Mighty Mountains

I've been on two mountains in my entire life.

I heard a sermon recently that brought me back to both of them.

In the sermon, the pastor told a story about the Swiss Alps. Apparently, large groups of people can climb the Swiss Alps together. There is a chalet of sorts that meets them at the halfway point. The chalet is filled with all things comfortable: warmth, resting places, food and drink. The chalet is so stinkin' comfortable, that on average, about 25% of the group members choose not to proceed to the top of the Alps. They are satisfied with how far they have come, and the comfort has drawn them in and beckoned them to stay.

For awhile, they are content with their decision. But then, while they gaze through binoculars at their fellow group members who are high-fiving at the summit, regret begins to creep in. The realization hits that they have sacrificed their goal for a relatively cheap comfort.

As the group reunites and reaches their collective starting point, it is clear to see by the brightness of their countenance those who reached the summit and those who tarried by comfort's side.

The reason this story struck a chord with me is because it flat out convicted me.

Like I mentioned earlier, I have been on two mountains in my entire life.



The first one was Flat Top, located in Anchorage. Flat Top, true to its name, has a - wait for it - flat top. In the spring and summer months, once the snow has melted away, it is possible to hike all the way to the top without gear.





One day when my mom and stepdad had recently moved there and my brother and I were home for the summer, the four of us decided to "go on a little hike". Or so I thought.

It wasn't long into the "hike" when I realized - I was not cut out for that business. I muttered, I sputtered, I thought constantly of turning around. As we inched our way past tiny pathways and steep climbs, I agonized.

However, to those that I was with, turning around was not an option. They marched forward and by right of my own pride, I followed. It was one of the toughest things, physically, that I have ever done.







But when the four of us sat atop the summit and gazed victoriously over Anchorage, the sense of accomplishment was surreal. My legs might still have shaken the whole way back down and then been sore for days afterwards, but that couldn't take away from the fact that I had done it. I had done it when I literally thought over and over and over that there was no way I could.



The second mountain that I found myself on was Table Mountain in Cape Town, South Africa. Renowned for its beauty, Table Mountain offers one of the most beautiful views in the world. The higher up you go, the more rewarding the beauty you behold.

There was a whole crew of us visiting Table Mountain, enjoying a day of rest in the midst of a missions trip. You can get about halfway up Table Mountain by hiking or driving, but in order to get to the summit, you have to take a cable car. In order to take the cable car, you have to pay about $10.

Not really that steep of a cost to see such an amazing view.

However, on this particular day, I was tired. I was tired AND I felt poor. I was tired and I felt poor AND I had friends with me that also weren't really desiring to pay the price and take the ride.

About 5 of us opted out that day in order to head back to our hostel and unwind with a good book. At the time it felt like the right decision. But about the time I started seeing everyone else's photos of that day, the regret started to seep in. This is what I missed that day:

 

When I think back about the two mountains that I have been on, I look back on one with joy and a victorious feeling; I look back on the other with regret because I know that I took the easy and comfortable way out.

There are few guarantees in life, but it is almost certain that we will all face metaphorical mountains at various times.

I know I've faced a few.

Comparing my experiences on these two remarkable mountains and applying them to the metaphorical mountains, I see several real life applications.

1. When climbing a mountain - especially one you are unprepared for - it is detrimental to have others alongside you spurring you on. At times, they may need to simply encourage; at other times, they may have to inspire you by climbing themselves. At the worst times, they may need to literally push your butt up the mountain. They are essential to success. 

2. Don't allow a mediocre cost prevent you from a magnificent view. 

3. Comfort is a deceiving distraction from reaching the summit. Do not allow the allure of a cozy lodge or a good book at the hostel sway your goal to climb the mountain. Do the work and stay focused, because there are some regrets for which you won't get a second chance. 

Mountains - realistically and figuratively - are exhausting, gut-wrenching, and testing.

But I understand that the view is more than worth all that trouble.

Hotel Exploration

I am sitting in a hotel in Huron, SD, while my sweet boy naps and my husband attends meetings. Finn has loved exploring the hotel and Matt is really enjoying getting to know others through the A/G district.

And me? I am having fun too - although I am grossly disappointed at this hotel's lack of a continental breakfast. Isn't that just a "thing" that ALL hotels do these days? Sigh. I do love a good continental breakfast.

The room is dark as I sit here typing. I would turn on the tv but Finn needs his rest as he has been out of sorts and short on sleep the last day or so; I can't risk it! So I am left with my thoughts and my computer: a dangerous combo :).

As I mentioned before, Finn is on a mission to discover every nook and cranny of this hotel. As we have journeyed through this building the last 24 hours or so, we have had a couple of not so pretty moments as he has bravely tried to go where he is not allowed to go: conference rooms, a restaurant, other people's hotel rooms....

Heaven help me, my son is starting to throw tantrums when he gets diverted from his desired path.

Is it okay to admit that I don't always perfectly keep my cool when he does that? When he kicks and lays on the ground and cries out, I get embarrassed. When I get embarrassed, I get more easily frustrated with him.

In my head, I try to stay calm and on point. I try to teach in the moment - to get him behaving before we move away from the situation, to ignore the stranger stares and put the discipline of my son first.

But it is difficult! I get flustered so easily; sometimes I pick him up and shuffle him away in order to restore the peace for the strangers.

For me, I find that I handle these temperamental outbursts of his lightyears better if I am prepared for them. If I am really on top of things, I can often distract him away from the places he can't go before he even wants to go there. Earth shattering, I know.

I think the enormity of the problem comes when I get lazy or preoccupied (lost in thoughts, talking on the phone, texting). Because then I am underprepared and vulnerable to ambush, so to speak.

I tried this theory out later this afternoon and it definitely went better - I was not so easily flustered because I was armed: armed with preparation.

There were still a couple of minor incidences, but we glossed over those fairly easy peasey.

Does the crux of parenting truly lie in staying invested, even when tempted to check out - mentally, physically, emotionally?

So it would seem................so it would seem.

I really wish there was more to do in Huron.

Shoulds and Shouldnt's

This weekend, I willingly offered up nearly 3 hours of my precious time getting sucked into a movie on Netflix: "Lost in Austen". The premise of this movie is basically that a modern day Londoner (Londonite?) who is obsessed with "Pride and Prejudice" ends up swapping places with Elizabeth Bennett. While she tries to take control of the story in order to make sure that things end up as they should (Jane with Bingley, Charlotte with Collins, Lydia NOT with Wickham), she of course ends up falling in love with Darcy. This much is understandable to me. However, the 3 hours became irredeemable as the movie ended; this new lady and Darcy proclaimed their love and ultimately ended up together. Errr, what?!

As a touted romantic, there are just certain unalienable truths.

Noah belongs with Allie. 

Zack belongs with Kelly. 

Ross belongs with Rachel. 

Gilbert belongs with Anne. 

Darcy belongs with Elizabeth. 

Period. No erasees. 

Any attempts to modernize these truths and thereby change them result in me rolling my eyes in frustration. Some things are just meant to be. These things should just be.

Right?

I'm a big fan of should. I'm a rule follower. I color inside the lines. I never had a single detention, or even a warning.

I remember when I was living down in Arkansas, I met my sister and her boys at the mall with the little boy I nannied at the time. As we were trying to make our way to the second floor, Kiki suggested we use the nearby escalator instead of treading over a ways to the elevator. As she positioned her stroller filled with boys onto the escalator, I was getting ready to follow with my own stroller when I noticed a sign that said, "No strollers on the escalator". I hesitated and questioned Kiki about it. What if we got in trouble??? She rolled her eyes at me and I'm pretty sure she made fun of me. And then she continued on her way. So I sheepishly followed.

I feel like in my faith, "should" has been something that I have continued to wrestle with God. The longer that I live, the more I realize that the "shoulds" and "shouldn'ts"of life are an illusion - there to make us feel as though we have some sort of control in this crazy, unpredictable life.

Children shouldn't suffer from terminal illnesses.
Children should live longer than their parents.
There shouldn't be people starving in others countries.
We should always keep our patience while driving - even around Iowans.
I shouldn't get frustrated when my son tests his boundaries.
I should always be filled with belief and never feel anxious.

The examples go on and on. The only thing, really, that matters though is where we are led through all the shoulds and shouldn'ts. It is difficult to completely suspend our beliefs about certain matters. Shoulds and shouldn'ts will always exist somewhere in our minds.

But do we leave them there and grow bitter and anxious with everything that doesn't go the way we deem it needs to go?

Or do we surrender those very things, humbly admitting that we do not know all and that no matter what happens, we are cradled in God?

I think that sometimes our expectations, our shoulds and shouldn'ts, cause us to turn away from God and question what in the world He is doing. We reject what He is offering us in a given moment.

"Dare I ask what I think I deserve? A life of material comfort? A life free of all trials, all hardship, all suffering? A life with no discomfort, no inconveniences? Are there times that a sense of entitlement - expectations - is what inflates self, detonates anger, offends God, extinguishes joy? And what do I really deserve? Thankfully, God never gives what is deserved, but instead, God graciously, passionately offers gifts, our bodies, our time, our very lives.....proudly refusing to accept this moment, dismissing it as no gift at all, I refuse God. I reject God." - Ann Voskamp One Thousand Gifts

I was listening to a sermon today that discussed the crucifixion of Jesus. What stood out to me the most was the following:

"When Jesus Christ Himself said, "Come to me", God turned away from Him. In other words, Jesus got the abandonment we deserved. Jesus was calling for God and God turned His face away, so that when we say to God, "Turn Your face away', God will come. Because He experienced what we should have received, and therefore He can be understanding....." - Dr. Timothy Keller

That's the biggest "shouldn't" there ever was. Jesus dying for us, taking our punishment. We should have to pay the price of our own sin against God. Jesus shouldn't have to die for crimes he never committed. But because that "shouldn't" happened, we can trust God with the entirety of our lives - even that which doesn't make sense. Even when we reject and turn away, God comes.

If we can surrender the shoulds and shouldn'ts of life and trust in the strength of God's arms to hold us, the power of God's love to save us, and the sovereignty of God's knowledge to guide us, there is nothing to fear.

Pearl

Yesterday was a very important day for me - I had to see my inaugural client. Yes, I actually got to the point in my program where I get to counsel living, breathing people who are dealing with life.

I was so excited and nervous at the same time; I felt as though there was a load of responsibility on my shoulders, but at the same time it felt it belonged. It felt like the load that I had been expecting and hoping for the past few years as I have taken classes. It all felt right.

Before I left the house yesterday morning, I was trying to calm the butterflies fighting for attention in my belly. I happened to glance at my pearl ring and realized that it was just what I needed to help me.

My pearl ring is very special to me. I got it a couple of years ago for Christmas, and it was actually something that I had been wanting for awhile. I am not much of a jewelry adorner (except for my multitude of feather earrings :)) but I have always been drawn to pearl jewelry.

As cheesy as it sounds, it is because my name means "pearl".

Growing up, I always hated my name. I longed to be called by something cute and feminine - Nicki or Tiffany or Kelly Kapowski - something like that. There isn't a lot of room for cuteness or femininity in Gretchen.

But my mom had prayed for one more baby, a little girl that she could name Gretchen who would look cute in braids. She never even told my dad what they were naming me until after I was born - it was her little secret. Maybe she was afraid someone would try to talk her out of it? :)

I wore a lot of braids growing up.

I didn't really start to embrace my "Gretchen-osity" until I was in my early 20's. It was then that I really latched onto the meaning of my name. Pearl. That which starts as an irritant invading an oyster's shell, becomes a lovely pearl. At that time in my life, I was trying to define who I was and why I was. Embracing my name meaning was a part of that, as it made me feel that if I could learn to welcome the irritants of life, they would work me into something beautiful......eventually.

It was for that very reason that when we were looking at baby names, I was dead set on finding names that meant something. We decided on Finn not only because we love the name, but also because it means small, fair soldier. I remember that when we first saw his ultrasound picture and decided he would be Finn, Matt said, "David was a small soldier too!". Every time I would get anxious about his well-being in my ever-expanding belly, I would tell myself, "No! He is a soldier, a fighter; he is just fine!"

So anyway, I like pearls. When I see a pearl, it reminds me that I am still being made beautiful.

As I was gearing up for my client session, I would touch my pearl ring and remember who I am and that I am called to do this very thing: listen, help, encourage.

There's a certain peace that comes in knowing I am doing what I am meant to do.

O The Blood

Gosh, it feels like forever since I have written here. Two weeks ago was a crazy busy week trying to fit things in and get ready for Minneapolis and Dave Barnes. This past week we have all been sick, sick, sick and blogging has been near the bottom of my to-do list. And at the top? Keep breathing, take more meds, drink more water.

But I feel compelled to write today. I was driving home from church today and was listening to one of my favorite new worship songs: "O The Blood". I have been wanting Matt to do this song on a Sunday for a couple months now, and last week he finally obliged :). There is just something about this song, an anointing, that makes me cry almost every time that I hear it. So today, as I am shamelessly driving and sickly singing and ugly crying to this song, I began to wonder about how the lyrics might sound to someone who did not grow up in church.

After all, to those who aren't familiar with "church lingo" or know nothing of Christ's sacrifice, singing about blood(?) might seem a little.............strange.

O the blood, crimson love
Price of life's demand
Shameful sin, placed on Him
The hope of every man


O the blood of Jesus washes me
O the blood of Jesus shed for me
What a sacrifice, that saved my life
Yes the blood, it is my victory


Savior Son, Holy One
Slain so I can live 
See the Lamb, the Great I Am
Who takes away my sin


O the blood of the Lamb
O the blood of the Lamb
O the blood of the Lamb
The precious blood of the Lamb
What a sacrifice, that saved my life
Yes the blood, it is my victory


O what love, no greater love
Grace, how can it be
That in my sin, yes even then
He shed His blood for me

I talk a lot about God on this blog, because this blog represents my life and God is the center of my life. The characteristic I am most attracted to writing about God is His incredible love. To me, it is His most defining characteristic, the driving force behind everything else.

When I think about explaining the lyrics of this song to someone who did not grow up in church, I hope that what they would most sense would be God's abiding and infinite love. However, to be brutally honest, I don't have a lot of experience talking through my faith with those who aren't Christians. Since I rededicated my life to God when I was 14, I have dwelled in a large, comfy bubble of Christian family and friends. In high school, my best friends were my youth group and the Christian group at school. In college, a Christian university, the vast majority of my friends - except for a few, special friends I met while serving at Old Spag - were Christians. Arkansas? All friends I met while working with Chi Alpha, a Christian ministry. Alaska? All friends I met at church.

For that reason, I have never really had to share my faith. It was already shared. A couple of meager attempts that I made as a self-righteous teenager resulted in a wounded relationship with my brother and  feeling pretty puffed up about the whole situation. I wish I could take that back.

All of that to say, looking through those lyrics and singing them whole-heartedly, I know what they mean to me. I feel the aching love course through my bones with each word.

But how do I explain the blood? How do I share the meaning of the cross and sacrifice that Jesus made for us? How do I express the pull of my heart, the peace, the power, the love?

I don't know.

Maybe it will come in time. When it does, I pray that the self-righteousness of my high school years has been completely stripped away so that all that meets the person I am speaking with is the pure, unbridled love of God.

Until I can explain myself better, I guess this blog is the best source I have for expressing my faith.

More than anything, I just want people to know that God loves them. God loves them enough to send His Son to die in their place so that they could live with Him in heaven forever. Even in the utter depths of our human uglies, God loves us all enough to do whatever needed to bring us to Himself.

Maybe its best to keep it simple.

Ungraceful Teetering

I can't say this with 100% certainty, but I think that everyone has an issue or two (or three, four, five) that they seem to deal with over and over again. Try as we might, there are some inner battles that we continue to wage year after year.

Anger. Depression. Insecurity. Pride. Lust. Jealousy. I could go on.....

One of these struggles for me is anxiety, which I have talked about through this forum many times. Writing about it helps me to keep my wits about me and helps me to focus on what really matters: God, His plan, and His many blessings to me.

I was reading this article earlier today about anxiety and I found myself identifying with the author more than I would have liked. I, too, have dealt with anxiety on and off throughout my life.

I remember when I was 9 years old and we had just moved into a new house after my parent's divorce. For the first time, my bedroom was upstairs, away from the action on the main floor. Kiki's room was right across the hall, but as she is 7 years older than me, we didn't exactly go to bed at the same time. Once I was "put to bed", I remember that I would lie awake and wonder what I would do if our house caught on fire and I was stuck all by myself upstairs, forgotten, with no one to hear me. I pictured myself tying all of my sheets together to fashion a rope to reach the ground. I envisioned trying to jump from my window and receiving broken bones in the process. There were even times when my dramatic mind would get carried away and I wondered if someone in my family might even start the fire and leave me alone. Heavy stuff for a 9 year old.

Another example that remains clear in my memory is from when I was in high school. We had moved again, across town. My mom had since remarried and she and my stepdad, like most couples, had frequent date nights. If they would not be home at the time they said they would, I would sit at the front window and stare down the street hoping to catch a glimpse of their car. This was before the age of cell phones, so I couldn't reach them that way, however I did call a restaurant once or twice wondering if they were still there or if they had left and how long ago? I would picture these terrible car accidents and police cars pulling into our driveway to deliver the bad news. I would work myself into a tizzy, crying genuine tears and tied up in knots not to be undone until I heard the roar of the garage door.

A vivid imagination does not serve an anxious spirit well.

To this day, my mind can get carried away with the "what ifs" of life. There are certain circumstances that I face from time to time that seem to trigger a greater level of anxiety in my heart and mind.

God keeps bringing me back to this verse:

"Don't be afraid. I've redeemed you. I've called your name. You're mine. When you're in over your head, I'll be there with you. When you're in rough waters, you will not go down. When you're between a rock and a hard place, it won't be a dead end - Because I am God, your personal God. The Holy of Israel, your Savior. I paid a huge price for you...That's how much you mean to me! That's how much I love you! I'd sell off the whole world to get you back, trade creation just for you. So don't be afraid: I'm with you."

Isaiah 43:1-5 (MSG)

The reoccurrence of this issue reminds me of the waves in the ocean: a wave comes, then passes. Then another comes...and passes. And so on. There are times that I feel like I may get sucked under the water when I call on the promise of the verse above: "When you're in over your head, I'll be there with you. When you're in rough waters, you will not go down." These words give me the power and strength that I need in order to learn how to face and ride these waves. And the next time a wave comes, I will be even better at riding it. Pro surfer, baby. Riding the waves will become more natural the more that I do it. 

In dealing with the waves, I have teetered ungracefully from frustration to sadness to surrender. Though I am tempted to recoil in fear from what ails me, I know that it needs to be faced head on. What I fear needs to be dealt with, otherwise it keeps the power and I am a scared little girl in the corner of the room. But "God is strong, and he wants you strong." Ephesians 6:10 (MSG)

So today, I do not shrink back. "But we're not quitters who lose out. Oh, no! We'll stay with it and survive, trusting all the way." Hebrews 10:39 (MSG)

Because I am more than a conqueror in Christ: "But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us" Romans 8:37 (MSG)

No more recoiling. I am a fighter and I do not go into battle alone. "For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you 'Do not fear; I will help you'." Isaiah 41:13 (NIV)

How to Multiply Tears

Regular readers of this blog know that I love to compare the things I am learning by being Finn's mom to the relationship that I have with God.

For example: here - and here - and here. This is going to be one of those.

I wrote once about the delight that I took in my son. He was perfect, he was sweet, he was loving. At the time, I wondered if I would continue to feel that delight in Finn even once he got older and wasn't so easily..........lovable.

As he is delving deeper into that toddler stage and has begun to challenge me in numerous ways, the easy answer to my ponderation above is: yes. I still delight in him. More than I can say really. Although I do get frustrated more often than I did when he was an innocent baby, I actually find that despite that frustration, my delight in him grows every day. I think this is because he is developing more of his personality and I love every piece of it. Yes, even the tough spots. The tough spots just mean that there is some training that needs to be done because he doesn't know any better.

Sometimes, however, it isn't so easy to deal with my frustration or his limit testing. Sometimes my patience hits its ceiling. Sometimes my cool goes up like a puff of smoke.

I have found that when this happens, it only makes it worse for Finn. For example, if he is fussing and whining and crying and my tone of voice is gruff and harsh, it only makes him cry all the harder. This is heartbreaking to see - that I caused my son to cry harder because of my impatient reaction. It amazes me, but sometimes he can even tell that I am frustrated by the way I say, "Stop", or by the look on my face; sometimes these are all that are needed to multiply his tears.

However, when I am able to push past my frustration (easier said than done) and respond to him in love - with soft tones, soothing touches, and infinite patience for his woes - his response to me is beautiful. He calms, he rests, he ceases fighting.

As he was sitting in my lap today I was thinking of this and it hit me: when I act in a wrong way, a way that is prideful, selfish, angry, I sometimes use guilt as an umbrella which to hide under. When I do this, I picture God being angry with me, speaking in gruff, harsh tones to me, maybe even giving me little eye rolls as I try to correct my behavior: "Yeah, nice try, Gretchen. Let's see how long it is this time before you mess up again...tick, tock....".

My mind has tried to mold God to fit an image I have of myself as a parent. Why do I compare God to the worst parts of me when really, He is all of the best parts of me, except a bajillion times magnified? He's the only reason I am loving, or kind, or gracious at all. How small I have made God and how presumptuous to think that although I am able to control myself and offer grace and love to Finn when he is crying at me, that when God hears me crying He turns His face in impatience.

Where I am merciful, God is infinitely moreso. Where I am patient, God's patience knows no end. Where I offer love in the face of a cry, God offers love and healing and rest.

God knows the power that love has. He knows that it can disarm; it can soothe; it can replenish. That is why God always approaches us in love and with love. He knows it does more for our wounded hearts than scolding us ever could. "God told them, 'I've never quit loving you and never will. Expect love, love, and more love!'" Jeremiah 31:3 (MSG).

To be clear, I am not talking about flaunting open rebellion in God's face here. That kind of thing isn't handled in quite the same manner; He has other ways to deal with that bizness.

I am talking about well-intentioned screw ups. I am talking about trying our very best to do the right thing and still never getting it right. I am talking about humanness.  Psalms 103:14 states, "For He Himself knows our frame; He is mindful that we are but dust." (NASB). When I was searching for this verse, I read through the entire psalm. It basically says what I am saying.....only better. David was almost as effective with a pen as he was with a sling - am I right or am I right? Eh? Eh? Or am I right?

"O my soul, bless God. From head to toe, I'll bless his holy name! O my soul, bless God, don't forget a single blessing!

He forgives your sins - every one

He heals your diseases - every one. 

He redeems you from hell - saves your life!

He crowns you with love and mercy - a paradise crown. 

He wraps you in goodness - beauty eternal. 

He renews your youth - you're always young in his presence.

God makes everything come out right; He puts victims back on their feet. 

He showed Moses how he went about his work, opened up his plans to all Israel. 

God is sheer mercy and grace; not easily angered, he's rich in love. 

He doesn't endlessly nag and scold, nor hold grudges forever. 

He doesn't treat us as our sins deserve, nor pay us back in full for our wrongs. 

As high as heaven is over the earth, so strong is his love to those who fear him. 

And as far as sunrise is from sunset, he has separated us from our sins. 

As parents feel for their children, God feels for those who fear him. 

He knows us inside and out, keeps in mind that we're made of mud. 

Men and women don't live very long; like wildflowers they spring up and blossom, 

But a storm snuffs them out just as quickly, leaving nothing to show they were here. 

God's love, though, is ever and always, eternally present to all who fear him. 

Making everything right for them and their children as they follow his Covenant ways

and remember to do whatever he said.

God has set his throne in heaven; he rules over us all. He's the King!

So bless God, you angels, ready and able to fly at his bidding, quick to hear and do what he says. 

Bless God, all you armies of angels, alert to respond to whatever he wills. 

Bless God, all creatures, wherever you are-everthing and everyone made by God. 

And you, O my soul, bless God!"

Psalm 103 (MSG)

He knows that we are human and fragile. In the face of endless screw-ups, He uses love and mercy that know no end. Because He is love and mercy and there is no end to Him.