Where Were You?

Long before Gandalf stood on a bridge and declared " You Shall Not Pass!" to a flaming demon, God issued a similar decree to the waters of the seas:

"Thus far shall you come, and no farther, 

and here shall your proud waves be stayed"

Unlike Gandalf, who cried out in defiance of the balrog, God issues his statement as a someone who already has mastery. It is a command. No confrontation, no questions of authority, just a declarative statement.

I love the power of that statement. The waves in their pride and anger and rage and persistence are themselves a symbol of power and of uncontrollable force and determination. And God doesn't bat an eye as he turns to them and says "that's enough". We see this later in scripture when Jesus controls the winds and waves with a simple command. No power struggle.

Oh that my faith would reflect such a powerful God. A quick look at my life reveals that the functional God of my faith is small and weak compared to the God of scripture. 

I often sing the following to my children:  "My God is so big, so strong, and so mighty, there's nothing my God cannot do!" And then after they are in bed I go back to worrying and doubting and wondering if God is willing or able to work in my life or in the world.

Difficult relationships consume me and I forget that God is a God of reconciliation and redemption.

Or I worry about politics and culture shifts as if God hasn't declared and revealed his sovereignty over rulers and leaders and nations.

Or housing markets decline or the economy turns and I forget that the God I serve, who loves me, owns the cattle on a thousand hills. Indeed all of creation is his.

Or the world presents temptations and attempts to persuade me that God isn't who scripture reveals Him to be. And the temptations and arguments linger in my head and heart and I, like Job and his friends, can begin to question, or grumble or put my trust in savings, health, and a million other little things.

This passage of Job, which reveals the fullness of God's wisdom and knowledge and declares His power and authority, is such a good reminder to those of us with fickle faith and weak hearts. The same God who established the boundaries of the seas and placed the stars in the skies and ordered the seasons also sees us and loves us and reveals himself in us.

Lately, in my struggles and grumblings and frustrations, I have felt convicted that my view of God is pretty small. Thankfully, this Job passage helps steer my eyes back to the great, immeasurable power of God.

A favorite song of mine, taken from Job 38 has been a good reminder of my big, sovereign, and loving God. I hope it can encourage you by way of reminder that your struggles, worries, sufferings, and hardship are not too big for Him.

Why There Are No Perfect Parents

Chief among the difficulties that parenting has brought to my life is the exposure of my own ineptitude. It turns out that raising children involves a lot of work that requires a wide range of skills and competencies. Most of my foibles are of the pretty innocuous variety. They show up when said skills and competencies are suddenly needed to keep my kids safe/clean/alive. All appearances aside, I know that all of you striving-to-be-the-best-parent-you-can folks are in the same boat.

The truth is that we are all grossly under-equipped as parents. For example, no one told me before becoming a parent that I would have to learn to hold in laughter when everything in my body is trying to burst out in gut-busting hysterics. For instance, when:

• my charming, handsome 2 year old son yells "look Mom" only to squat down and rip off a fart so big that the gas must have filled his entire GI tract.
• tears flow out of the eyes of my sweet, but often ridiculously emotional, daughter because she doesn't want the Easter Bunny to know how she got a comb stuck in her hair.
• mispronunciations from my children produce accidental innuendos that would draw immediate censure from the FCC.

Parenting classes should teach laughter restraint if they really wanted to be helpful.

Another parenting skill I lack is making wise decisions about age appropriate learning for my children. I love seeing my kids exploring, learning, and trying new things. The problem is I don't filter the "Aaron can do this" scenarios through the "should a 2/5/7 year old do this" filter. This explains why:

• my then 2 year old daughter ended up on the roof with me watching the sunset after I finished cleaning the gutters (my wife loooooooved this one).
• all of my children have tasted hot sauce, limes, unsweetened cranberry juice (which is horrible!) and other things at far too early an age. In my defense my eldest does now enjoy mildly spicy foods.
• my kids have all been asked by me to "not tell mommy about this."

I keep praying that God would give me more wisdom in this arena but when I am in the moment it has always been easier to forge ahead. How my wife stays sane, yet alone alive, while having to deal with me on top of our kids is a mystery.

It is likely that I survived to adulthood largely on account of my mother's prayers. My being married at all certainly is proof that she prayed well. She did her best to get me and my brothers housebroken and able to care for ourselves. However, I have found that as a parent I probably don't have some of the self-care stuff figured out as well she would have hoped. For example:

• I can't for the life of me help my kids match their clothes. I have a hard time disagreeing with my daughter's assessment that two differently colored/patterned clothing items match because they are both floral. Flowers are flowers right?
• My children think that a doughnut is a perfectly acceptable and healthy breakfast choice. If it is good enough for daddy it is good enough for them.
• Like their father, my kids are convinced that while at the cabin a jump in the lake is as good as a shower or bath regardless of how long it has been since soap has touched the body. No need to waste water.

Raising kids is tough work and takes skills beyond what any classes might teach you. It seems like almost every week I have some incompetence revealed. Some of the required skills for being a good parent continue to escape my grasp.

That being said, my love for my kids is tremendous. At the end of the day that is what matters most. By God's grace we don't have to be perfect parents. We don't have to have all the skills. 

It took some practice but I can now cut myself some slack for giving my daughters the ugliest ponytails known to man, And while I have made peace with having played a part in them finding humor in an untimely fart  my wife is still in process. 

Even in the bigger things in life I can also find grace and freedom. For me parenting has become more about spending time on my knees in prayer admitting I am outmatched than it is about figuring it all out.

Stuck in a Rut?

It can be easy to get stuck in the ruts as you go through life. You end up playing it safe and moving along in life simply following what is expected from someone of your age, education level, job, faith etc.

There is something comfortable and familiar with the ruts. You might not know where the ruts are leading or if you know you might not like where they lead. However, the effort needed to jump out seems too costly to try anything different. This is true in work, relationships, habits, and so many other things.

Our ruts can come from the mis-guidance of parents or teachers in childhood or from bosses and mentors on the job. Or our own baggage, fear, and love of comfort help us create our own ruts. The culture and history of our family, employer, or culture come pre-set with their own ruts.

Some of our ruts are bad habits. Some are relational dysfunction. Some are simply playing an expected role in a job and not speaking up or pushing for change or offering the risky idea. Other ruts are cultural where we feel boxed in and confined by expectation or comparison.

Lately, I have noticed some ruts in my life. Not big ones. Not bad ones. But ruts nonetheless. And I have felt a stirring to push out into fresh pasture, to try something new. Nothing crazy, just something different and daring.

The ideas that have rolled around my head for years need to see the light of day. The impulse to develop something new, to bring about change, to be a part of creating something different has grown. Long-deliberated plans need to start moving. Habits that once seemed innocuous have become ruts as life has changed. Things that have been ignored in relationships have done the same thing.

The problem is that pushing for change feels risky. Mustering the energy and effort to jump the ruts seems impossible. Having grown used to my "ruts" has left me with "initiative atrophy".

Trying to get out of my own ruts has left me looking for answers on "how-to". I want a map for what to do or where to go. The only thing is that there aren't usually maps for the places outside of the ruts. I, like so many others, could end up staying in the ruts simply because I can't find a good map.

And then this morning I read this from Seth Godin:

"Please stop waiting for a map. We reward those who draw maps, not those who follow them."

Perhaps waiting for a map isn't wise. Perhaps wise or prudent or safe or predictable isn't what is needed. Perhaps bold and adventurous and uncertain and a willingness to stand alone are what is needed. Be the one to discover and lead.

For me, as a husband, father, and leader it would be very costly to wait for a "map" while God is calling for something new. I want to take those first steps even if they are baby steps.

Take the first step. In humility and faith and with determination to stay out of the ruts.