Category: Christian Living

Fairy-tale life

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, a young mother, looking frazzled and exhausted from caring for her brood of small children walked into church carrying an infant and being trailed by two toddlers.  A wise, older woman smiled at her tenderly and said, “Treasure this time, dearie, the years will just fly by.”

The young mother, being polite, smiled and nodded, but on the inside she thought to herself, “The years may fly by, but these minutes are exhausting!”

Indeed they were exhausting, and lovely.  Many years have passed, and that infant in the mother’s arms is packed and loaded for college…five hundred miles away. The toddlers?  One is a soldier, seven hundred miles away, the other a college-grad, launching a life six hundred miles away. Their older brother?  A soon-to-be father, dedicated husband, and businessman two hundred and fifty miles away.  

And the mother is remembering that smiling older woman, thinking “she was so right.”  The years have flown by.  The babies are grown.  They are leaving the nest. 

And as I sit in this soon-to-be-empty nest, I am filled with thankfulness for these loud, crazy, brilliant, beautiful children that God has loaned to me for a while.  It hasn’t all been hearts and flowers, but it has been rich and life-changing.  And it’s just beginning!  

We are all starting our next chapter — college, career, service, parenthood, and whatever else the Lord has planned.  It is a very exciting time, filled with so much emotion.  We are excited, anxious, sad, happy, exhilarated….

Last night we had a rare moment where five of us were connected by Skype, laughing and smiling.  I drank it in.  I have been so blessed to have these amazing humans inhabit my nest.  I know they will periodically land here.  I look forward to it. 

Children are a heritage from the Lord. 

Psalm 127:3

Going with the flow

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

Imagine me lying on an inflatable raft and floating down a river on a beautiful Michigan day.  That is how life has been the last couple of days.  With this full house, I have refrained from creating my everyday to-do list. And I have been trying something different — going with the flow. 

Going with the flow has meant staying up until 1:00 am or later — two nights in a row.  It has meant that yesterday I woke up at 10:20 am!  I have written my blog in the middle of the night.  I have eaten a warm kale, cilantro, black bean salad created by one daughter and black bean (gluten-free) brownies created by the other daughter.  I have gone on a walk with Chester, started a Grisham book, and watched Sabrina. I took a walk on campus which equated to a walk down memory lane.  

Sounds pretty lovely, doesn’t it? So, I wonder if I will allow myself to go with the flow a little more often. 

This goes back to my doing v. being still theme.  I am trying to explore the fact that doing and being still do not have to be in opposition.  The two can co-exist.  In fact, in all my floating around yesterday, I did get my migraine-suffering daughter in to see an acupuncturist and also discovered that two miles from our new home is the leading migraine headache clinic in the nation.  Yes, while floating, we got her a comprehensive appointment for next week. 

But I didn’t really accomplish anything else.  This is new for me, the one who has measured my value by the number of things I get done and how well I do them.  It is new for me to see the overgrown flower bed and acknowledge that I want to do something to it without jumping right up and tearing out the weeds right away.  It is new for me to be comfortable co-existing with the unfinished, unsettled, unpolished.  

But floating is nice.  See how sparkly the water is?  Hear the wind blowing?  

Right now I am sitting in my adirondack chair on my porch, looking at the scene in the photo above.  Coffee was just delivered to me. Tomorrow we pack up our daughter to move to college, but today I am going to continue to float.  

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 

Matthew 11:28

 

 

 

Not quite full…

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

Even though my house is full, I am very aware of those who are missing…my sons.  Thankfully, we were able to see our oldest son and his wife over the weekend, but our younger son serves in the military and we haven’t seen or talked to him in a while.  He let us know on Sunday that he is fine and that we’ll hear more in a couple of days, but having seen the other 3/4 of our kids this week, I am feeling his absence.  

Each one of our children is unique, aren’t they?  Even if they are close in age, and raised under very similar circumstances, each one has his or her unique DNA, unique expression of that DNA, unique self.  And when all of that uniqueness combines, it is magical.  I often say that dinner with our whole family is not for the faint of heart.  It is a fast-paced, laughter-filled, exchange of information that few can track for any length of time.  You kind of have to grow into it.  

Spending time with any one of our children, or any particular combination of two or three or more is a blessing.  And each combination is different — the oldest alone, the older two together, the youngest alone, the younger two together, the middles together, the boys together, the girls together — and fabulous in its own way.  Each solo or combination is like a favorite song — I love to hear it and want to play it over and over. 

But of all my favorite songs, my favorite-favorite is the song of all of my kids together under one roof, making all their particular sounds together.  

I imagine that is what heaven will be like for God.  He will have us all together — all ages, genders, races, ethnicities, socio-economic statuses — and he will rejoice to hear us all together.  

And just like I am thinking about the one I am missing, even while the others are with me, God pursues those who are missing, and desires them to come home and be under His roof, joining in his favorite-favorite song.  

For this reasons, He is likely to ‘leave the ninety-nine, and go in search of the one.’ He loves each one.  I am one.  You are one.  

Fullness

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

This momma is pretty content this morning.  After a weekend of travel, we returned to a full nest.  Two daughters and an extra friend are joining us this week. It took some maneuvering to find spots for everyone and all of their things in this smaller place, but they are in, and I am happy.  

Last night there were voices and laughter.  Sweet Chester cuddled everyone and soaked in the love.  I am soaking it in, too.  These days are precious. 

I spend a lot of verbal energy spouting about being an ’empty nester’ and how I am looking forward to this ‘season of rest’.  But, truth be told, I love my kids, and all their friends.  I am never more content than when the house is crammed, there is food to be eaten, and laughter fills the house.  

So, I am soaking in the fullness.  

Tonight we are taking this show on the road to see two sets of grandparents and a few aunts and uncles.  Multiplying fullness.  

I think the only way I could be happier is if all my children were here together.  There is nothing like that. When they are all together there is so much talking and laughing and eating.  And I am filled with joy and contentment. 

It baffles me to think that this is how God chooses to describe us — as his children.  We bring Him pleasure. Really?  I bring God pleasure?  He is filled with joy in my presence?  Come on, that can’t be.  But it must be true, because when humanity tried to pull away from him, He sent His only Son.  For us.  So that we could all be together one day — talking, and laughing, and eating. 

See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God.  And that is what we are!  

1 John 3:1

 

“Oops!… I Did It Again”*

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

Part of the work of the next few months is a re-setting of my mind because of the re-setting that has happened in my body.  For most of my adult life I have gone until I can’t go ‘no more’.  Then I collapse, and get up the next day and start over.  That isn’t going to work any more.

My experience with my new body (I will refrain from speaking for all people with autoimmune disease) is that I have to be preventative.  I eat certain foods so that I won’t have a flare.  I take certain vitamins and supplements so that my body will respond better to stress.  I do Pilates to help my body maintain flexibility.  I rest midday so that I can go out for dinner later.  I have to anticipate the effects of my actions on my body.

But I get amnesia.

I had a pretty lousy flare in April/May.  This isn’t too surprising since I was preparing for a move, finishing a school year, anticipating one daughter’s high school graduation and the other daughter’s college graduation, saying goodbye to many friends, etc.  Stressors incite flares.  Life, even ordinary life, is stressful.  April and May were a bit over the top.

June and July were lovely.  I was at home, on my own pace, packing a box or two a day, resting at various times throughout the day, eating well, exercising well, reading, doing puzzles, and seeing friends.

So I forgot what happens when I do too much.

I think I wanted to believe that it wouldn’t happen again.  I mean, we were in the physical process of moving for about ten days and I felt fine.  When I got tired, I took a little break.  On the actual move day, I had to take a few more breaks than usual, but still, no flare.

Ten days in Ann Arbor, unpacking, socializing, running errands, taking breaks, exercising, and I was feeling just fine.  In fact, so fine, that I felt like the old me!

So, on Wednesday, when I went out for my walk with Chester, I actually ran a bit.   I haven’t run in quite a while.  And it felt great.  I was cautious.  But, I ran.  

Then on Thursday, I woke up, wrote my blog, drank my tea, and then pretended I was the old me for about two hours — cleaned and vacuumed out the car, washed three windows inside and out, vacuumed our little house front to back, and Swiffered the kitchen and dining room.

And then it happened.

It wasn’t like my batteries wore down or something.  It was like someone unplugged me.  I hit the bed and knew I had gone too far.  It wasn’t even noon.

We had a guest arriving at 1.  My husband wanted me to meet some staff members at 4:30.  And a new friend was coming in the evening to learn the ropes of Chester-sitting so that we can go on a trip this weekend.

Yes, you read that right.  We are going on a trip this weekend.  Our oldest is getting his MBA tomorrow in Cincinnati and we are moving our daughter from Chicago to Ann Arbor on Sunday.

And I’m unplugged.

When I woke this morning, I discovered that my reserve battery had charged a little in my sleep, so I tidied the guest room for the overnight guest who is coming on Sunday. (Are you hearing all this?) And re-made the bed for our friend who is staying with Chester.

I’m not getting it, am I?

Do I really need another smack-down in order to learn how to pace myself and take breaks?  Why is it that doing is so satisfying to me?  Why am I not content with being? 

I believe I have received grace this morning, because I don’t feel as poorly as I did last evening.  So, I am going to slow down, acknowledge that God is God and I am not.  Do a little Pilates.  Breathe.  Put my feet up.  Read.  Drink my kale-berry-banana-flax smoothie.  And try, really try, to be still. 

Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth. Psalm 46:10.

 

 

 

 

*Spears, Brittney.  “Oops!… I Did It Again.” Oops!…I Did It Again. Jive, 2000.

(This citation is for my former students who know that you have to give credit where credit is due.)

 

 

 

 

 

Judge not, lest…

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

Let me just get it right out there and say that I have been a judgmental know-it-all most of my life.  I think I am always right. Always have.  And my face, if not my mouth, lets everyone around me know exactly what I am thinking.

Yes, yes, I have read the Bible, including, Proverbs 16:18, “Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall.” I have even quoted it to other people who I know are being prideful.  You know, know-it-alls.

It is difficult when I realize that this verse applies to me.

Oh, yeah, the fall is ugly.  I have learned many hard lessons over the years.  I’ve already established that I am about as stubborn as they come.   So, sometimes I need an object lesson, and sometimes it has to involve me directly.

For instance, I used to think I knew everything about parenting and that all children could be controlled with the right kind of discipline and structure.  Enter my three genetic progeny, who have wiring similar to mine, and cue the smack-down.  Yeah, that re-teaching was pretty painful.

I used to think people with ‘fibromyalgia’, ‘RA’, and all those other ‘invisible diseases’ were just lazy people looking for excuses to stay home and get disability and sympathy.  (I told you I was a judgmental know-it-all.)  Watching a good friend get RA almost cured me of my judgmental attitude, but living with PsA myself?  Yeah, I’m over judging others’ experience of health and/or pain.

I used to think college was the only path for everyone.  Well, hundreds of students, family members, and my own children have shown me that God uses multiple paths to get people where he wants them, and that I should just get my lofty degree-carrying nose out of the clouds.

I used to see things as black or white.  Right or wrong. Godly or ungodly.  I have realized that God is way more complex than that.  Of course there are absolutes, like God is God, and I am not.  I think I will stick with that one.  He knows it all.  I only know what he allows me to know.

He teaches me stuff through difficult life lessons, but sometimes, when I am not being such a know-it-all, I actually read His Word and find little gems like this from Proverbs 11:2, “When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom.”

Ah yes, grasshopper, wisdom.

So, I have been learning, and I am sure I will continue to learn, to be humble.  I have said to myself, and to others, when I feel like judging someone, “I have no idea what their experience is.”  I don’t know what put a homeless man on the street or what causes him to beg for money.  I don’t know why that girl has seventeen piercings and is covered in tattoos; I don’t know her experience.  I don’t know why that man wore bike shorts to church (it’s true, he did, and he went to communion, too), but I am going to choose to not judge him, although I think I kind of just did, didn’t I?

I am a work in progress.  I am still learning not to judge.  Judging doesn’t bring us closer to people.  It separates us.  Love draws us closer.  Listening draws us closer.  Learning draws us closer.  Closer is nice.

Expect the Unexpected, chapter 2

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

It’s funny, isn’t it?  The way that our expectations of how something will be shape our attitude in the now.  Yesterday morning I was in a funk because of what I thought the day would be, but it turned out nothing at all how I thought it would.  

The phone call about college finances was uneventful, and actually, by day’s end, we discovered that the situation, which was very manageable to begin with, was actually even better than we thought. Why I ever worry about money after all the ways we have been provided for over the years, I will never know. 

The shopping that I thought was going to consume my day turned into a thirteen dollar purchase at a local grocery store, an online backpack purchase, and two Starbucks drinks. 

The doctor’s appointment was potentially stressful, since my Google calendar converted the 1:00pm appointment time to 2:00pm when I moved to the Eastern time zone.  But, even though I arrived at 1:40, they checked me in and I was seen by a corneal specialist who, two and a half hours later, determined that my eyes look great. 

I got to leisurely cook a fabulous chicken curry dinner and enjoy it in the dining room with my husband and my daughter.  I finished my day reading fiction, that I chose, and that I can finish or not, whatever I decide. 

Yesterday was, by all counts, a pretty great day, in spite of my grumbling. 

So, ok, ok.  I am trying to learn this lesson.  “Be Still, little girl, uncross your arms and unwrinkle your brow.  I have got this.  I am God.  I have never left you or forsaken you.  I’ve actually carried you in the palm of my hand for 48 years. So, sit back, calm down, trust me.  I have got you.” ( Bible, Rathje Revised Version.)

So today’s plan is to just sit in His hand, internally being still, while I watch and see what He does.  You in? 

 

 

No words.

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

Seriously.  I don’t have any words.  I have been sitting here staring at a blank page for a while now and I find I don’t  really have anything to say.

Yet I feel obligated to my commitment…to put into words every day what is happening in this, my experience.  My next chapter.  But I feel kind of grumbly this morning.  I don’t feel like connecting my life to God’s word and being encouraged. I just feel like sitting in the grumble.

That made me laugh a little.  I pictured four- or five-year-old me, arms crossed, brow furrowed, bottom lip protruding.  I am mad.  And I want you to know it.  Kind of endearing on a five-year-old.  Not so cute on a 48-year-old.

And why am I grumbly?  I really have no excuse.

Except that today is going to be full of details and doing and it’s not really in my control or on my time frame.  I am going to have to be flexible.   We’ve got a college finances question to work out, but the office doesn’t open until 9.  We have items to purchase.  I have a doctor’s appointment. None of it is really huge, or life-altering.  It’s just the stuff of life.

Wait. I could be onto something.  I will be doing today.  I will actually be doing quite a bit of doing.  And, darn it, I’m getting used to being.  

Wait. The thought just occurred to me that I have always kept doing and being separate from one another.  What if I could introduce them to one another?  What if I could internally be still while externally doing? What if in the midst of this hectic day I could have an inner calm that governed all my actions and interactions.  Wouldn’t that change my experience?  Wouldn’t that even re-frame my doing?

This, my friends, is what we in the field of education call a ‘teachable moment’.  I think I am about to get schooled.

Isaiah 26:12 Lord, you establish peace for us; all that we have accomplished you have done for us.

So, the Lord accomplishes everything for me.  It is not me doing, controlling, earning my value. It is Him accomplishing, providing, redeeming, protecting.

I just get to “stand firm and see the deliverance the Lord will give [me]… [I won’t] be afraid; [or] be discouraged …the Lord will be with [me]” 2 Chronicles 20:17. 

So, I don’t have to be grumbly.  I can be at peace, the peace that God established inside of me.  I can still do, but in a way that is more like watching God provide the answers.  I will be still today in the doing.  At least I will try.

 

I come for healing, Re-visit

~ Kristin ~ 6 Comments

Today is Move-in Day at this place we call home. Thirty-four years ago, I was moving in as a student; just over five years ago, I moved in as the wife of the Dean of Students. Both times I’m shown up on this campus, I’ve been just a bit broken, and both times this space has provided the time, the resources, and the community in which I find healing. I wrote this post in on August 3, 2014, when I thought my biggest problem was my health. As I revisit it today, I wonder at God’s ability to see the bigger issues and provide a space for me to be held through difficulties yet unknown to me.

Nestled beside the Huron River is a small school — Concordia University. (You can see the chapel amid the trees in the photo.) The school was started in the 1960s by the Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod, mainly to prepare young people for service in the church. The chapel sits in the heart of its campus. Christ is at the heart of its mission.  

And we get to be here! My husband is the Dean of Students, so we live right on campus as part of the community. This beautiful scene is in my backyard!

I have lived here before, as a student, back in the ’80s. The place is familiar, to be sure, but the experience is brand new. I came as a teenager before. Now, I come as an empty-nester. Big difference.  

One thing is the same, though. I am here to heal.  

This time I am coming to heal from several hectic years topped off with a diagnosis of autoimmune disease. Last time I came after an overwhelming freshman year of college topped off with an eating disorder. Both times, God intervened and brought me to this place to heal.

I still can’t explain what happened in 1985 — how I left a Big Ten university in the middle of Michigan to pay more at a small private college in Ann Arbor, but I know it saved my life — my physical and my spiritual life. It put me on a path to wellness. 

The other day, when I was walking along the Huron and glanced across to see the chapel, something clicked in my mind. Last year, we were not looking to move back to Michigan. My husband was not looking for a higher ed position. But God used his people to step into our situation and bring us here to Concordia. And, again, I am on a path to wellness.  

For over three years in the 1980s I felt held at Concordia while I sorted out the issues of my eating disorder. It was an emotionally chaotic time, to be sure, but I felt held — held by Christian friends who saw me, held by faculty who noticed and cared for me, held by the school nurse who pointed me toward help, and held, ultimately, by God.  

So, coming back to Concordia feels secure, safe, comforting. Again, I feel held.  I’ve only been here a week, but I feel at peace. Knowing the healing I experienced here in the ’80s gives me great hope. I am looking forward to healing again. I am believing God’s words through Jeremiah that “[God] will heal [me] and will let [me] enjoy abundant peace and security” Jeremiah 33:6.  

Certainly I don’t think this healing can only happen at Concordia. Or next to the Huron River. But I do believe that healing comes only through God. And that, for me, He has done that here at Concordia.  

I am here for healing. 

The River

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

Do you see that view?  I can see that every day on my walk with Chester.  It is just down the street at Gallup Park.  Although I am in a city, I can take a short walk and totally escape from people, pressures, reality.  This is where I get to live.

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I miss St. Louis — my friends, my house, the smell of the brewery, Forest Park, LaFayette Square.  It will always be very dear to me.

But, you know, I think I am going to like Ann Arbor.  In the past week, as we have settled, I have begun to develop some routines — Pilates, morning tea, blogging, five minutes of stillness, and a daily walk by the Huron River.  This walk is a pause from reality.  Inside Gallup Park, I don’t notice the sounds of the city.  I am engulfed in the smell of water, flowers, freshness — pure Michigan.  I see ducks, geese, and such a wide variety of people doing exactly what I am doing — breathing.

I lose track of time.  I forget agendas.  I relax.  Guys, it’s like being still!

I can hear some grumblers saying, “I bet you won’t be walking there in January!”  Good point. I haven’t quite forgotten what Michigan winters are like.  They are cold, to be sure.  But I also remember that they are stunningly beautiful.  So, I wonder if I will still venture out, like a real Michigander —  clad in boots, parka, hat, and gloves — to see what this view looks like fifty degrees cooler.  I hope so!

In the mean time, I am going to continue my routine — Pilates, tea, blogging, five minutes of stillness, and my daily walk by the river.  Because I have noticed that there, He “extends peace to [me] like a river” Isaiah 66:12.