Sexagesima Sunday

Rev. Jon C. Olson

23 February 2014

Today, Sexagesisma, some 60 days before Easter, the Church continues her preparation for a real conversion of heart and mind during the forty days of Lent.  Today is about our falling away from God while God is constantly calling us back by His Word.  Today is about not giving up hope in the midst of struggle, suffering and sin.  Today’s readings remind us that such a return is possible only “By the Word alone.” 

       You see, the Word of God is not lifeless.  It isn’t just a bunch data or a collection of information.  The Word of God is not an assembly of centuries of man’s head knowledge.  The Word of God is also not something that depends on anybody’s interpretation.  Listen to how God’s Word is described in today’s readings.
       In Isaiah we heard that just like the rain and the snow descend from heaven and doesn’t return without doing what they were sent to do, causing the earth to bud and supplying seed for the sower and bread for the eater – so too it is that the Word that goes forth from the mouth of God continues to do what it says, even to this very day.  Listen to His promise: the Word, “…shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose.”
        What a promise that is!  His Word has the power to do what God sends it to do.  And what He sends it to do is to bring us to repentance and awaken and keep us in saving faith.  The Word of God has the power in and of itself to do that.
        Or think of how the Word of God is described in Hebrews 4.
        For the Word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. (Hebrews 4:12) 
        The Word of God is compared to a weapon used to kill in war.  Which is to say that the Word of God that enters in through the ear and lodges itself in the heart has the power in and of itself to kill.  It kills by slicing and peeling away layers of sin in ways that you and I do not expect.  There’s no escaping the fact that when we listen and hear God’s Word there are some Words so directly and sharply aimed at their target that the Word of God causes us to drop to our knees in the realization of our need for God’s mercy.  Mercy that God is eager to pour out upon us.  Mercy that comes solely through that same Word of God that pierced our hearts.  God’s greatest love is to apply the healing ointment of grace upon the sin—filled and infected wounds revealed by His Word.  He does so by sticking His Law & Gospel into our ears and pouring into our wounds the blood of Christ.
        Understanding that the Word of God does what it says is foundational to understanding today’s Gospel lesson.  Jesus, of course, is the sower.  He plants His Word into all kinds of soil, throws it out for whoever will bother to give a listen.  But here’s the confusing thing: not all who hear the Word of God end up being saved.  This is difficult for us to stomach.  Because if the Word of God accomplishes what God sent it to do, why do so many of our family, friends and neighbors reject and turn away from it?
        Make no mistake about it: the Word of God has real power.  Every time it is preached, read, and heard, God the Holy Spirit is present in the Word seeking to give the gift of repentant faith.  But the gift is always a gift.  And as a gift we can reject it.  In today’s Gospel Jesus warns against that rejection.  It can happen in a variety of ways.
        First, by inattentive listening.  Just sitting in church and letting the Word float by your ears, or bounce around in the ear canal or lightly tap your ear drums, but never really listening to it and letting it sink into your mind and heart.  Or, the Word can go in one ear and out the other.  What’s really going on there, Jesus says, is that Satan snatches the Word away before it can bear fruit, before it can do what it has the power to do.  If Satan can keep you day-dreaming during church, he’s already won. 
        Then there’s the listening that hears and rejoices, believes and thanks God, only in life’s good moments.  And when the bad-times come along – and they always do – the person lets go of the Word and their faith withers up and can die.  One of the purposes of hearing the Word in good times is to store up in your heart and mind those passages that will get your through the terrible times with your faith intact.  The Word has the power to do it, provided we don’t let it go.  So often this happens when tragedy comes – people stop going to church, stop listening to the Word, and then they’re surprised when their faith grows weaker and weaker and finally dies.  Remember: faith is NEVER something you can keep alive inside yourself.  It only comes from continuously hearing and holding the active Word of God.
        Next, our Lord reminds us that even folks who listen to the Word attentively, can still lose it, and so also their faith, when their faith in Jesus is crowded out of their lives.  Crowded out by what?  Jesus speaks of the cares, riches and pleasures of this life.  Cares and riches often go together: “Gotta finish that home renovation project. No time for the Word this week.”  Pleasures?  “But pastor, you know that we spend the weekend at the lake; our kids had ballgames; we have so little family together that we like to keep as many Sundays as we can during the summer just for us.”  "No time to read my Bible or Catechism today; too busy shooting bad guys on the computer, or watching great faith building TV shows like “House of Cards” or “The Walking Dead”, or whatever."  What do all these excuses have in common?  One thing: the rejection of the Word of God, squeezing it into an ever smaller place in our lives until at last we don’t hear it at all.  I am not saying you and I cannot do those things!  What I am saying is that there comes a time to sit aside the pleasures and games of this life for serious business of sin and death.  No one is too busy to go to church a little more than twice a week for a month during Lent.  Treating the third commandment to keep the Sabbath Day as though it is optional, instead of God’s will for us is to set yourself on a dangerous path.
        (At this point I went off script and discussed the 40th Anniversary of "Seminex" and the necessity of the laity learning the doctrine of the church. And how this was especially so since it was the pastors & professors at the seminary who led the seminary in St. Louis off the path of Holy Scripture. "The laity knowing the Bible was a huge factor in surviving the Battle of the Bible". Today's laity knowing the teachings of the Bible is especially important as the culture is pressing in on the walls of the church to change her teachings.)

If this is how Christian congregations treat the Third Commandment, it really isn’t any surprise then that other commandments such as the Fifth which says that we are not to murder innocent babies in the womb, or the Sixth commandment dealing with sexual ethics and the institution of marriage also become optional.  Do not think that congregations (and I include pastors) can continue neglecting God’s word or taking it for granted because you belong to a so-called “conservative” church body.  It is every Christian’s duty, not just the pastors, to know what the Word of God says concerning these and many other Biblical teachings. 

        And then our Lord reminds us, (thankfully!)  that it is possible to hear His Word in such a way that it bears abundant fruit.  He describes those hearts that hear and hold fast the Word as honest and good.  How did those hearts get to be honest and good?  Precisely by hearing and holding the Word.  If, as the Apostle Paul says, faith is what cleanses the heart, and faith comes by hearing the Word of God, then our hearts can do nothing but be “honest and good”.
        Lent is right around the corner.  We will be walking with Jesus up to Jerusalem.  We will stand at the foot of the Cross and behold Him as He takes the sin of the world on His back and bears it before His Father– including the sin of our not hearing the Word, thinking other things in life are more important that what the God who created us has to say to us.  He will bear that sin and all sins in His body.  And He does it NOT so that we can rejoice that He forgives us and then go on our merry way continuing to ignore God’s Word.  He does it so that we might be forgiven and so spiritually grow as grateful and faithful hearers of the Word.  He does it so that His people can share God’s Word with others who have never heard what it says concerning all life being precious.  That’s what the Lenten Midweek Services are available for: to give even more opportunity for the Word of God to have its way with you and to teach you into all Truth. 
        From the garden, to the cross, to the empty tomb, and from the glorified body of your Lord at the right of the Father, the Word that He speaks is His eternal word of His eternal love for you.  The God who created and formed you wants you with all His heart to share in His unending life, to enjoy Him and His presence forever. The Word even gives the gift of God’s presence now– just as it does when the almighty Word of Jesus causes the bread and wine to be what He declares them: His body and blood, for the forgiveness of sins. 
        God speaks only by His Word.  Only by His Word comes renewal.  Will you listen when He speaks?  Will you let His Word be planted inside of you and grow inside of you that you may abide in Your Savior until death and through death to the life that never ends?  That’s what God wants and His Word has the power to do it.  “He who has ears to hear, let him hear!”

Marriage is a Love-ly Gift -- Valentine's Day Edition

Papa and I are nearing our the nine-and-a-half-year mark of our marriage. How do I know this?

Because our half anniversary falls on Valentine's Day. Pretty nifty, huh? (For those of you doing the math, that puts our anniversary date on August 14. Nope, we didn't pick it so the half-date would fall on the day typically thought of as one for lovers, but it gave it a certain romantic cachet. And that way I could finish undergrad and Papa could be between things in his seminary schedule.)

Our first Valentine's Day as a married couple found us hosting a visiting pastor to Papa's vicarage congregation. He was nice, and we liked (and still like) hosting, but...it was Valentine's Day. And we were six months into our marriage. I think you can fill in the blanks.

Look at those newlywed goo-goo eyes! And Papa's hair!
...and that dress I'll never fit into again.

Well, we survived. And other Valentine's Days found us alternately working, studying, dealing with pregnancy symptoms, wiping up baby spit, dealing with pastoral care concerns, washing dishes, sorting laundry, and generally looking significantly less attractive than we did during our dating and engagement days (well, probably just me. Papa rarely looks anything less than handsome. But I suppose I'm a little biased). In other words, the day found us dealing with Life generally. We've also exchanged sappy cards, enjoyed candlelit dinners, and received beautiful bouquets (okay, just me on that one). One time I found a post-it love note from Papa. And honestly, both the mundane and romantic ways of marking Valentine's Day are good. Really! So you, like any other normal person, ask "What do you mean, Emommy?" (Go ahead; say it. You know you want to.)

Well, let's consider a little history. Valentine, an early Christian martyr, supposedly left an encouraging note for his jailer's child before he was killed. This note became the inspiration for those mass-produced cards sold by the boatload this time of year. But Valentine's gesture hardly fits our image of a day for lovey-dovey chocolate-swapping goo-goo-eyed lovers. Rather, it reminds us that love is a gift, one steeped in selflessness. No one, not even an outwardly good man, can truly love a man who's responsible for leading him to (or imprisoning him until) his death--unless that man has been given the ability to love his neighbor out of the incredible sacrificial love His Savior has first shown to him.

Love is Christ. Christ, who died for us and suffered for us, who totally renounced Himself so that we might live. This gift manifests a ripple-effect throughout our lives, sometimes in glorious moments, like weddings. But it also comes in everyday moments, like finding post-its and ironing shirts and scrubbing toilets (yes, you read that right).

So with this in mind, I appreciate this day mostly because it reminds me of what a gift Papa and I have been given in our marriage. God has used the vehicle of marriage to deliver us a measure of His regard for us. And we, then, are able to love each other, and the children we have been given, day in and day out. As the years pass, I am more and more grateful for Papa, and for our marriage, as a source of love that is pure gift. I don't receive love because I've been especially lovable (and usually, I am far away from lovable. Just try talking to me before I've had coffee in the morning. I mean that rhetorically, of course. Don't actually try it.). I don't receive love because people owe it to me (they don't). Yet I get it anyway. And marriage--this wonderful, mysterious relationship that God created and Christ blessed--is a major way that I receive it. And wouldn't you know? With every day and month and year that passes, love grows between us. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer so aptly put it, "It is not your love that sustains your marriage, but ... your marriage that sustains your love."

I thank God for our marriage that sustains our love.

Because love lasts ALL year. Even on holidays when we dress like fictional characters.
Well, Cardinals players and National Park Rangers are real. 

The Transfiguration of Our Lord

Gerard David , "The Transfiguration"

The transfiguration of our Lord is not the same as an extreme makeover.  Jesus was not remade or changed into something that He was not already.  Instead, before our very eyes Jesus is revealing His Divinity!  

The disciples learned that there was more to Jesus than what first meets the eye.  Jesus changes, metamorphasizes, transfigures.  And in this physical change, a revealing of Who Jesus is happens.  We catch a glimpse of the divine glory of Jesus.  And when this glory of the LORD is revealed the identity of Who’s standing there in human flesh is crystal clear:  God Himself. 

With Jesus there’s more than you bargained for.  As the man Jesus stood upon the mountain with Peter, James, and John, one could say that His divinity leaks out on purpose for the benefit of Peter, James and John and even us!  Through His electrifying face, and His white-like-lightning clothes, God the Father wants witnesses to see that the man named Jesus is also God in the flesh, the one true God.  All the fullness of the godhead dwells fully in the body of Jesus, and on this mountain a little bit of the godhead shows through to the disciples.  So, if you want to know where God is, there’s Jesus.  

And that is not all that Jesus shows us at His Transfiguration.  Jesus says,

Tell no one the vision, until the Son of Man is raised from the dead. (Matthew 17:9) 

You’d think Jesus would zero in and explain about his flesh becoming white like when you stare into the sun.  But He does not.  Instead Jesus brings up a seemingly whole different topic; about being raised from the dead?  Jesus takes the disciples attention away from the movie-like special effects that had just taken place, and redirects the disciples attention to a prediction concerning His own death and resurrection.  God in Jesus did not come to earth for the primary purpose of being transfigured.  God in Jesus comes to save us from our sins.  He will hang dead on the Cross.  The transfiguration is just one event in the life of Jesus come to earth.  The highpoint of Jesus coming to earth is when we behold the God-Man Jesus going to die for sinners.  Jesus has come to lead us from the bondage of sin, death and the devil into the Promised Land of sins forgiven and a life forever with Him in heaven.   
            Heaven came down to earth that day when Jesus is glorified.  The most important prophets of the Old Testament, Moses and Elijah, are there.  They talk with Jesus most likely about His dying for the world, which would fulfill the promises of the Old Testament.  Imagine watching this conversation occur in real time!  Peter, James, and John must have been sitting on the edge of their seats.  Eyes wide open.  Taking notes feverishly. Right?  Wrong!
            We know from St. Luke’s account of the Transfiguration that Peter, James and John had fallen asleep. (Luke 9:32)  They were sleepy followers of Jesus.  They were awakened when they heard Moses, Elijah and Jesus talking to each other.  I don’t feel so bad now when people get sleepy in church.  Even Jesus closest disciples fell asleep.

Heaven came down to earth that day on the mountain.  And the disciples were asleep.  Things aren’t much different today.  The same Jesus appears to us through Moses and Elijah, the Law and the Prophets—His Word.  Jesus is in our midst in the power and glory of His death and resurrection.  He who has conquered sin, death, and hell is here.  In our very midst.  He preaches His Word.  He forgives our sin.  He gives us His Body and Blood.  And we (pastors included), like the three disciples, grow sleepy.  Bored.  In the very presence of God.
            The drowsiness is not because we stayed up too late.  It’s not because the church service isn’t exciting or the pastor’s sermon is boring (although perhaps it may be sometimes).  The sleepiness is due to our sinful nature, the drowsiness of the old Adam in us.  The problem is within ourselves.  Have you ever had it happen that every time you commit yourself to reading a bit of the Bible or your favorite devotion that your eyes get heavy?  And if not literally heavy from lack of sleep, how about just simply distracted and instead focused in upon the events happening in your life instead of Jesus happening in your life?

This drowsiness or sleepiness or even laziness or whatever you want to call it, is your sinful nature that wants you to avoid Jesus and especially His death for you.  Drowsiness of faith is the avoidance of Christ crucified for sinners.

            Is it no surprise then, that Peter declares that he wants His church the way He likes it, an exciting and special effects filled, not boring and unmoved, glorified Jesus?

Lord, it is good that we are here. If you wish, I will make three tents here, one for you and one for Moses and one for Elijah.” (Matthew 17:4)           

As the spokesman of the disciples, Peter speaks for James and John too when he tells Jesus that he wants this special moment with Moses and Elijah never to end.  Peter wants Jesus to stay in His glory on this mountain and live there forever.  Literally, Peter wants that mountain-top-experience with Jesus to go on forever.  The disciples want Jesus to never leave the mountain and especially not go to Jerusalem.  They want Jesus not to go to the city where they murder the prophets.  All three know that death awaits Jesus in Jerusalem.  They want a Church that does not talk about sin and death.  Do you know what that would have meant?  No Calvary.  No cross.  No suffering and death for you and for me.  No salvation for anyone.  No wonder that in St. Luke’s account of the Transfiguration Luke adds that his Peter didn’t know what in the world he was talking about. (Luke 9:33)
            Too much drowsiness or too much business.  Either way we’re intent on avoiding Jesus.  We are intent on avoiding the Transfiguration of Our Lord.  Avoiding heaven come down to the earth.  Choosing not to attend the Divine Service, Bible Class, or even to read the Word of God.  We would rather move heaven and earth to have fun, have family time, get more money in the bank, pull the covers up over our heads, work on the house, or whatever else we can be busy with.  Why is that?  Because the god of bed, god of cash, god of coach, god of games, god of fun, god of home improvement, god of retirement, god of self, all demand our total and undivided attention.

But Pastor Olson, ‘I’m here at church.  I’m not at home or at church sleeping.  Here I am, I did my part.’  Really?  One hour a week?  God says that you shall love the Lord your God with your whole heart?  This means all the time, with undivided attention.  Have you forgiven your neighbor as you have been forgiven?  Every, single, time?  Have you loved your neighbor by helping every person you have come across who is in need?  Do you always put the best construction on people’s behavior?  Have you not spoken behind another person’s back?  Stop keeping these sins, these idols, from Jesus to forgive.   
            There is no true Sabbath rest with these gods hidden in your pockets.  Do you think that God does not know?  Why does God give you a pastor to call you out on them?  Because these pet sins prohibit you from hearing Christ’s Words.  That’s your sinful nature; the old Adam at work driving us to drowsiness and business.  You may get away with following other gods for a while, but eventually, all false gods share their time with no one.  You will end up serving them religiously.  No questions asked.  And by these false gods Satan slowly darkens our hearts and deafens our ears to Jesus.  We fear them.  We love them.  We trust them and not Jesus.  Repent.        

God the Father is gracious.  He is merciful.  He surrounds the disciples with His glory.  They can’t see anything else to distract them.  God the Father’s sermon is short and to the point.  It’s the same sermon He preached at His Son’s Baptism.  “This is My Son.  My chosen One.  Listen to Him.”  Hear His words.  His words are Spirit and life.  Hear His words.  He alone has the words of eternal life.
            And when the sermon’s over Jesus stands alone.  Moses and Elijah are gone.  Good thing.  They can’t save us.  Only Jesus and His words remain and these Words alone open heaven to us.  Jesus alone has the forgiveness that takes away your sin.  Jesus alone has the power to raise you from the dead.
            God is so gracious to us.  Although we don’t see Jesus as Peter, James, and John did on the mountain He still comes to be among us.  It is a little different when He comes these days.  God is somewhat hidden.  Yet He still comes graciously.  God does not come to give us what we deserve because of our idolatry.  God comes through His Son Jesus to forgive our sins of idolatry.  He comes graciously in the water of Baptism to create faith; through the preached Word to sustain that faith; the bread that is His Body; the wine that is His Blood to sustain and stamp your faith with the seal of His promise of life everlasting.  Revealing His glory, underneath bread and wine.  The God who forgives is for you and with you, even right now.

The same Jesus that lit up on the mountain now shines in your hearts because He placed Himself there through the Word He speaks into your ears.  And one day soon we too will shine in the visible radiance of Jesus with Moses and Elijah, Peter, James, and John, the angels, the archangels, and all the company of heaven.  That’s the resurrection of the body on the Last Day called Easter Sunday.  Until that Resurrection Day, Lord willing, the Church has three Sundays before Ash Wednesday, some  weeks of Lent, and an Easter to celebrate.
            Until He comes on the Last Day we listen to Him in His Word and Sacraments:  the Divine Service -- heaven on earth, Jesus with us and for us, until we go to be with Him forever. In the Name of Jesus.               Rev. Jon C. Olson

9 February 2014

Sermon from the Fourth Sunday After Epiphany: Why Are You Fearful?

Fourth Sunday after Epiphany

Rev. Jon C. Olson

Feb. 2, 2014 

“Why are you fearful, O you of little faith?”

Well, let’s see: there’s the wind gusting, the lightning flashing, the waves crashing and the boat is fast filling up with water near to the point of sinking, and we are all about to begin drowning and death is very likely - and you happen to be sleeping completely unaware of your surroundings and what is going on around you, and you are asking us why we are fearful – and are picking on us for the little faith we have?

What is hard for us to understand is that Jesus apparently doesn’t "get" the life of fear that we comprehend so perfectly.  Who here today has the least bit of trouble identifying with the disciples and what they were going through?  Are any of you surprised by the disciples’ behavior?  Fear is something we understand all too well.  We all know all too well what it means to be afraid.  Afraid of losing a family member, afraid of the uncertainties of the future, afraid of a relationship breaking up, afraid of losing friends, afraid of suffering, afraid of another person’s anger, afraid of losing control, afraid of gaining control, afraid of responsibility and accountability, afraid of getting hurt again, afraid of disappointing those who depend on us, afraid of change, afraid that things will never change, afraid that people will hate us if they really knew the evil we hide inside, afraid that we’ve done something too awful for God or others to forgive,. Afraid, afraid, afraid…

And so, yes, to us Jesus asks the question - and asks it as the winds howl into our lives and the stormy waves crash and beat against our lifeboat and we feel like we are about to drown – “why are you fearful, O you of little faith?”

If we really stop and think about Jesus’ seemingly ridiculous question, a whole new world and way of looking at life opens up to us: it becomes the world in which our Lord lived and which He came to open up for us, so that we could live, really live, in it too.  It would not be going too far to describe it as a life without being afraid.  Which is not quite the same as a life without fear.

The Book of Proverbs says that “the fear of Lord, is the beginning of wisdom.” (Proverbs 1:7)  Which is to say that the fear of the Lord is not the same thing as being afraid of Him.  Notice that the fear of the Lord comes at the end of the Gospel reading today, not the beginning: The fear of the Lord is actually what leads the disciples to wonder aloud, saying, “Who can this be, that even the winds and the sea obey Him?”  And it is precisely this fear of the Lord which releases from being afraid.  To know and believe that God has their lives all under control is a great relief to the disciples.

A life without being afraid?  A life where there is no fear of being in the dark, where every circumstance and person is met with confidence and joy, where suffering is not feared and death is not terrifying and regret does not paralyze and peace reigns over all parts of your life?  Such a life belongs to Jesus and He lived it out fully.  He was never afraid, for He could cry out with the Psalmist:

“The Lord is my Light and my Salvation, whom shall I fear?  The Lord is the stronghold of my life, of whom shall I be afraid?”  

He cried that prayer with every ounce of His being, and so in Him there was no fear, and He calls upon us with our little faith to enter into that life with Him and live - really live.

For what is there to be afraid of when Jesus is with you in your boat? When He is with you in your life?  Does death terrify you?  He is the Resurrection and the Life, He is the Death of death.  He is death’s worst nightmare come into human flesh.  Death cannot hold you when He who died and rose again calls you from the grave.  Death will have to release you and you will arise in your body - He has made death simply like a little siesta, like the nap Jesus took on the boat.

Do your sins terrify you?  Jesus is the Pardon for all your sins, nailed to Calvary’s cross, wiping away the handwriting on the wall that was your death sentence.  

Do you fear the loss of friends and family?  Truly, truly I say to you, any who believes and is baptized are connected to Him and are never lost, for those who die in Him still live!  Jesus has promised and desires reunion in heaven.

Are you afraid that you won’t have enough, that you’ll suffer hunger or poverty?  But He promises you daily bread and even better, He freely gives you a food that that supplies your deepest and enduring need: His body and His blood delivering to you the forgiveness of sin, the promise of your resurrection, and the gift of life with Him forever.

Are you afraid that He may have suffering in mind for you and your loved ones?  Don’t worry.  He does!  He promises that suffering awaits you in this life.  How could it not?  If we are walking the path of love with Him, this world which rejects that love will see to it that we suffer.  The persecution of Bible believing Christians will continue and probably even increase.  Yet, Jesus also promises that through every hardship faithful, individual Christians and the faithful Christian Church bodies face, He will bring nothing but blessing, because He works all things together for the good of those who love Him.

You see, the One in the boat who asks: “Why are you fearful?” has literally taken away from us every reason to be afraid of anything in this creation.  Anything at all.  He reveals to us that the entirety of life and creation itself as a gift of love from a heavenly Father, and the measure of that love is that He gave His Son into the flesh that you might never fear, ever again.

It is true that in our weakness, we still do fear.  The Church knows this.  In her wisdom, she teaches us to pray the Collect for Peace.  In it, the Church asks God for a most precious gift: “and that we, being defended by You from the fear of our enemies, may pass our time in peace and quietness.”  Did you catch that?  The Church does not ask God to deliver her from her earthly enemies, but from the fear of them.  Our  problem is really never the evil people or institutions.   The problem is always with our being afraid of them, as though they had some power over us to separate us from the love of God in Christ!  No way.

To belong to Christ, to have the Crucified and Risen One present in your life, in the boat with you, means learning how to live without fear - except for the joyful fear of bowing before Him and confessing Him to be the Almighty God in our flesh and blood, come to save us eternally.  Amen.

Sometimes a girl's gotta sleep

Using whatever methods necessary.

One is ten. Two is fifteen. Three is seventeen. Four is BOOM.

Four months into to life with four ex utero, and my days are a mix of peace, fulfillment, meaning. Oh, and nine parts anger, stress, and denial that this--this noise and chaos and bodily-fluid-and-rambunktion cocktail--is our relatively-newish normal.

In the last five and half years, Papa and I have weathered the new parent experience (an insanely high learning curve), the two-under-two juggle, the three-easing-in gig. Pearly Girl's arrival was smooth, and within three weeks I was thinking, "This is easy. Cool!" Deluded, I thought I was proving to be just the kind of mega-awesome mom I always knew I was.

But the last few months have exploded my self-satisfied smugness. No, I can't point to crime-worthy messes or even particular instances so much as my general feeling of physical and emotional exhaustion. And I began realizing a few months ago that this wasn't depression; it was life. And if this was what my life was like, then my understanding of myself was being blasted to smithereens.

I had a breakthrough last month when I struck up a conversation with another mom of four whose kids are roughly a year ahead of each of ours. "So, does it get easier?" I asked hesitatingly, half-giggling, hoping that she could hear, and yet hoping she would miss, the barely-disguised hysteria behind my generic question.

"Yeah, it does," she said. Then she gazed down at her one-year-old and helped me to some perspective. "But four is hard. Everybody said, 'If you can do three, you can do four, five six.' And three for us was cake. But four was..." her voice trailed off. She looked at me. "I had a hard time. I had postpartum depression, which I'd never had with the other three kids. But my sisters-in-law helped. [They have four kids each, too.] They told me four was tough for them, too, but that it would get better." She paused, steadying the barely-walking brave soul hanging on to her pant leg. "Now the baby wants to go off on his own, and I'm like, 'He's not my baby anymore!' and at the same time I'm like, 'Go! Go!'"

Empathy comes in many forms, and sometimes it trickles into our lives almost unconsciously, emerging as in-the-trenches shared experience. Mom-of-four Amy put into words what I had been struggling to admit even to myself--that four kids is somehow astronomically harder to manage, but in subtle ways, that makes the very difficulty in care somehow negligible. I had felt like I was slowly drowning--and in truth, I still do, many days--but I felt like I couldn't acknowledge it because, well, three kids had been easy, and so many people told me that "if you could manage three, then you can manage four fine." Maybe someday I'll start second-guessing gross generalizations about parenting and spare myself the unrealistic expectations and inevitable guilty fallout.

I also felt like I couldn't acknowledge what our life is like because to do so prompts many people to jump to an illogical, if tenaciously popular, way of thinking. It goes something like this: if I, a mother of four, say that being a stay-at-home mother is hard, then I'm admitting failure. If I admit failure, then I 1) should really look into doing something more productive with my time, like working at something away from my children that tangibly and reliably rewards my efforts (unlike my current routine, which swings from high highs and low lows, like a bipolar monkey. Yep, pretty much like that), and 2) should stop embracing life and being open to more children. Because who in her right mind wants more of what causes her stress, sleeplessness, and six days straight of no showers? (Okay, it's usually not that bad. I had to pick a number that started with 's.' And 'seventeen' would have just scared people away.) In the midst of this juggle, I didn't know how to begin to respond to these arguments. In fact, I wasn't sure that I could personally categorically reject them, though logically I knew they were flawed.

A few years ago, Glennon Melton, a blogger at Momastery, wrote a great post entitled "Don't Carpe Diem," which went viral. In it, she discusses this very conundrum.

Parenting is hard. Just like lots of important jobs are hard. Why is it that the second a mother admits that it's hard, people feel the need to suggest that maybe she's not doing it right? Or that she certainly shouldn't add more to her load. Maybe the fact that it's so hard means she IS doing it right...in her own way...and she happens to be honest.

I disagree with some points here: I'm not doing it right, and I can't judge motherhood by my own standard (more on that in a bit). But the honesty part is what struck me, both when Amy talked to me and I read what Glennon wrote to the blogosphere. What is this life but hardships? And why was I stressing so much about the sheer hardness of life with small children? When I spend more than two seconds listening to myself, I realize how often the wambulance wails in my head and how I really do need to kick the wimpiness to the curb. In Lutheran-speak, I need to confess and repent the real culprit behind my stress: my own pride. I need to banish the Pharisee of Superwoman who, in a different but related vein, tries to keep me enslaved to the belief that I can control my life the way I want--and show the world how I really can live the perfect parent-magazine-spread life and put all those other moms to shame. That I can, in fact, do motherhood right, and do it right all the time, perfectly.

I realize that I am staggering from one ditch of self-pity and naval-gazing to another ditch of self-glorifying Mommydom. Both ways leave me with zero comfort and plenty of pent-up anxiety. Worse yet, I am leaving the One who can actually steer the ship, right the course, calm my heart, and lead me and mine to the Way Everlasting when I insist on thinking all of these gifts are entitlements and rewards. And I end up buried. As hard as I pity myself or congratulate myself, the law written on my heart whispers the truth: I fail at this mommy thing. I sin against my children daily, hourly. And real pity doesn't apply to evil. The meek were truly helpless and deserving of pity; I'm a sinner worthy of death. And I dwell on myself to the exclusion of every real good gift, like a massive quantity of explosives simmering before a lighted fuse. As Chad Bird put it in this blogpost among many other fine ones, "Behold, the sin of the world, that takes away the Lamb of God!"

Struggling is not abnormal. Struggling is what we do in this life. But struggling should not excuse the sins that hide behind it. I am angry many times because I think God is unfair to make my life something other than an Emommy awards show, that my service to my children goes unnoticed by most of the world, usually including my children; that my efforts don't merit a paycheck or an impressive job title or an awesome alumni magazine write-up. And my anger is so incredibly sinful, so immeasurably petty and juvenile, because God Himself did for me what I so dimly, blunderingly do for my own children. He loves me first and puts Himself aside. And He did this in His earthly life with the ultimate humility and grace and endless love. And remarkably, He still does love me, the merit-less and worthless, and gives Himself to me still.

And for this I am eternally grateful. And I am reminded, however fleetingly in this frenzied life, that He carries my sorrows, even the silly ones; He was cursed for my transgressions, even from my most terrible hatred down to my most childish anger. Upon Him was laid the chastisement that brings me ultimate peace, and by His stripes, I--with the messy remnants of my pride and sins raining in and on and through me--am healed and cleansed.

Because explosions can be beautiful.

Newsworthy Rats

So Papa and I decided a few months ago to begin a subscription to The Wall Street Journal. We've done so in the past, but stopped them due to major, major delivery problems (like the paper not coming three days out of six) and budget issues. We love the paper; we just like getting it when it's not too much of a budget crunch or when we, you know, actually get it. We'll determine in the next few weeks if the current delivery practice of our unknown paper carrier continues (he or she lies to drive onto our front lawn to leave the paper on our porch. And in Minnesota midwinter, the tire tracks on the front lawn are a little, um, obvious and presumptuous. In other words, WHO DOES THAT?! We've tried to report him or her, but still the tracks remain. So it goes in rural America, at least here, with us, with this newspaper saga).

Now that this post has included so many parentheticals that you're wondering what the point it, it's this. One of the reasons we love getting a physical newspaper is because we can share it with the kids. Yes, they're young, and most of them can't read. But they like looking at the pictures and discussing them, and it's far more enjoyable to hold a paper newspaper than to read it online (or at least Papa and I think). So last week, when I read this article about rat-throwing at a local festival in Spain, I knew we had a winner. The boys loved the article, Little Professor so much so that he proceeded to read it out loud several times several days later. There's innocent glee when a five-year-old snickers as he reads, "Despite animal-rights activists' objections to the practice, locals last year once again threw caution to the wind—along with rodents." If this encourages my children to read and learn about the world, then I just might be able to tolerate the tire-tracks on the lawn--for a little while, at least.

Queen of the Bowl

Pearly girl is moving toward independence by leaps and bounds. By independence I don't mean driving motorized vehicles, paying her own rent, and generally assuming the responsibilities of adults--though I suppose her progress is a start. 

I We officially began the great procession known as the weaning of diapers on Saturday, January 4. With the boys, our system--if you can even call it that--was less official and more gradual (diapers to pull-ups or the much-preferable training pants, with rubber pants, then without, and finally moving into actual dandified underwear as the ultimate prize. Or exhausted finish. Whatever.). People had always told me that girls were easier to potty-train than boys. I thought Little Professor and Superman were pretty easy, if messy. Superman moved into underwear on his second birthday, so I figured an older brother role-model really helped him.

Well. Pearly Girl has put them both to shame. Granted, she's one and a half months past her second birthday, but I can't remember the last time I put a diaper on her. Last week? Anyway, after one day of full court press of the training pants, she was telling us when she had to go. A few accidents later, she's into the girlie underwear I figured was at least a month away. I am relieved the way runners are when they get to the last lap. And we got here much faster than I anticipated.

I know more accidents will happen, because they just do. But in the meantime, I am crowning Pearly Girl Queen of the Bowl and loving washing the prettiest little undergarments that mark her transition to Big(ger) Kid. 

So much cuter than cars and Ninja Turtles pants! Say it with me: ooooh!

One Thousand--Ahem--Boons

No, really, Sister--thank YOU. Nice hat, too.

Maybe you've heard of or read Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts. It's a beautifully written read--thought-provoking, lyrical, laughter-inducing and certainly tear-inducing. It also, from my obviously Lutheran perspective, ultimately ends up heaping law upon law on Voskamp herself and her readers by concluding that we have to give thanks in all circumstances. Period. So DO IT, good Christians! Always! No excuses! What I began reading with so much hope and delight ended with me slinking back to the library dropbox, wondering what went wrong.

And what went wrong, of course, is that we can't actually give thanks in all circumstances all the time or even act like doing so is some act of penance or some act of works-righteousness contributing to some partnership-with-Jesus contract deal. And since we can't, because we're poor miserable sinners and we generally know it (thanks for this, Adriane!), this book that tries to emphasize the good ends up shackling us with more impossible expectations rather than giving us the Great Thanks-giver Himself. Because ultimately I need to know that Jesus could give thanks all the time because He was God, and Jesus loved me even unto death, and His vicarious atonement isn't conditional on any merit on my part, like giving thanks always. Otherwise His work wouldn't be, well, a something-for-nothing gift. I realize the hyphenated adjective there is superfluous, but it's amazing how many people think of "gift" as more like the beginning of a bartering deal. "I'll scratch your back if you scratch mine. By the way, I've got an ingrown hair problem, but you're cool with that, right?" Thanks, but no. I'll take my birthdays and Christmases and back-scratching and Jesus without the sides of conditions. 

All that being said. Here I give you One Thousand Boons, my list of decidedly less--no, significantly less--than one thousand benefits that I* never, ever list when I'm coming up with things I'm thankful for. Enjoy, and go about your blessed life with all of its gifts and boons.

(*or anyone else, unless she's--or he's--crazy or warped. Join, please!)  

• The Friends of Meinders Community Library Annual Book Sale.  
• A room in which to lock myself into for five minutes of privacy. 
• That my belly button isn't in the middle of my head (that would be awkward).
• Angelika, who came up with those last two while 1) yelling at her kids through the locked bathroom door to give her some peace for five minutes and 2) explaining how truly awkward a belly button on the noggin would be. Yes, she's joined. She's actually probably a charter member.
• Accidentally dropped M & Ms under the kitchen table. That I find days later. (Surprise chocolate!)
• Bath salts and a sleep aid. Not used simultaneously but in tandem.
• And a glass of Riesling.
• The flip-down mirror by the passenger seat for mascara-application, hair-fluff-checking, and last-minute blotting of baby-stained clothing. Better than a personal stylist, IMPO.
• Bedtimes. For small children.
• Natch that. Sleeping children. 
• Anna Karenina, Madame Bovary, and Sister Carrie. To remind me that my life is actually pretty s-ah-w-eeeeeeeeeet.
• Ear plugs.
• Ice packs.
• Three-packs of kid underwear.
• My Hope Is Built on Nothing Less Than Jesus' Blood and Righteousness. And that's a for-real boon.

Three years is long, fast time

Just about three years ago...

 

Now, our little boys are our "big" boys!