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The Proverbs 31 Challenge

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I finished chapter three in Radical today.  It’s been a slow read because I can’t seem to get through more than half a chapter without needing to put the book down to contemplate some things. 

Reading a book like this is a strange process.  As I read it I find myself following each sentence with an internal ”amen!”  But then quickly realizing that I, in reality, don’t know what I should do to actually make my life line up with what I’m being challenged to do. 

I want to go to the nations with the gospel, I want to do more as a Christian than just go to church, and I want to honestly live like God is the only important thing  to me and not care about my belongings.  But as I look at my day-to-day life and the things I spend my time doing I feel like a lot of times I’m missing the point.   

I work a full time job so with my weekdays 8-5 spent at a desk, I find myself trying to fit one thousand and one things into my 5-10pm weekday slots and of course my weekends.  Things like laundry, dishes, household cleaning, grocery shopping, additional shopping, attending cell group, meeting up with disciples, hanging out with friends, learning how to cook new recipies, reading, prayer, writing, maintaining my nailpolish, organizing our guest room (yes, still), showering, church, thinking of new ways to reach out to people, actually reaching out to people, staying on top of our finances, getting quarters from the bank for laundry machines, quality time with my husband, running or exercising, doctors appointments, oh yes and the 72 hour project of assembling our new bed from World Market and now disassembling it because the defective frame doesn’t hold the weight of 300 lbs worth of people.  Sigh.  I know, I know, and I don’t even have kids yet. 

I read about the Proverbs 31 wife today and I felt rather comforted.  She sounds busy.  And not only is she busy, but she is busy with rather mundane things that the Bible deems as worthwhile and honorable.  I’m still praying about how to incorporate more missional living into my daily life because despite what I have going on in my world I want to continually grow into a person who is outgoing, loving, and intentional with people I meet.  Yet, I suppose this week I’m also seeing the benefit of placing effort on becoming effective, efficient and strong for my husband and someday for my cute little blonde-haired family as well.  “Life’s a dance, you learn as you go,” as one country songs puts it.  So thank goodness that there’s grace as I do this high-energy Mambo.

After reading Proverbs 31 I rewrote it in my own words.  I’m by no means accurate in Bible translation but I sometimes find it helpful to put some scriptures into my own words.  It helps me own it and take it to heart.  Here’s what I came up with:

Proverbs 31: The Wife of Noble Character

“A woman like this is very rare and valuable; of the highest value

Her husband believes in her abilities and he has everything he needs

She brings him good not harm all the days of her life

She makes wise choices and provides food for her family

She gets up early

She takes care of those around her

She is educated and makes wise financial decisions; She invests in the future

She thinks a step ahead

She’s a hard worker and shoot, girlfriends got some muscle tone!

She makes sure her family has the basics and she’s skilled in many things

She has room in her life for the poor and the needy

When difficult circumstances arise she doens’t worry about her husband and children because she’s covered them in prayer and has trained them up in the Lord

She decorates her house and takes care of her appearance

Her husband is respected by other men in society

She does kind and thoughtful things for others

She fulfills important roles that benefit her community

She is clothed with strength and dignity

She can laugh at the days to come because her attitude believes the best about the future and her trust is in the Lord

She is wise and can give good and helpful instruction

She takes responsibility for what happens in her household and she doesn’t become lazy in doing so

Her children have wonderful things to say about her

And her husband also; he compliments and praises her

They will say she is the best wife and mother

Charm is cheap and beauty will fade away but a woman who fears the Lord will grow into all of these things

Let a woman like this receive a healthy, loving family and close relationships

And let her be known as a woman of love.

 

So here’s to the Proverbs 31 Challenge and to becoming more missional.  Anything for the glory of God!

Mission: Kidwells Become Runners By Christmas

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On November 15th of last year, a Monday, Jon and I set out to fulfill one of the highest and noblest of callings.  Through much hardship and training we were destined to leave behind the quiet comfort of our small, but fashionable apartment a few days a week and embark on forty minute long adventure sessions throughout the neighborhoods of west San Luis Obispo.  We were ferociously committed to claiming the coveted title of “Runner” and we set ourselves a goal of attaining such a status by the time Christmas rolled around. 

It all started, however, not out of a burning passion to run but out of my desire to keep Jon from whining about how he never had time to get outside and be active anymore.  I can say this without guilt of making him sound bad because in our relationship, ninety-nine percent of the time I am the one who is whining.  So on the rare occasions that Jon does begin to whine, it stands out like a farmer in New York City.  Completely out of place and I didn’t care for it.  So I came up with a solution.  “Why don’t we start running Jon?”  “I hate running.”  “Oh…”

So we spent a week or two coming up with ideas of different physically active hobbies we could get into.  The problem was that with each suggestion the likelihood that we would actually consistently continue to take part in that particular hobby was slim.  Surfing included cold water temperatures and the hassle of hauling the boards to the beach without a truck.  Biking seemed like it would get boring too quickly and I have always despised that burning feeling you get in your legs after a while.  Rock climbing involved paying for a membership at a local climbing wall.  Tennis failed because we weren’t good enough at playing to keep a rally going on very long, meaning that the level of physical intensity of tennis fell at about a two.  Jon ruled out yoga and pilates almost immediately because last year a friend took us to a local Bikram yoga class and I think Jon almost cried publicly.  So after this whole run-around of suggestions, the idea of running seemed to emerge as the obvious, inexpensive, convenient, and literally the only reasonable option. 

The first couple times we went running  sadly resembled the opening episodes of a Biggest Loser season with Jon as the loser and me as Jillian.  He hated it and wasn’t able to carry on a conversation because he was too focused on finding the will to continue.  I, on the other hand, also wondered if I could merge my life-long solo activity into a social one.  Growing up, running was my opportunity to get away from it all.  I relied on running to help clear my head and with the help of my iPod I entered into whatever kind of reality I preferred for that moment.  So it was difficult for both of us and also challenging to pull ourselves up and out of bed while the sun was still not shining and when our apartment felt cold. 

However something happened on run number five.  Up until that point we had been running before work around Laguna Lake until our lungs said, “no more”, but for run number five we decided to go in the evening after work and Jon used his Google Map skills to chart us a course where he could determine the length and grid ahead of time.  Bingo!  Jon has this thing for Google Maps and charting a course that goes way back to his trip to Europe and his adventurous, backpacker, thrill-seeker, travel guru days.  And because of his ahead of time planning, he actually enjoyed the run and was motivated enough to finish the course without my verbal help. 

After that day, things really took off and a few days later Jon informed me that he was going on a run without me.  I was baffled.  Then he informed me that he would be running a full five miles which was further than either of us had ever run together.  It’s a proud day and a sad one when the student far surpasses the teacher in both motivation and ability.  But he came back successful and sweaty and that was the day our real running adventures began. 

Since then we have enjoyed many more runs around town and the occasional special run on the Bob Jones Trail or up and over the sand dunes on the stretch of beach in Morro Bay.  One time we parked at the Madonna Inn and set off to tackle the Lemon Grove Trail on Madonna Mountain and ended up on the other side of downtown, trying to make it back to the car before dark.  My favorite excursion being the time we ran right along the water line of the ocean, where we joined the Snowy Plovers and receded along with the water and then sprinted for dry sand when the waves came tumbling into shore to devour our tennis shoes.  Snowy Plovers are my favorite bird and I like to mimic their strange but cute tendencies. 

And now that we have become accustomed to the rhythm of running together and our bodies have since adjusted to the physical output, running has become our favorite way to unwind from a busy day of mundane work in an office building.  In my opinion we are becoming more like old people at a young age, meaning we can do almost anything together and just enjoy the other’s company. 

This time of year the sun in just setting about the time we hit our halfway point and as we stride we talk about what’s happened, what’s happening and what’s just up ahead for us.  We admire all of the big and beautiful houses and talk about which ones we would want to buy if we had the means to.  Then we repent to the Lord because if we are ever given the ability to own a nice home in San Luis Obispo county it should be for his uses and glory, not for our own comfort.  Next we quote Paul Washer sermons to each other and talk about moving overseas so that we don’t fall into the trap of the American Dream of constantly upgrading our lifestyle and accommodations.  Our ongoing game is to make fun of all the ridiculous things people are watching on TV as we run by and look in their windows.  Finally, to further lighten the mood we talk about baby names because I am becoming increasingly obsessed with baby names and I don’t know why.                  

I keep talking about running a 10k this year while Jon still suggests he is marathon-bound one day.  For me on the other hand I am content running the daily short races and am not sure my knees would carry me through the wear-and-tear of a marathon anyway.  Soccer was brutal on my knees.  So, Mission: Kidwells Become Runners By Christmas?  Mission accomplished.

The Awkwardness of Airports

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Sitting in airports makes me completely uncomfortable.   There are few places in the world where so many people, from so many different walks of life are all gathered in a single place with nothing to do.  Everybody is bored, or reading, or nowadays they’re likely on a laptop or texting.  One third of people are physically here but by the look on their faces mentally they are somewhere far, far away.  Everyone is coming and going and caught in the middle of unfolding stories of life that they’re trying to figure out while purposfully avoiding eye contact with everyone else in the vicinity.  And I’m writing because I’m not sure what to do in situations like this.

This morning Jon and I are on a trek up to Washington to spend a week with my family.  We drove from San Luis Obispo to Oakland last night where we stayed in a Sleep, Park ‘N Ride hotel and we awoke this morning to billows of marijuana smoke coming in through our window because our neighbor on the floor below us was enjoying his 6am fix.  We ate a quick breakfast of dried out toast and Fruit Loops at the hotel’s continental breakfast and then we caught our shuttle to the Oakland airport.

And now at the airport, waiting for our flight I’m uncomfortable.  Because in moments like this I can’t decide how I should live out my Christianity.  And suddenly simply believing in God doesn’t seem to cut it.  It doesn’t seem to be changing the world unless I let the Lord Jesus live through me in moments like this.  But my coffee is still kicking in and I fear that by the time I wake up and decide what I should do I will already be on the plane on my way to somewhere else.

Sometimes I wonder if I complicate what God is really asking me to do.  Yet at the same time I am afraid to simply soothe myself, saying that just to go through my day with a positive attitude is enough.  As if me just breathing is enough to fulfill the Great Commission.  I have a reoccuring daydream at airports.  They usually consist of me stepping up on top of a chair and beginning to speak out all kinds of riveting things about God.  Telling the people that there is something worthwhile to hope in.  Soon a crowd is gathering to hear the good news and even the security guards who should be taking action against me can’t help but pull up a chair and listen to the dramatic illustration of  the greatest love story of all time.  However, as I imagine these epic scenarios my legs grow vines that wrap around the base of my chair and pretty soon I have roots that go twenty feet deep into the floor.

And I get really uncomfortable.  Stuck in between what I long to do and what I’m really willing to carry out at this moment.  However, all my thoughts and prayers about wanting to do something worthwhile with my day of travel didn’t go to waste.  After sitting around thinking about things for a while it was time to board our plane.  And after taking my sweet time to get my things together we were the second to last people boarding the aircraft.  Not a big deal until we realized that this was an open seating flight and because of my slowness Jon and I were likely going to be sitting on opposite ends of the plane.  Awesome.

Luckily, when we walked onto the plane it was not a full flight but almost every middle seat was open.  Again, really awkward.   Airports are awkward but it might be even more uncomfortable trying to choose which middle seat to take because you know that no matter who you sit next to they will be highly annoyed that someone ruined their opportunity for a spacious flight.  So we headed for the back of the plane hoping to find a few seats still open for us.  Near the back there were a few rows left with only one person seated so I carefully scanned each person, sizing them up, trying to determine their level of awkwardness so that i could choose who would be the least awkward person to sit next to.  There was a younger guy reading a book with headphones on that looked strangely angry and a middle age businessman that seemed to have some allergy symptoms going on so i took the middle seat next to a friendly looking 60-ish year-old Indian woman who was quietly playing with her phone.  She looked safe and i figured she may not even speak English, therefore making her a promising candidate for my flight company.

She didn’t say much at first and eventually we made a little bit of small talk, exchanging our names and such.  I pulled out my pillow to prepare to sleep through the next one hour and forty-one minutes of air time, but instead the thought crossed my mind that maybe a second best option to dramatic airport preaching, was to explore a little with my neighbor.  Besides, Jesus not only preached to crowds but he made time for a bunch of people along the way.

I’m glad I made that decision because I spent the next hour and thirty minutes listening intently to this woman tell me all about her experiences in India and in America, about her two college-aged sons, about the changing social and family trends in the US, and about the heartbreak surrounding her husband running off with his secretary last year. She told me how she loved the independence and freedom that America had given her because as a 5’6″ woman who prefered pants over lavish dresses that reached the floor, in India she was often mocked for her giant-like height and tom-boy appearance.  But she said the price she paid for her independance was the slow but steady breakdown of her family and the independant spirit that had caused her boys to move far away from home and that lead her husband to cheat on her for over three years in her own home.  She also told me about how she was a Muslim and how her husband was a Hindu, but that in India everyone is either Muslim, Hindu or Catholic and that religion is all just ways of teaching your children family values anyway so it was easy for them to coexist together in different religions.

It’s funny because I find that talking to people about Jesus is fairy easy when they don’t have much of a religious background, but I’ve always had a bit of an issue talking about Jesus with people who are already devoted to another religion.  I’m not sure why, but the thought has always made me feel a little bit intimidated and small and I quickly become afraid to offend.  So depsite my fear I decided to be brave and I asked her what she thought about Jesus.  And to be honest it didn’t really go anywhere too deep because she stated simply that he was a prophet just like Muhammad.  However a few minutes later after a solid hour and a half of listening, God gave me an eleven minute window to share my testimony and the truth about what God had done in my life over the past couple years.

I don’t know exactly what that woman, whose name I still find difficult to pronounce, thought about everything I shared.  Our flight ended shortly after I finished my story and after a few kind remarks we parted ways as I headed off to baggage claim.  But you never know what God will do with the tremendous seeds that we plant for His sake.  And for myself personally, it was a great life lesson because I don’t always choose the path of friendliness, of having time to hear someone out, or the one where you choose to get over the awkwardness and start a conversation, but I do know that I seldom regret being that kind of person.

I pray for that sweet woman.  God loves her very much and I pray she comes to realize just how sweet it is to trust in Jesus.

She Took One More Step

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She Took One More Step

She took one more step.  As soon as her heel lifted out of the sand the winds blew and covered her last track with the fine, tan particles.  And so with every step it was though she had never taken any steps before.  The progress seemed nonexistent, even though she knew very well she was moving forward; towards the somewhere she knew in her heart existed.  Yet her inability to see her own tracks in the sand made the journey appear bleak and uncharted.  Her blood, once hot with passion, had cooled enough to where she felt twinges of numbness come over her sporadically. 

She took one more step.  As she breathed in a deep breath she glanced down at the small, purple desert flower she still held in her hand and she thought of his name.  An explosion went off in her heart like a sonic boom.  He was undeniable.  And it was true that at the mention of his name something inside her leapt with joy and desperation; a longing for new life to permeate her very being, for even the rocks cry out.  She smiled, though she tried to resist the outward expression of happiness, for it contradicted her chosen posture for the moment.  But she smiled for a moment and then she pressed on with resolute seriousness and took another step. 

There was nothing glamorous about this part of the journey, but as he kept reminding her in small whispers and nudges, it was absolutely necessary to the master plan.  She knew it was true too, but for some reason she continued to fight against the very hand that held her up.  Her stubbornness was either her jewel or her sackcloth, depending on what she used it for.  Right now it was her sackcloth for she refused to wear a smile in the desert.  She refused to pretend and saw genuine contentment as a far off notion, a silly idea of the optimist’s diluted imagination.

She remembered how just a few weeks earlier he’d surrounded her with thornbushes, a byproduct of her own request.  But she hated it.  The sharp shards of disappointment stung her with every slight movement.  She tried to get out, but quickly accepted her momentary fate. For the scriptures say,

“Therefore I will block her path with thornbushes;    I will wall her in so that she cannot find her way.    She will chase after her lovers but not catch them;    she will look for them but not find them…

Therefore I am now going to allure her;    I will lead her into the wilderness    and speak tenderly to her.  There I will give her back her vineyards,    and will make the Valley of Trouble a door of hope. There she will respond as in the days of her youth,    as in the day she came up out of Egypt.”

 

She tried to speak to him but her murmurs were faint.  She knew that he would not respond until she learned how to smile in the desert and trust from a place of unfamiliarity.  She knew this yet she tarried.  She wrestled with her own ideas and decided today was not the day. 

But she knew in her heart that she’d get there because of His faithfulness.  His kindness can melt even the most brick-laden of hearts. 

She took one more step.