions Jesus gave to Mary are trite and insignificant. Listen to them. Let them sink in. Jesus brought us back to God. Jesus brought us back to our Father. 

It’s the best family reunion ever and it gives me goose bumps just thinking about it. Hope it does the same for you. Happy Easter!

crazy technology

Last night after a debacle that occurred simply because I was trying to get my wordpress website up and running, I have once again been reminded of two important truths. Number one; I hate technology and two; I have a husband who has a very generous nature.

So, I need to get my website up and running and since my husband is so busy these days, I decided to get a service from a site that would not only assist me in setting up my site but also in running it.

I chose to buy this service for a couple of reasons, I wanted assistance in setting the site up, true, but I also knew I was going to need help in the future. I didn’t want to have to always rely on someone else to figure out how to do stuff on my website. (I think the word “stuff” indicates just how clueless I am when it comes to technology.)

Here’s the thing. The site made their services look so inexpensive—showing how much I would pay on a monthly basis. It seemed so reasonable. What I didn’t realize is that they would be charging me upfront for three full years. By the time I realized this, it was too late. 

The worst part is that it didn’t help me at all. Hours later, okay probably more like fifteen minutes later, I was as confused as ever and had come no closer to setting up my site than before. My shoulders were tense. My brain was fried, and I felt beyond discouraged. 

With complete frustration written all over my face, I went down and told my hubby what I’d done. He took one look at my stressed, irritated self gave me a hug and said, “Honey you’re a writer, not a computer programmer.” Of course he meant it in the best possible way, and, I have to say, truer words were never spoken.

When John and I were first married, I had a computer that I had inherited from my mom. John referred to it fondly in one of two ways—the “dinosaur” or my adding machine. According to him, I would still be using that computer if it weren’t for his insistence that I upgrade. 

A few weeks back, I was visiting with a friend and we were discussing how fast technology comes out these days. It seems like within weeks, my iphone five (if that’s what it is) has become obsolete. Of course I am exaggerating, but for someone who needs at least a year to figure new gadgets out, it’s exhausting.

And it seems like things come out so fast that they still have all these little glitches. (I’m assuming that’s what upgrades are for). But my question is, why not just make stuff really good and sound in the first place?

Even as I write this my shoulders are tensing up and my nostrils are flaring, so this is where I’ll sign off leaving you with one last thought; my husband is truly correct. It is a good thing I have some writing skills. I don’t think a career in technology would ever pan out for me.

cuddles vs. calendars

I am a checklist junkie. I love to make a list and follow it to a T. It’s so fun to get out a pen and make a big ol’ checkmark each time I accomplish something on my list. For me, it’s an almost euphoric experience—one that brings me great satisfaction.

Lately, though, I’ve been rethinking this whole checklist thing. Not that I’m going to get rid of them. No, I love them way too much for that. But sometimes I wonder if in the midst of checking off my daily duties, I forget something that probably should have been at the top of my list—spending time with my family.

Take for example, my husband. When he’s at work, I think about calling him several times a day wanting to share this or that moment with him, or just say hi and tell him I love him. But the moment my husband gets home from work, he turns into the invisible man. After all, I’ve got a checklist to follow and, guess what, he’s not on it. 

I think about my kids in this light, too. They are growing up way too fast. It seems like if I blink I miss something. These changes remind me that there won’t always be a little girl who wants to play ponies with her mommy or a little boy who wants to cuddle before he falls asleep. 

You see, I think back to when my kids were babies and a sense of regret rises up. I had checklists back then, too. And quite frankly, I followed them a little too religiously. In the midst of making lists and checking them twice, I missed things, important things.

Yes, I accomplished a great deal by staying the course and finishing my duties, but I look back now and feel like I cheated myself out of something precious, cuddling time—holding my babies close to my heart as much as I could. Yea, I sure wish I could have a do-over when it comes to those baby days.

But since regret’s never done me any good, I’m trying a different approach. No, I can’t go back and fix my mistakes, but I can learn from them. 

When my hubby walks through that door, I make an effort to greet him with a hug and a kiss, letting him know how glad I am that he’s home. And even if it’s only for the briefest of moments, we fill each other in on our days. The conversations can be short, but that’s okay. What matters is that I set my checklist aside and concentrate on what’s really important.

When my baby girl asks me to play ponies, I make an effort to drop what I’m doing and play pretend.  Though I can’t say playing ponies is one of my favorite things to do, I know it’s important to her. So in spite of my bad attitude, I make a sincere effort to get my pony groove on and just take time to have fun.

Yesterday, I sat down and told my son story after story about when I was little. He absolutely loves it when I share anecdotes from my past. Just as I finish up with one, he begs for another.

When I was done telling stories, our conversation turned to heavenly things. I asked him if he thought we’d be wrinkly and old in heaven. His response was pretty profound. “Mom,” he said, “I think we will be mature in heaven, but we won’t look old.”

Our discussion continued on much the same vein when I asked how he thought we’ll feel when we get to heaven. My wise eight-year-old’s response; “I think we’ll be tired and worn out, but Jesus will make us feel better.” 

Just think, if all I’d done yesterday was make myself a slave to that checklist, I’d have missed out on a pretty special conversation.

Call it making an investment. Investing in my relationships knowing that what I have now won’t last forever. In the midst of all I have to do in a day, I’m going to remember that sometimes the things that aren’t on my checklist, are the most important things I’ll do all day.

No, I’ll never get rid of my checklists. After all, they do give structure and order to my day. But now when I have the opportunity, I’ll let the truly important things override all of the others, making my lists look a little more like this:

Give my husband and kids hugs and kisses before they head out the door—check.

And a little less like this:

Finish my latest blog post—check.