AllTheseThings

"Reading" on the Throne

Beloved readers, please don't poo poo my blog.  Allow me to use this space to flesh out a discussion I had today with my darling husband.  Would you please answer the following question, which comes directly from my aforementioned husband:

Where do you usually sit when you read Parade magazine (usually found in the Sunday paper)?

a.  on the potty

b.  at the kitchen table (with your bowl of cereal)

c.  you don't read Parade because you have children under 5, and you haven't had time to eat, much less read in the past 5 years.  (Please include your gender with your answer.)

I have chosen to allocate valuable blogging real estate for such a topic because I believe I have finally determined why men take reading material into the bathroom.  It's not to read.  Frankly, I don't even think they need to go, if you know what I mean.  Ladies....  THEY'RE HIDING.

The bathroom is the perfect place for them to go.  Think about it.  Who can deny someone the right to use the bathroom?  Once they're in there, they're untouchable.  All Hell could be breaking loose, but the sacred door is locked.  It's like being in a sound-proof booth; they're absolved of all responsibility on the other side of the door.

Now let's consider the mothers.  Who among us would ever dream of taking 15 minutes to repose in the lavatory?  What mother has the luxury of even going to the bathroom alone?  In my experience, I'm usually attended by 1, 2 or 3 little ones (in very close proximity).  I've even been known to nurse a baby, tend to a toddler and get my business done, so to speak.  Parade magazine was never an option. 

But now, I believe it's time.  We deserve our potty time too.  It's time for women to take a seat, just like Rosa Parks.  I'm going to catch up on all that reading I've been meaning to do.  Shoot, I may bring a sofa in there too.  Why should men have all the fun?

Relieved at last,

Lucy

Global Groaning

I've been thinking about something lately, although -- with 3 kids under 5 -- I don't think deeply about much these days.  I usually just think about how long it will be till I can go to bed, but anyway, I want to run an idea past you.

Creation is groaning.  Have you seen it on the news?  Tsunamis, floods, droughts, earthquakes, tornados, wildfires.  Have you seen it in your wardrobe?  Summer clothes sneaking into the winter season, and heavy coats worn in May?  Have you noticed it in the air?  Pollen so thick it actually looks like it's raining softly?

Romans 8 tells us: "The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time."

I don't know much about Global Warming, but I do know about childbirth, and it hurts.  It seems that the world is in labor right now -- writhing and screaming in its own natural way -- or rather, its UNnatural way because it is frustrated by the sin that pervades its every square inch.

Those of us who know the Creator know there's more than this.  We too long for the days of restored perfection in the world and in our own selves in Heaven.  Maybe Global Warming is just another sign that Jesus' return is closer than we think.

Any thoughts?

Lucy P.

Good Friday

I have often considered the sacrifice of Jesus on Easter, but only recently have I pondered deeply the sacrifice of God the Father.

I was taught from a very young age that Jesus was God's only begotten son, and that He died for my sins. Sometimes familiarity breeds apathy, and in my case, I often was unmoved by Jesus' (and God's) sacrifice on my behalf. It was just too rote.

But once I had children of my own, and then had to deal with the pain of losing two babies (to miscarriages), I began to reconsider the depth of pain and sacrifice God must have felt when He offered His own son on the cross. It's, frankly, unbearable to imagine putting your own child in such a position. It's unthinkable to envision your little one being whipped, then beaten, then hung up by nails through his skin, and finally gored with a sword.

God, how did You ever go through that? Why did you do such a thing for me, for all of us? Were the darkness and the earthquake that followed Jesus' death physical manifestations of the divine grief you experienced? Did all nature mourn with You when Your son breathed His last breath?

I am humbled and thunderstruck at how You -- a Father -- gave Your Son -- your only begotten Son -- so that we could all come to know You. May this understanding spur us on to commit our entire lives to knowing and serving You.

In Him,

Lucy

alltheselucy@yahoo.com

Waiting

I have a friend who's waiting for her boyfriend to call.  I have a friend who's waiting to adopt a baby.  I have a friend who's waiting for biopsy results.  I have friends who are waiting to see if their offer on a house was accepted.  I have a friend who is waiting to find a soulmate... before she turns 40. 

Have you ever noticed how much waiting is a part of our existence as believers?  It was certainly a theme in the Bible.  Noah had to build his boat and then wait (while his friends jeered) until the rains came. Abraham waited till he was 100 to hold Isaac in his arms.  God's people had to wait centuries for their Messiah (who paid the price for their sins on Good Friday).  And we now await His second coming.

Hebrews reminds us of a whole host of heroes who waited and waited and waited, and never got what they were waiting for... until they died.  It sounds depressing until you realize THEY weren't depressed.  "All these people were still living by faith when they died.  They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance." (Heb. 11:13)  Amazing.  They welcomed them from afar; they didn't curse the fact that they didn't get them yet.

I'm not really good at waiting.  I'm not good at welcoming from a distance the blessings I will inherit in Heaven.  How funny that I'd almost prefer the pathetic imitations here on Earth for the real thing. 

As C.S. Lewis says in the oft-quoted Weight of Glory, "We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased."

When the waiting gets long and we are tempted to settle for less than God's plan for our lives, let us be like those heroes and heroines who were "longing for a better country -- a heavenly one.  Therefore, God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them."  (Heb. 11:16) Then and there, the waiting will be over.

In Him,

Lucy Pevensie