tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63786643210180501082024-03-05T01:36:39.514-05:00Bodysurfingriding life's wavesKathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.comBlogger104125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-71734900662601343242010-10-27T14:05:00.003-04:002010-10-27T14:14:17.225-04:00Prodigal<div style="text-align: justify;">Words fascinate me. I still remember many of my vocabulary words from my youth, especially when a word was unique in meaning or had an unexpected pronunciation. I read the thesaurus for fun. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Lately, I've been intrigued by the word "prodigal." This word is very misused, I find. I was the biggest offender of its misuse until rather recently. I grew up thinking that "prodigal" meant the favorite, as in the Prodigal Son was the favorite son. I think this confusion was borne from a lack of knowledge about the Bible and the fact that most other people around me seemed to think it meant something postiive too.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Then I learned that most church people believed "prodigal" meant wayward, since the parable in Luke 15 seemed to concentrate on a really wild kid who disrespected his father. That made much more sense.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I could have just looked the word up in the dictionary, of course. I never did. I'm reading a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Prodigal-God-Recovering-Heart-Christian/dp/0525950796/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1288201817&sr=8-1">book</a> now that gives the dictionary definition: <b>recklessly extravagant</b>. Think of a prodigious feast; there is far too much good food to possibly eat.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, the Prodigal Son is not the favorite son or even simply the wayward son, though people might argue he was both of those things in Jesus' parable. The Prodigal Son was the recklessly extravagant son, who took his inheritance, blew it on rather unholy things and activities, and then came back with his tail between his legs.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">But there is another layer to this story--in fact, there are many layers to this story. Yes, the Prodigal Son was recklessly extravagant with his father's wealth. But as it turns out, we have a Prodigal God. Who knew?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">In the parable, of course, God the Father is represented by the earthly father who runs out to meet his son on his walk of shame, and orders a fine robe and great feast to celebrate his son's return. This father, like ours in heaven, is recklessly extravagant in his love and care for his son. The grace is prodigious.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The book I'm reading is called <i>Prodigal God</i>. When I first heard of that title, laboring under a misunderstanding of what the word "prodigal" meant, it struck me as vaguely offensive. But I have been humbled by Webster's Dictionary, and I now see how appropriate of a title it is.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">There is another layer to this parable that many might not know-that of the other, presumably good and obedient, son. I think I'll tackle that part in another post. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">What prodigious feast has God given you lately?</div>Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-11298028339215624172010-10-23T21:05:00.002-04:002010-10-23T21:05:59.085-04:00A Voicemail Message to God<style>
@font-face {
font-family: "Cambria";
}@font-face {
font-family: "Helvetica Neue";
}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }
</style> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">I am not terribly comfortable writing about the subject of prayer. If I wrote a book about my early prayer life, it would be a pamphlet. Or a postcard.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">My first prayer memory involved spending the night at my grandmother’s house. My grandmother would put me in bed and make me say “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep.<span> </span>If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.” I would then lie in bed, wide-eyed, terrified to fall asleep, with thoughts of my own death swirling in my head.<span> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">I pretty much avoided prayer after that unless it was forced upon me in a communal setting, like Mass, and then my mind was certainly not on God or my own transgressions, but rather how much longer I was trapped at church. I was not a willing participant in my youth.<span> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">In my college years, prayers boiled down to begging God for some result because I was terrified at the outcome of a situation.<span> </span>Please keep my brother out of trouble.<span> </span>Please help me get into law school.<span> </span>Please make money appear in my checking account.<span> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">Through this circuitous journey, I stumbled back into prayer, largely as a result of my every-so-slow recognition that I really didn’t know best. I was no longer convinced of my own righteousness.<span> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">It was not easy to start praying.<span> </span>In the beginning, I stuck with formal, well-known prayers. Over the past few years, I have taken the leap to talking to God in my own words.<span> </span>At first, I would pray in the fashion of what I call “leaving a blithering voicemail for God.”<span> </span>Have you ever started leaving a message for someone, and you just can’t stop talking? You simply cannot end the message?<span> </span>Well, that is what I would do.<span> </span>“God, Hi, this is Kathleen (of course you know that God, sorry, you know everything, I shouldn’t have said that)…God here’s what happened (you know that too!<span> </span>Sorry God)…”<span> </span>And it just went on and on from there, with no real beginning and no real ending. I would end up embarrassed that I had spoken a poorly constructed prayer to the Almighty.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">And yet, I believe that even those blithering voicemails to God were acceptable, even welcome, to him. What he really wants is our conversation, to meet him with dialogue. He wants for us to recognize that it is <i>his</i> righteousness, not ours, that makes us redeemable and redeemed. It is in those poorly constructed, grammatically incorrect prayers that we reveal recognition of our flaws.<span> </span>Recognition of our imperfections can lead us back to God and make us thirst for his mercy.</span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"><br />
</span></div>Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-11604330549805178962010-10-20T11:59:00.001-04:002010-10-20T13:07:14.269-04:00Pray 10<div style="text-align: justify;">Nativity's challenge to pray ten minutes (or ten minutes more than our usual daily routine) is on. Here is my track record so far:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">1. I started Sunday, and used Plan B (reading and reflecting on Scripture, along with direct conversation with God), from the <a href="http://www.churchnativity.org/news.php">Message Guide</a>. It went well. I was on my game. Go me.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">2. On Monday, things got crazy and I tried to do it while I was in bed (no Plan B, just "Kathleen's last minute plan"), right before falling asleep. Big mistake. I kept trying to wake myself up to finish "praying 10." I think it is safe to say I prayed about 4.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">3. On Wednesday, I went back to using Plan B. I did it at night again, but not right before falling asleep. It went well and I think I went over ten minutes because I was less focused on the clock than before.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It has been good. It has also been a starter for family conversation about praying. A good friend of mine fell ill this week, and the "Pray 10" campaign made it easier to ask people to pray for him--"just add him to your Pray 10."</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Let me know how your "Pray 10" is going. Leave me a comment below. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Peace-</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Kathleen</div>Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-82854394524744655852010-09-29T18:13:00.000-04:002010-09-29T18:13:17.783-04:00Love & War<div style="text-align: justify;">I never thought I would be the go-to person on marriage issues. Don't get me wrong-I am married, and only once, and for a fairly long time. But if you had asked me years ago if people would be contacting me about the blissful (getting married, getting prepared for marriage) and the not-so-blissful (marriage struggles, separation, divorce), I would have looked over my shoulder for the grey-haired church lady you were surely talking to.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">In the past two weeks, I've attended one wedding, overseen marriage preparation for engaged couples, and put some final touches on a program Nativity will have for married couples in a few weeks. I've also spoken to no fewer than five people who are working through the sadness of separation and divorce.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, Love & War is an appropriate title for this blog, and for any program dealing with marriage. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
Marriage is a battle. It really is. It is hard work that sometimes seems too hard. I'm exhausted from hearing the stories of love in marriage and war in marriage. Sadly, in our culture, it seems like war is more the norm than love.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">My exposure to the many people who are suffering in their marriage relationships is one reason I was interested in hosting a program for couples that doesn't pull any punches. Nativity's Love & War program, on Saturdays in October, isn't your grandma's church's marriage enrichment course. It's a group of couples who will come together to watch short videos about marriage and the struggles of real life couples, and then discuss as a group (and later, privately with their spouses) what the obstacles are to having a transforming marriage. And there are many obstacles.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">What does God want from us as married people? He isn't satisfied with the attitude that "I'll stay with her until the kids are grown," or "I'll tolerate him but I won't touch him," or "I stay married but every battle we have will be a public one for everyone to see what a loser he is." </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The goal isn't simply to stay married. There are plenty of miserable couples who achieve that goal. The goal is to have a successful marriage, measured against the barometer of God's word. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">A successful marriage isn't a perfect one or even a happy one all the time. It is one that transforms us into someone better than we were before we were married.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Please join me and my husband, and other Nativity couples, on October 16 and 23 for Love & War. For more information, stop by the Nativity Info Desk or email me at kleslie@churchnativity.org.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>Married 6 months or 60 years? Love & War is for you. Have a great marriage or a troubled one? Love & War is for you. If you've said "I do," this is for you.Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-66190053493371072592010-09-21T19:12:00.005-04:002010-09-21T19:27:56.576-04:00Mad as Fire<div style="text-align: justify;">When I was little, my mom used the expression "mad as fire." That meant really, really mad. It was the kind of anger precipitated by things like your child playing "cuckoo clock" inside the front-loading dryer and breaking the door, or your child breaking up records (remember those?) and shoving them down the toilet, or your child writing in permanent marker on a freshly painted wall. Not that I know what sort of child would do such things . . . suffice it to say that I learned fast what made my mom "mad as fire," though unfortunately for me, I didn't always remember. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">We have been examining anger during Nativity's <a href="http://www.churchnativity.org/special_boiling_point.php">Boiling Point</a> series. Last week, I tracked what makes me "mad as fire." It turns out that it is people more so than situations that anger me. Perhaps I should say that I always attribute anger-inducing situations back to people, whether they are people I live with or the faceless Verizon guy on the phone. I also found that anger in the morning usually translated to a steady diet of anger all day, and that morning prayer seemed to precede a morning without much anger.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I think I see a pattern here.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">This week, I've been tracking to see if my anger is righteous or unrighteous. I've only been doing this for two days now, but generally, my anger is unrighteous. The question is, would the event that angered me also anger God? At first, I think I was approaching this question incorrectly. For instance, if my child didn't do a chore, I would translate as follows: children should do their chores, and so God would support me in yelling at my child. Wrong, of course. I was taking something that might be righteous anger and wrongly reasoning that because my anger was righteous, God also endorsed my method of expressing the anger. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">What does make God "mad as fire?" I think if we ask the question this way, we see how our anger is almost always unrighteous. I don't think my daughter failing to put her plate in the dishwasher makes God "mad as fire." I do think millions of children not having any food to put on any plates does.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, tomorrow, my goal is this: when I get angry, I will stop right there and ask, "does this make God mad as fire?" If the answer is no (and I'm pretty sure it will be), then my job is to let it go. Let go of the small inconvenience, annoyance or sharp word from another.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Update to follow.</div>Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-79732225657662034192010-09-12T21:46:00.002-04:002010-09-12T21:59:26.813-04:00Nativity Stats-It's All in a Weekend's Work6 worship services successfully completed<br />
<br />
50 new members welcomed<br />
<br />
16 signed up to become members next month<br />
<br />
8 new parents ready for the Baptism of their brand new additions<br />
<br />
3 couples prepared for marriage<br />
<br />
13 people ready to start the process of becoming a Catholic Christian<br />
<br />
2 of my children leading worship at the end of Mass <br />
<br />
2 tired feet<br />
<br />
1 aching back<br />
<br />
0 regretsKathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-25409574410378753142010-09-03T09:18:00.005-04:002010-09-03T09:44:50.721-04:00A Small World After All<div style="text-align: justify;">It's that time of year. Back to School Nights populate September like holiday parties populate December. They are everywhere, and they aren't always welcomed.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I attended Towson High School's event last night. Back to School Night is an interesting microcosm. You have a small world, a classroom, of adults. As always, I was observing rather than mingling. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">You have the popular parents, the ones who know each other, the extroverts who find someone to chat with the moment they enter any room. They talk about their kids, their jobs, the weather. They seem pleasant, but you don't know them so you don't say anything.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">You have the (pardon the expression) suck-ups, the ones who are there to attempt to grease the wheels for their kids. "Hi, Mr. Davis, we are Anne and Albert Smith, Kelly's parents. It is so great to finally meet you! Kelly is loving your class!" How Kelly can express such sentiment after 3 days of school remains unanswered. As if Mr. Davis even knows who Kelly is. You jump to the conclusion that they are phony, so you don't say anything.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">You have the parents who attempt with each head nod to impress upon the teacher that 1) their middle-aged memories fully recall the subject being taught (really? pre-calculus?) and 2) they agree with every word the teacher utters. You are embarrassed about their visible enthusiasm, as if they were your own parents embarrassing you, so you don't say anything.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Then you have the parents like me. They seem unfriendly (maybe they are unfriendly; I can be). They seem grumpy (I'm just trying to be objective). They don't speak (I'm there to listen and apparently judge others). They are impatient for the teacher to start, and are ready to leave as soon as the "dismissal bell" sounds (there is a schedule and it must be followed absent Jesus walking through the door).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It occurred to me after this event that herein lies society--the extroverts, the politicians, the enthusiasts, and the curmudgeons. God bless them all. What would we do without those among us who get others talking and meeting others? We also need those who lobby for position, even for power, in certain situations. They create movement; there were some great politicians in the Bible. Remember Peter in Acts 2 and Paul all over the place?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">And the enthusiasts--I have the great pleasure to work with a few enthusiasts, and they sure keep me smiling when I'd rather not be. The world would be a sour place without them. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">We even need the curmudgeons. The ones who are interested in the facts as we know them and how to accomplish the daily task of surviving life with some efficacy.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I left Back to School Night irritated, which is not a completely foreign emotion to me. And yet, reflecting on the night, I realize we need all these personalities, and more close to home, I need to appreciate all of them and somehow interact with all of them, for my own good. Maybe I don't need to interact with them on Back to School Night (please, God, don't ask that of me), but these same folks are at Starbucks, at my church, and in the grocery store. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It is the diversity of personality that has helped us survive under God's direction. I would do well to remember that the next time I feel my eyes involuntarily rolling at Back to School Night.</div>Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-79375517636734683052010-08-31T18:59:00.004-04:002010-08-31T19:03:43.943-04:00Surprise!<div style="text-align: justify;">I hate surprises. I really do. In high school and college, I had no fewer than 10 surprise parties. It was as if my dread of the surprise party was directly proportional to the likelihood that I would be the beneficiary of such an event.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Soon I'll turn 43. I don't feel like that's old, but I don't feel like it's young either. I hate the expression "she's 80 years young!" What good is time-earned wisdom if we only wish for youth?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
My best friend will turn 43 on the same day I will. We were born in the same town, on the same day, in the same year (different hospitals, though). I am a few hours older, so naturally I possess more time-earned wisdom than she does. She shares my dislike of surprises too.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">And yet she was treated to one this summer. Cancer. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">A surprise like this one is of course not welcomed. It does test one's fortitude. It is testing hers and her family's. It is testing mine.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I've taken to controlling really small situations since I can't control The Big One. I have conquered the messy closets in my house. My earrings have lost their constant battle of separating from their mates, and are now relegated to one tidy container where they can't escape. Most impressively, however, is that I have defeated dust altogether. Dust doesn't stand a chance against me.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I wish I could say the same for cancer. Fortunately, smart professionals are well poised to fight that battle, along with my friend, one of the strongest people I've known even before this diagnosis. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Certainly this is hardest for her, but when you can literally do nothing about it, the level of powerlessness is overwhelming. So I've been praying. Not as much as I should and not with a perfect heart about it either. I'm mad. I know God can take it, but I'm still mad about the pain that people are experiencing because of this.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">And yet I can't forget what C.S. Lewis said about pain. "God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks to us in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: It is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world."</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I sure wish he used a different method to rouse a deaf world. But he wants relationship with us. Even if we're yelling at him. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Yelling at God is better than ignoring him. </div>Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-66980991795152739872010-08-11T11:48:00.004-04:002010-08-11T11:58:47.163-04:00Thoughts on Marriage<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAQYaJ_GwZR1GRHk97OXkvoWojJKUT5DCR8CD3Z_KjVX_dbatOKo9mTSnApWCv1zleMpZcsWLRgBzF6BfE7MA7dhzcLc0ppsebHIcqntfkSTUv-nV6oPOaMJR5IiC7ALjpfxhorbpBlPE/s1600/n1099407274_30186458_1026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAQYaJ_GwZR1GRHk97OXkvoWojJKUT5DCR8CD3Z_KjVX_dbatOKo9mTSnApWCv1zleMpZcsWLRgBzF6BfE7MA7dhzcLc0ppsebHIcqntfkSTUv-nV6oPOaMJR5IiC7ALjpfxhorbpBlPE/s200/n1099407274_30186458_1026.jpg" width="145" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Nineteen years is a long time to do anything. Most people don't have the same job or attend school for that length of time, and sadly, most people aren't married for that long either. Yesterday Eric and I celebrated our 19th wedding anniversary. And now I will wow you with the many critical pieces of advice we have to offer you on having 19 pain-free, fun-filled and easy-going years together. Nothing but bliss, right?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Fail.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Anyone who tries to give you that advice, shoot them. No, don't shoot them, but do ignore them. Because if anyone tells you marriage is all bliss, they are worthy of being ignored (and perhaps committed).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Marriage is not easy. It was, frankly, not designed to be (or maybe it was <i>designed</i> to be, but humans screwed it up). Now our challenge is to work through our brokenness to establish a lifelong bond with someone. And if you can persevere, it is totally worth it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm reading a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Love-War-Finding-Marriage-Dreamed/dp/0385529805/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1281539505&sr=8-1">book</a> now that is challenging for me in many ways. It is challenging first because it is told from the perspective of a man and woman who more or less fit the commonly held stereotypes of a men and women--nothing wrong with that, but it tends to alienate me because that is not really my personality. I simply don't identify with the woman, and I'm not sure my husband would identify with the man. Maybe that's part of our brokenness, maybe not. But either way, it makes it hard to persevere through a book that makes you feel a bit alien.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Nevertheless, even for men and women who don't fit the stereotypes, the book has real truth in it. What I've gotten out of it the most is that marriage is not actually a vehicle meant to provide us with unending happiness, but rather is a vehicle to <i>transform </i>us into something better than we are. That doesn't mean it brings out the best in us right away, or all the time, but it is through those times when were are surely not our best that we have the greatest opportunity to grow, to be transformed, into something better.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The book is <i>Love and War</i>. Aptly titled, this book really guides you through what marriage is about, from a God perspective and also from an imperfect human perspective. If you are perfect human, there is no need to read it. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, following a truly fabulous anniversary dinner last night (which, by the way, my husband cooked from start to finish), I am back tackling the challenges of <i>Love and War.</i> Stay tuned! I'll post more thoughts on this book and marriage in days to come.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Two closing thoughts: 1) Marriage is awesome and 2) so very hard. And admitting, even embracing, the second part actually brings you closer to the first.</div>Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-11074892839144066382010-08-06T10:22:00.004-04:002010-08-06T10:30:50.448-04:00Dumb Prayer Requests<div style="text-align: justify;">I have a confession. Sometimes I think people's prayer requests are dumb. I know that is wrong, and that part of me that jumps to judgment needs a lot of work. It is so hard for my mind to stay focused on God when I'm talking to him about:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">-Little Suzie's nail biting.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">-No rain for an upcoming camping trip.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">-Joe's tomato plants finally coming in.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I mentally roll my eyes at these kinds of requests. I'm intense, and I like things black or white, so my preference is to categorize prayer requests as "necessary" or "dumb." I am also someone who totally disagrees with the statement that there are no dumb questions. OF COURSE there are dumb questions! Who's with me??</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Largely, though, it is a matter of concentration. I have a hard enough time staying focused when the prayer requests actually <i>do</i> seem important to me.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">That last sentence reveals the core of the problem. It's the word "me."<br />
<br />
"Me" doesn't get to decide which prayer request is legit. "Me" isn't privy to what is really underlying Little Suzie's nail biting. "Me" is supposed to be praying for others, loving others, through their own messy circumstances, even if I don't get how messy those circumstances are. "Me" has to learn to tolerate the fact that since I don't know everything (<i>whaaat?</i>), it is not my province to judge which words people use to speak to God.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">When it comes to breakdowns in my prayer life, it really is all about "me." </div>Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-1131072304905043092010-07-26T14:31:00.000-04:002010-07-26T14:31:46.011-04:00Know Your Story<div style="text-align: justify;">I'm reading a good <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Be-Told-Story-Shape-Future/dp/1578569486/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1280167897&sr=8-1">book</a> now about knowing your personal story, and how important that is to shaping your faith life and, frankly, surviving this messy existence we call life. The author, Dan Allender, writes that "it is our responsibility to know our story so we can live it out more intentionally and boldly for the Great Story, the gospel." </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Many people have stories that are quite painful, and it might seem most appropriate to refuse to know your story. But I think that, until we know <i>all</i> parts of our life stories, like history, we are doomed to repeat them. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The biggest challenge might be attempting to admit your entire life story, including the parts that bring you shame, the parts that you peg you as a victim, and the parts that make you seethe in anger. Or maybe the bigger challenge is to own it, and realize how current behavior is not a cosmic coincidence but rather has been slowly built over time with the mortar of life events. For me, the biggest challenge, I think, is to share my story with a trusted friend or group of people who support me. I'm still working on that one.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Allender writes that God has created our lives but has invited us to co-author them. We are not to be just victims of bad circumstances or passive participants in lives spinning out of control. It is very hard not to give in to the temptation to rest as a victim (although that "rest" is never really restful for those of us who have tried it). But to do so is cowardly and not a part of God's plan.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Know your story. Own it. Write it. Tell it. But most of all, ponder it so that you can lovingly understand where you came from, warts and all, and how that experience made you who you are. Embrace your future life with the knowledge that owning those parts of your undesirable past will help you to avoid repeating it, or at least repeating it forever. Even though we often hate ourselves for where we've been, God loves us through it. But he takes his challenge of co-authorship seriously, and he won't rescue us out of self hatred, self pity or anger toward others without some effort on our part. </div>Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-28658550440777033292010-07-22T12:21:00.000-04:002010-07-22T12:21:55.694-04:00Scar Tissue<div style="text-align: justify;">I'm on a mission to fix my feet. I have chronic plantar fasciitis in both feet, and it is so bad that I have scar tissue formed all over the plantar fascia, that thin, long band of connective tissue that runs from your heel to your toes. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">How did I get this? Through pride and stupidity. I was running a great deal, training for 3 marathons and numerous half marathons in a few year period. I started to get pain in my heels, and did some scant research on the condition. I believed that it was just pain and not really harmful, so I kept running on it without treatment. I also thought it would be a great idea to run barefoot on the beach for miles at a time. I was an athlete, right? Nothing can stop me.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">You know how this one ends. I severely injured my feet because, surprise, I was not invincible. I went from marathon running to limping when I walked in a matter of months. As a middle aged woman, you can also guess what followed: weight gain and self loathing, the satanic twins that follow women around like loyal puppies.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It made me wonder if this physical condition didn't mimic so many spiritual conditions we endure. We think we can do it on our own and that nothing can stop us. We can't, naturally, but we continue to fool ourselves that our way is the best. It is not until we are crippled by the sins of pride and self-omnipotence that we are forced to deal with the scar tissue left behind.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So as I roll a golf ball under my foot to break up old scar tissue, and eat lentils instead of buffalo wings, I write this <i>mea culpa</i> in the hope that, <i>this time</i>, I truly concede that I am not the Almighty.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Jesus taught us to pray to his Father that "THY will be done," not "MY will be done." (Matthew 6:10). And yet, our whole lives, we fight our tendency to do our own will, to believe that we really know best.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The good news is that scar tissue can be broken away from healthy tissue, though it is a slow and painful process. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">What scar tissue is on your heart? Start the slow and painful process today. Don't ignore it anymore. It's not going away on its own. You have to work it. It hurts, but in the end, surrender to a God greater than yourself is worth it. </div>Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-55024023859718193052010-07-15T12:59:00.004-04:002010-07-15T13:02:43.568-04:00Choked Up<div style="text-align: justify;">A father calls a local church and wants to know if they will allow his child to be baptized. He wants to raise the child in the faith, but he has "things" in his past (it could be divorce or other situations that have separated the father from the church). It has taken him a long time to call a church at all because he assumes he is not welcome. His discussions with others led him to believe his assumption was correct.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">This happens more than you think. At Nativity, I field these calls and emails from parents desperate to return to the faith of their childhood but embarrassed and ashamed that they will not be welcome. Ironically, my experience is that these parents are the ones who we find to be the most invested in their church experience and the faith upbringing of their children. And yet, what is the Church doing to welcome these people back?</div><div style="text-align: right;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Almost nothing. That must change. Why must it change?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">-It's wrong (Matthew 25:43).<br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;">-It's clearly the opposite of what Jesus would do (Luke 5:32).</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">-It violates the mandate that we baptize all nations (Matthew 28:19).</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">-It ignores the requirement that we build the local church (Ephesians 4:12).</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">-It abdicates responsibility for finding new members to serve others (also Ephesians 4:12).</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I had a conversation with a father in this predicament today. After a brief conversation, he said he was "all choked up" that Nativity would welcome his family. He was, frankly, shocked that anyone wanted them. It's a crime that people are made to feel this way and believe that they aren't welcome because of past mistakes.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">If you know anyone in this situation, please have them contact me at kleslie@churchnativity.org.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>What's that about throwing stones?</i> </div>Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-13190160802582664042010-07-05T01:24:00.003-04:002010-07-06T14:29:50.111-04:00A Life More Ordinary<div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Ordinary</i> is a confusing word. It conjures up images of mind-numbing routine: housework, billable time, supermarket lines and summer television. No one wants to be ordinary. To want to be ordinary is like wishing you were middle of the pack. No one dreams of being average. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">And yet the word is derived from the Latin <i>ordo</i>, meaning "ordered" or suggesting sequence. Words like <i>ordinal</i>,<i> </i>or numbered, come from this root word. <i>Ordinary time</i> in the Church calendar doesn't mean boring time (although the stretch from Pentecost to Advent can seem like it, depending on the quality of preaching you are privileged to hear, or not). It means "numbered" time, sequenced to correspond to the life of Christ.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Since I like knowing the origin of words, and lacking anything <i>extraordinary</i> to do at this late hour, I researched this further. I found that <i>ordo </i>was used in medieval times to mean "a system of parts subject to certain uniform, established ranks or proportions, and was used for everything from architecture to angels." Cool.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I like order (my spices are alphabetized) and I like movement (idle time is not enjoyable to me), so these definitions together pleased me. If the word ordinary connotes sequence or movement, then I guess I should want to be ordinary. I want to be moving <i>somewhere</i> and not remaining stagnant. And I want to be a part within the system. I want to be a part of the human world, but yet somehow distinguishable from the other people. I want to be numbered--I want to count for something, and I want my individuality to be counted. Fortunately, God does just this for us. He allows us to be a part of a whole, while all the time knowing every tiny thing about us, even the number of hairs on our head. He also gives us the ability to move towards him (and he gives us the choice to move away, too).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> My point? I'm not sure I have one (<b>it is</b> 1:00 am). I guess my point is that we should rethink the stigma of being ordinary. When we despair that we are living simply "ordinary" lives, we need to focus on what that word should really mean and not the reality of enduring yet another price check in the longest supermarket line ever.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Keep moving. Be counted. (Sounds like a Census ad).<br />
<br />
Better yet: Keep moving towards God. Rest in the truth that you are counted.</div>Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-52765256772920415232010-06-24T23:09:00.000-04:002010-06-24T23:09:19.870-04:00Crew Leader, Day 4.5It's nearly midnight on Thursday, and I should be asleep, but I'm not. Tomorrow is my last day as a crew leader for Vacation Bible School at Nativity. I have a very sweet crew-ages 5 to 9, girls and boys, with a personality range as long as the horizon. They have been having fun, and so have I. I am very tired (exhausted might be a better word) but it has been good for me in so many ways.<br />
<br />
I think one of the reasons I love little kids so much is that they give me permission to be kid-like. Without that permission, I know I wouldn't do things like dance. I don't dance at all under normal adult conditions. I also colored today for the first time in a long time. The only part of my experience that is not kid-like right now is my right hip. You try sitting "criss-cross applesauce" all day long when you are used to a desk and a padded chair. <br />
<br />
I believe that ministers who are really growing as true servants of God would always admit that they get more out of serving than they give. In fact, I wonder if that ought not be the litmus test for service-are you getting more than your giving? If you aren't changed for the better by the experience, are you really the minister that you should be?<br />
<br />
Tomorrow I say goodbye to my crew and the ache in my hip. But if you've ever seen a child really rejoice in God's love, then you know that I hope I don't say goodbye to those wonderful, childish qualities that children can instill in us, if we only let them.Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-32116721084437839792010-06-21T18:35:00.000-04:002010-06-21T18:35:12.577-04:00Crew Leader, Day OneToday Nativity began its Vacation Bible School. I am a crew leader again this year. This means I have a small group of 7 children, ages 5-10. We dance, listen to a Bible story, make crafts, pray, have a snack (today was Peter's Jail Mix!) and then collapse. Except I then had some meetings and work to do--so I collapsed later. I'm home now, resting and getting ready for day two.<br />
<br />
When asked where she saw God today, one little girl announced "I saw a bird eat a worm" (except it sounded like "I saw a buuuud eat a wuuuuum"). <br />
<br />
I saw God today too, in the eyes of tiny children.Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-85617197976097303422010-06-20T16:12:00.002-04:002010-06-20T16:17:17.261-04:00Vacation Planning<div style="text-align: justify;">In a break between Sunday Masses, I am at home, watching the World Cup and getting finances squared away, in anticipation of an upcoming vacation. Our friends have invited us to the Outer Banks to share their beach house for a week. This arrangement is very fortunate for us--it hasn't been a great tax paying year for the Leslies, and so we were originally planning to forgo a vacation away from home this year.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The hardest part of pre-vacation finances is writing that check for our giving. This has always been hard. It was hard the summers we went to the Bahamas and a cruise in the Caribbean, and it was difficult the springs we went to Italy and Disney World. Interestingly, it has not gotten easier with more modest vacations. There are two months when the giving checks hurt more than others: pre-Christmas and pre-vacation.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">But getting that money out of my hands is of paramount importance to me, especially during the seasons when it seems to increase my stomach acid to write the checks. I've learned that if I linger over it too long, it might not get done. One year, prior to Disney World, I hadn't done it when I intended. I was worried about having enough money to play with at Disney World, to be honest. Because we left for Disney World the next morning, I knew what I had to do. I drove a check to Nativity that night and managed to catch someone before the place was locked for the night.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It wasn't that I was so darn holy. It was that I knew it would bother me while I was on vacation. This is not because I felt guilty so much as it was a failure to follow a giving plan. Because I am now convinced that all "my" money isn't mine at all, I have a plan to give just a fraction of it away. All "my" money is really God's, of course, and therefore I need to deliver that rather small portion of giving money to a place where it's rightful owner can use it for His good.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, with intestinal fortitude from God and a cramp in my writing hand, I'm getting that check taken care of before I leave. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">He asks for so very little of our treasure. It seems even more disrespectful to withhold right before vacation. That would be biting the mouth that feeds me, I think.</div>Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-60323765899963142852010-06-17T15:15:00.000-04:002010-06-17T15:15:22.035-04:00MarketingI hate marketing. I hate the word. I hate what it means. I hate that I am supposed to do it.<br />
<br />
That seems a bit harsh, but much of it is true. When I was practicing law, I spearheaded marketing efforts for the firm for about a year, the year that coincided with my determination to leave law firm life. And yes, to some degree, those two facts were linked.<br />
<br />
I received an email today from an old law colleague in New York, whose firm was announcing (i.e., marketing) a new partner in their Chicago office. Lists of credentials and accomplishments and glowing words followed this new partner's name. I remember the days of writing copy for that sort of thing. There are many words we can use to describe that kind of marketing but we can all think of some that aren't appropriate for my PG rated blog.<br />
<br />
When I read this announcement, I actually felt relieved. Relieved that I didn't have to write that stuff anymore. Relieved that I didn't have that stuff written about me anymore. <br />
<br />
And yet, I still need to conquer marketing. It's not all bad (not even marketing for lawyers). And it's certainly a good thing when you market the saving power of God. I have to figure out that sweet spot so that I can market my skills, the skills of my ministers, and the ministries I oversee in a manner that suits my personality and my beliefs about how hard a sell should be.<br />
<br />
I've waited for divine revelation about marketing long enough. Apparently God wants me to put some effort into it.Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-86005158855811087752010-06-04T14:22:00.002-04:002010-06-04T14:29:26.110-04:00Asher Lev<div style="text-align: justify;">Today, on my day of rest, I have been reading. I decided to pick up my favorite novel of all time, <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Name-Asher-Lev-Chaim-Potok/dp/1400031044/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1275674925&sr=8-1">My Name is Asher Lev</a></i> by Chaim Potok. I have loved this book since I was in my early teens and have read it at least ten times. It is both a triumphant and sad story of a Hasidic Jew with a great gift as an artist, who struggles to follow his calling while he breaks his family's heart in the process. It is filled with Judeo-Christian imagery and themes, and in that sense, is particularly intriguing to me at this point in my life.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I think on some level, every persons struggles with the dichotomy in life of striking a path while hurting others in the process. Sometimes the chosen path is a right one, and sometimes it is a wrong one. In fact, upon reading <i>My Name is Asher Lev</i> at age 42 (as opposed to 14), it occurs to me for the first time that it is not so readily apparent all the time whether this man's chosen path is ultimately right or wrong, but rather it is always apparent how significant his choices are.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm no great artist (my famous Snoopy drawings aside), but I take away from this convicting book the truth that all choices, whether they seem large or small, are significant, and even the small ones ultimately lead us down a path that we may not realize is the <i>chosen</i> path until we look back at the clearing we've made in the journey.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, today I triumphantly recall some areas of my life with an understanding of how seemingly small choices turned into God honoring habits. I can also look back at other areas and recognize how off-course I wandered as a result of what I thought were insignificant choices with supposedly short term consequences.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">We are all Asher Levs.</div>Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-13622781783990046632010-05-27T23:40:00.000-04:002010-05-27T23:40:09.794-04:00Cooow!Tonight Maria Folsom-Kovarik, our director of adult ministry, treated staff and ministers to dessert at Cow, an independent Italian ice and gelato stand in Reisterstown. The trip (which was significant-about 25 minutes away) allowed us to avoid the storms in Northern Baltimore County, and gave us the opportunity to see Nativity people (and some of their offspring) outside of the church walls. It was a very nice time, as Maria fulfilled her Advent Conspiracy gift to those who volunteered for Nativity's Christmas Eve at the Maryland Fairgrounds.<br />
<br />
The Italian ice was delicious, even though mine was partially eaten by Nativity minister and all around agitator Jack Bovaird, and the company top notch.<br />
<br />
It is nice to do spontaneous and even strange things with your church friends.Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-56811322992421352882010-05-23T09:58:00.002-04:002010-05-23T10:00:25.150-04:00What's Next?<div style="text-align: justify;">On this dreary Sunday morning, I am at church. I have been reading about discipleship and listening to other church podcasts about how churches expose new members to what next steps for these new members. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Some churches have very extensive flow charts that set forth detailed steps of discipleship. They are impressive, but not terribly understandable to me. Some have nothing that is articulated. I am somewhere in between those two extremes at this point.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Though, maybe neither extreme is ideal. What's the point of a plan that no one can understand? Likewise, when you can't articulate your "next steps" plan, you really don't have one, at least not one that is useful.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Here was the most interesting plan I heard so far: your job as a Christian is to love one another (John 13; Matthew 22) and therefore, the natural consequence of loving everyone is that you come for the lost (Luke 15) to the ends of the earth (Acts 1). That means finding those away from God, introducing them to his son, and never stopping until you get everybody (which won't happen before you die).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Seems too simple. Maybe that's the genius of it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">And so my research continues.</div>Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-17876747490003697492010-05-19T20:36:00.000-04:002010-05-19T20:36:59.123-04:00The Best Experiences in God's CreationHere is my list today:<br />
<br />
1. Freezing ocean waves on your bare feet.<br />
<br />
2. Beautiful flat stones made smooth by the turbulent sea.<br />
<br />
3. Razor clam shells.<br />
<br />
4. The sun on the back of your neck.<br />
<br />
5. A dolphin swimming next to you.<br />
<br />
6. Salt water in your hair (but only for a few minutes).<br />
<br />
7. The stinging of broken shells under your feet.<br />
<br />
What's on your list?Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-9781624801113531692010-05-08T09:07:00.002-04:002010-05-08T12:48:26.348-04:00"Are You Kathleen from Nativity?"<div style="text-align: justify;">I hear those words more than I used to--"are you Kathleen from Nativity?" And when I do, my heart sinks.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Not because I don't like seeing people outside of church, but usually because I am quickly backtracking in my mind to make sure the words and behavior that preceded this recognition are Nativity-worthy. Was I being pleasant and patient right before (both traits I struggle to enforce in my character)? Was I rolling my eyes at the sky, or worse yet, another person? Did I do something silly?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I am a private person, a luxury I am being stretched to offer up to God, and he is taking away my anonymity. I recently started swimming on a masters' team ("masters" in swimming means "old," not "professional," like in golf). There are no fewer than 3 people swimming there with me who know me from church. Yikes. And in a swimsuit no less. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I can be at my most thoughtless in the swimming pool. I have often been accused of swimming down the middle of the lane, a major breach of lap swimming etiquette. I have very long arms and often slap others' hands while swimming. I have little patience with people who don't follow intervals or the practice workout to a tee. I've tended towards "this is my lane and you are lucky I'm deigning to share it with you."</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">This new lack of anonymity is God's check on my character flaws, I think. Not a test, but a check. To keep my tendencies to be sarcastic, impatient and sometimes just thoughtless in check, to keep these behaviors at bay. Hopefully, this means that as I have fewer times in my day when I can behave badly, new habits will form, habits like being pleasant, patient, and thoughtful of others.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">If only I didn't have to do this in the swimming pool. It's just an hour a day, God. And it's early in the morning when many people are irritable. Who'd notice?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Oh, I guess You would.</div>Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-68229031985185821782010-04-16T18:46:00.000-04:002010-04-16T18:46:04.970-04:00Sabbath<div style="text-align: justify;">Today is my day off. Kids were at school and Eric was working, so I had most of the day to myself, until 1 pm when my first child arrived home. I went to two bookstores (and only bought one book!), Starbucks, and Trader Joe's for some fun shopping. I came home, and while waiting for Devon to arrive from school, I took a nap.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I never take a nap, because if I do, it usually turns into a 3-4 hour sleep. But today I only had an hour, and it worked! I was only slightly groggy afterward I awoke. It seemed like a real Sabbath.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I even managed to stay away from my emails, work and personal, until about 3 pm or so. I'm working towards not checking emails at all on my Sabbath, but this is certainly a promising start.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Why is rest so hard for us as a culture? For me, there are 2 core issues:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">1. Worth: I tend to mistakenly believe that if I am not productive, at least "productive" as our culture defines it, then I'm not worthy. Worthy of what? Worthy of value as a person, of love by others. Sounds so silly, but many of us feel like that deep down.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">2. Arrogance: I also tend to think that things might crumble to the ground if I am not working at my job, running my household or stressing over financial matters. After a day of rest today, it is my observation that a) my place of employment seems to still be standing, b) my house has not been condemned by the authorities; and c) I am still solvent.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">When was the last day you experienced an actual Sabbath? By that I mean, not working at all, not making yourself do things that you didn't want to do, and instead choosing activities you wanted to do, that would rejuvenate you for the week ahead (or even choosing no activities at all). Well, I'm still not there, but I'm closer. Obviously for parents, a full 24 hour Sabbath really isn't in the cards until the kids are out of the house. And I need to stay away from technology on my Sabbath as well, since the lure of email popping into my Inbox while playing on the computer is simply too strong for my weak self. Small steps.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">What small step can you take this week to move closer to taking a real Sabbath, as God commanded us to do?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">P.S. One last note: typing my blog is not work to me, at least when I am not forcing the issue and trying to write when I have nothing to say. </div>Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378664321018050108.post-15079084597546501262010-04-07T21:46:00.002-04:002010-04-08T16:10:37.607-04:00Peter and Me<div style="text-align: justify;">Tonight I was reading the Gospel of John. I was struck by Peter: his actions, his words, and the words he didn't say. Peter did two things in John 18 that lingered on my mind: </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">-He cut off the ear of Malchus, the Roman soldier who was part of the attachment that seized Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane; and</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">-He denied Christ three times while Christ was being questioned by the high priest.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Commentary I was reading revealed interesting interpretations of these events: </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">-Peter shows courage in a situation where it was not desirable (Christ rebukes him for assaulting Malchus, instructing him to put his sword away as Christ is prepared to "drink from the cup" the Father gave him-in other words, to embrace his suffering and death soon to come); and</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">-Peter lacks courage in a situation where Christ desired support (he lied to others three times about being a follower of Christ).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I've never cut anyone's ear off (not counting an accidental snip of my oldest daughter's ear while trimming her hair when she was four) and I've never publicly, out loud, denied being a follower of Christ. But I have exhibited overconfidence and "courage" out of proportion to the perceived slight of another either to me or a loved one, and I have certainly failed to lead in areas where I need to lead. In fact, I can think of very prominent instances of these behaviors in the past week. And I have engaged in such apparently contradictory behaviors in close proximity to each other, just as Peter did.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">As often as I hear or read historical accounts in the Bible, it always surprises me to see how closely I act similarly to people who lived with Christ. I tend to see my faults first, so I often identify with the foibles of the disciples as well as those in opposition to Christ. I don't punish myself over it, but I do try to own those foibles. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It is comforting. Even the disciples engaged in spiritually immature behavior. I'm in good company. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">But I'm challenged to not stay there. It's my job to move away from that immaturity. Some days that goes well. Other days, I feel like I am taking three steps backwards for every two forward.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">One day at a time, I guess.</div>Kathleen Lesliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16054013250587033096noreply@blogger.com1