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He knew.

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

I was just sitting here thinking how amazing God is. If I didn’t believe He was active in my life before, He is making it impossible for me to doubt it now.

You want evidence? Ok.  Here is today’s evidence.  About a month ago a Saudi Arabian student contacted me through my Wyzant profile.  Would I please help her with her graduate work in English literature; she needed help with three classes.  She didn’t tell me what the classes were, but I said, sure, I would meet with her and see if I could help.

All she knew from my profile is that I have an MA in English, that I have taught high school and community college English, and that my specialty is composition.  She didn’t know that for all the years that I was teaching in St. Louis I was immersed in African American culture or that much of my graduate work focused on African American literature and literacy practices. She couldn’t have known of our links to the Jewish community through Cultural Leadership or of the fact that I had taught Holocaust literature as part of my senior seminar class. She had no way of knowing that one of the college-level classes I have taught for years is poetry. She couldn’t have known these things.

But God did.

He knew before she sent me that first message that I would be fascinated by the three syllabi she would hand me: Literature of the Romantic Era, Literature of the Holocaust, and Twenty-First Century African American Literature.  He knew I had background knowledge and a love for these subjects that would allow me to do more than merely proofread her essays.  He knew that I would be energized by entering into a conversation on Wordsworth’s use of blank verse.  He knew that I would be so interested in the portrayal of hegemony in Ishmael Reed’s Flight to Canada that I would likely purchase the book after reading about it in my student’s writing.  He knew that when she asked me if I could help her narrow down her research topic for her Master’s thesis my pulse would accelerate out of joy!

He knew.

And he connected us.  That is the only explanation for a young woman living worlds away from her home studying in a language not her own to be working side by side with a middle aged midwesterner in a small apartment in Ypsilanti.

The only reason.

Only God sees into her life and sees into my life and knows that we would make a great team.  Only God draws together two so seemingly different people for a common purpose.  Only God knows that I will likely benefit more from this relationship than she will.

Only God.

Ephesians 3:20-21

 Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

Students of the Week

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

Eleven days since my last post?  How can that be?  What did I do with eleven days?

Well, a quick glance at the calendar tells me I’ve done a lot with eleven days.  We spent three of those days traveling to see a grand baby.  Two days were spent hosting our daughter and her boyfriend for a quick visit.  And the rest of the days?  Well, friends, I’ve seen a lot of students.  Wanna meet some of them?

Let’s see, maybe we’ll start with the youngest.  About six weeks ago, a mother contacted me and asked if I would work with her two daughters on writing; they are in the the third and fifth grades.  I told the mother that I typically only work with older students — as in high school and college — but she persisted.  So, I met these two little Chinese girls who I could easily carry around in my pockets with me, and I fell in love.  They are precocious — the fifth grader’s writing is laced with sarcasm and hyperbole; the third grader is wise and obedient, wishing that all of her classmates would see the error of their ways and comply with her teacher’s wishes as she does.  We work on writing and grammar and I try to absorb some of the academic pressure that their hardworking parents are piling on top of them.

Next in terms of age is a student that I have had almost from the beginning.  She is a a seventh grader who works closer to eleventh grade level.  The pressure from her Indian immigrant parents to do better/work harder is palpable, but she is able to resiliently shrug off what she can’t carry.  She steps to her own beat.  She wants to please her parents, of course, but she also knows what she does and doesn’t like.  Our challenge this past week was ignoring her deep ‘need’ to change the wallpaper on her laptop so that we could work on test prep exercises.  Yes, the seventh grader in her shines through.

I have another sister pair.  They are the fifth grade and eighth grade daughters of  a Taiwanese mother and an American father.  They have lived in China, Chicago, and little old Northville, Michigan.  They are bilingual, as are many of my students.  They are also quite bright.  Their parents, like so many others I have met this year, want their children to succeed academically, which means they will need supplemental instruction in Standard English, not because they don’t speak it very clearly, but because their parents don’t consistently model Standard English structures.  This seemingly small factor, can impact standardized test scores and hinder clear written communication.

I know; I started by saying I don’t typically work with younger students, then I introduced you to five.

I’ve got a couple of high school boys that I see weekly — same scenario as above — bright guys with international parents who need additional work in English.  These boys are taking honors classes, playing sports, and participating in myriad other pursuits, then sitting with me for an hour doing test prep, writing essays, and talking about sentence construction.  I don’t think I had this kind of work ethic in high school!

I also have adults.  I must say I love my adults.

The first is a twenty-year old whose first language is Farsi and second language is English.  He has struggled his whole life with reading and comprehension, so we are meeting twice a week to work on these skills.  He hopes to be one day be successful in college.

Then there is the thirty year old Brazilian woman living in California.  She and I meet online once a week to improve her writing.  She already has an American MBA, but she wants to become a blogger to promote her startup and to discuss issues of marketing.  Yes, as you can see, all of my students are slackers.

My other thirty year old is from Romania.  After twelve years in the country, she decided to become a nurse.  We spent four months preparing her for the pre-nursing exam. She passed the test and was accepted into a program. She’ll start in January, so we are meeting weekly to continue to improve her English skills.

My personal favorite at the moment is a young woman from Saudi Arabia.  She is here on the government’s dime to get a degree in English literature so that she can return to her country and teach in a university.  She’s taking three graduate level classes — Romanticism, Literature of the Holocaust, and 21st Century African American literature.  She reads, thinks, and writes about these very different topics.  I get to talk her through some of her ideas and make sure that her writing reflects what she is thinking.

This week I will meet a Hispanic man who is about to graduate from the University of Michigan.  He needs some support preparing for the Michigan teacher certification test, you know, since English is his second language.

Guys, I get to do this.  Each week I get to sit across the table from (or in front of the screen with) a person who I never would have come into contact with if I didn’t have a degree in English, years of teaching experience, and an online profile.

I am learning from each of them, perhaps more than they are learning from me.

Just a part of my life in this next chapter — way more than I could have ever hoped for.

Ephesians 3:20-21

20 Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

Juxtaposition, re-visit

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

This post, written in October 2015, gets dusted off in October 2019 — I needed a reminder of my role.

The other day I was trying to explain the term ‘juxtaposition’ to a student. I think I said something like, “when we juxtapose two items, we set them side by side in an attempt to highlight their differences.”

I’m sitting here examining the glaring differences when I juxtapose my life with the life of Christ. It’s embarrassing, really. Especially when I consider myself to be not only a Christian, but a leader in the church. It’s humbling, and sobering, to think that others look to my husband and I as examples of what Christians should be.  In a perfect world, we would be mirrors that merely reflect the love and grace of God to all those around us. In reality, this mirror is warped, cracked, and positioned in such a way that the reflection is sometimes unrecognizable.

For example, yesterday, I pridefully posted on Facebook that I had used inappropriate language to deal with a medical insurance agent regarding some services for one of our children. “I showed her who was boss, yes I did.” As people liked that post throughout the day, I had a mixture of feelings — the satisfaction that others had experienced the same emotions that I had in similar experiences, the pride that I had written a post that others ‘liked’ (yes, I am that shallow), and, a hint of shame. “Really, Kristin, you are celebrating the fact that you resorted to low means to achieve your goal? Would you have had the same outcome if you had remained calm and gracious? Was it really necessary to get so charged up?”

Now, to be fair, the situation I was confronted with was a bit ridiculous.  A change in policy was, in my opinion, unjustified, irresponsible, and unnecessary.  However, did my response also need to be ridiculous?  And, after I had apologized to the innocent agent I was dealing with, did I really have to haughtily post my poor reflection of Christ for all the world to see?

Yeah, I’m often a poor reflection. Let’s juxtapose my behavior with an imagination of Christ’s reaction in a similar situation. He would be sitting in his office on the phone, calmly listening to the agent, asking questions, probably speaking directly into her life, picking up on nuances of her tone and reaching out to her need. He might ask who He could talk to about this recent policy change, but would He raise his voice? utter a vulgarity? or celebrate His breech of character on social media?

I doubt it.

When we juxtapose ourselves with perfection we find ourselves looking like a hot mess, because indeed we are hot messes. And that is why, my friends, God is the covenant keeper. (See my recent post “Didn’t He do it?”) We can’t keep the covenant. We can’t keep our commitment to be image bearers for Christ because we are a bunch of warped, cracked, misshapen mirrors. We reflect His image poorly. All the time. Even when we think we are getting it right.

And yet, every once in a while, He uses these imperfect mirrors, tips them at just such an angle so that others get a glimpse of His fabulousness.  And in those moments, we don’t haughtily post on Facebook, but we drop to our knees in humble gratitude for having a front row seat.  Because when we juxtapose ourselves with Christ, and take our eyes off of our own imperfection, we see what true perfection looks like. And we are amazed.

For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.”

I Corinthians 13:12

This is Now

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

I wonder how many times I am going to write the same content in this blog before I finally get it.

I’m knocked down again, because I was probably trying to do too much.

We had dinner with friends last week.  The couple asked me, “So how are you feeling?” I answered, “Well, I was doing great until I sat on the bleachers in the cold at the football game for three hours.” That was nine days ago.  Yes, it can be something that little.

I went on to explain the frustration I have with this because I used to be able to do so much.  So much.  But, as I’ve written so many times in this blog — that was then, this is now.

I knew I was in trouble last weekend when I had difficulty moving around the day after the football game.  We went to church then came home and rested.  I fussed and whined for a bit, then my husband suggested we go for a walk.  Movement always helps.  After we walked, we came home to make it an early night.

I didn’t adjust my schedule last week to allow myself time to recover, after all, I teach two hours three days a week and see a few students outside of that.  What would I need to pare down? I am already pared way down.   So, I was moving a little slowly, big deal.  Surely I could still teach and see a few students.

Well, a few students turned into ten hours of tutoring.  Add that to six hours in the classroom and five to six hours of prep and I still had a work week that was fewer than twenty-five hours.  However, we also went to dinner and a play on Thursday night. Then, we drove to a neighboring town on Saturday for a wedding.  Yesterday we spent the morning at church.  Finally, I uncharacteristically agreed to meet two students on Sunday evening.

And this morning? Well, I pried myself out of bed at 8:00am to take my meds and send messages to my doctors to see what I can do about the fact that I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.  My body aches– neck, hips, knees, back. My eyes are the worst — aching, irritated, sensitive to light. And fatigue?  Yeah.  I’ve made a promise to myself that I will shower at 11 this morning so that I am on time for my noon class. I will probably force myself to stay dressed long enough to drive out and refill my medication at the pharmacy, otherwise I won’t have pain meds tomorrow morning.  And, I will likely make an agreement with myself that I am only allowed to watch television and crochet if I do twenty minutes of Pilates first.

And, I know I’ve got to do some preparing because I have four students tomorrow — one who is new.  Wednesday I teach and then I will see four more students. And even that, folks, is sounding like a lot right now.

It sounds like a lot to a girl who used to arrive at school before 7am, prepare for students or attend meetings until 8, teach, observe other teachers, mentor students, run with the cross country team, and still go home to make dinner, do laundry, and attend events with the family.

That was then, this is now.

I have to remind myself of what I wrote just a few days ago.  This opportunity to slow down has afforded me the time to reflect and find meaning in the ways that I have lived my life for the past forty-nine years. This new pace, this pace of now, is a blessing and an opportunity.

But today I don’t like it. At all.

Psalm 55:17

Evening, morning and noon I cry out in distress, and he hears my voice.

Didn’t He Do It?

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

It dawned on me yesterday that I’ve been a little hard on myself in this blog lately.  Not unjustifiably so, but still…

Sometimes people comment that they find my willingness to ‘bare it all’ refreshing.  I guess we should thank my stepmother.  (Are you reading this, dear?)  Years ago I used to write a Christmas letter proclaiming all the wonderful things that had happened to our family throughout the year. You know the kind: My husband’s job was going great.  My life was picture perfect.  Our children were gifted and talented (really, they were!), and nothing could have gone better!  Really!

After having sent one such letter, we were visiting my father and my stepmother. In my memory, my stepmother was standing next to a pile of Christmas letters when she said something like, “I can’t hardly bare to read one more letter about how perfect someone’s life was this year!”  I have no memory of the rest of that visit.  That’s it.

I never wrote a letter the same way again.  In fact, for the past several years, I haven’t even penned one.  I can’t bring myself to do it!  Of course I want to gush about all the good stuff from the year, but it doesn’t hardly feel honest if I don’t also include the struggles!  And, as you know, our struggles are many!

I really didn’t set out to write a blog that was a baring of my soul.  In fact, if you go back to day one, I believe I was just mystified, and a little scared, about the major change I was going through — leaving a career to move to a place of stillness — and I needed an avenue to process it.  Little did I know that this season of rest would afford me some soul-searching time to process not only this change, but perhaps the last forty-nine years of my life!!

Although all this processing has been, at times, difficult, it is one of the most precious opportunities I have been afforded in my life.  After all that trudging and surviving, I now have a chance to look back and find meaning in all of it.  Really, all of it. Now, as you know if you read my blog regularly, all of the meaning ain’t what they call ‘cute’.  Some of the stuff I have done and lived through is down right ugly, mostly due to my own choosing.   And that’s where yesterday’s Bible study comes in.

The battalion and I are reading Malachi, but we took a brief field trip to Genesis yesterday to ‘watch’ the covenant between God and Abram (Genesis 15).  As was the way of covenants, God directed Abram to cut a number of animals in half and spread them on the ground.  Our Bible teacher, Lisa Harper, told us that way back in the day, the covenant makers would both walk through this bloody mess in their bare feet as a way of signifying their agreement to keep whatever promise they were making.  The blood on their feet was to show that if they didn’t keep their end of the agreement, then they would expect to be cut in half just like these animals — killed as their payment for failure to keep the promise.  Harper went further to say that in those days, if a poor man was making a covenant with a wealthy man, the wealthy one was not required to walk through the bloody mess.  After all, he had all ability to ‘pay back’ any debt or make up any loss that might be incurred if he didn’t follow through with the agreement.  The poor man, however, had nothing but his life as collateral.  He had to put his life on the line.  Now, when God directed Abram to arrange the bloodied animals on the ground, He did not also require Abram, the poor man, to walk through.  No, He told Abram to go to sleep.  And, while he was sleeping, while he was helpless, God Himself walked through the bloody mess, promising to pay with His own life if either participant in the covenant couldn’t follow through on the agreement. And, as my friends in St. Louis like to say, ‘didn’t He do it?’

God knew that Abram (and I) was poor and weak.  He knew that Abram (nor I) could hope to keep any kind of covenant.  He knew that Abram (and I) would make his own arrangements to create a legacy, to work out the details, to figure it out by himself when it seemed that God was not acting.  And still, still, He walked through that bloody mess knowing that He would keep the covenant — both sides of the covenant — for Abram (and for me).

And didn’t He do it?

When I have been unfaithful, hasn’t He been faithful?  When I have gone my own way, hasn’t He pursued me?  When I have soldiered on, hasn’t He protected me from myself.  When I have demanded my own way, hasn’t He watched and waited with open arms. When I have refused to call on Him, didn’t He send messenger after messenger into my path.  When I continued, didn’t He gather me up and carry me to a place of rest so that I could take a long look at how He has kept His covenant relationship with me?

Indeed He has, He did, He will.

Psalm 51:12

Restore to me the joy of your salvation

and uphold me with a willing spirit.

I’ve been wrong, re-visit

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

This post, first written in October 2015, is an early layer in a lesson I’ve been working on. It’s worth re-visiting in April 2019.

Early in our marriage, my husband and I attended a workshop on personality types. Everyone in the room was broken into four groups based on responses to a questionnaire. The groups were illustrated on a four-quadrant chart, each quadrant labelled with a catch phrase. My responses landed me in the quadrant labelled with the catch phrase, “I’m right.”  My husband landed in the quadrant labelled “I know.” I reflexively looked over at him and said, “As long as you know that I’m right, this marriage should work out beautifully.”

Yeah, it has been a long painful fall from that kind of pride.

During my first year of teaching, the seasoned teachers on my hallway were keeping their distance from me. One morning, after a huge mistake resulted in catastrophe, I indignantly marched down to the other teachers and said, “Why didn’t you say something? How could you let me do this?” They quietly replied, “Well, you seemed to have everything figured out for yourself.”

Ouch.

In the early years of parenting, I was intentionally ‘getting everything right’. This belief was evidenced by my judgmental glances toward others who ‘didn’t have it all together’. I harshly judged another mother whose son punched my daughter, but winced weeks later when my daughter bit another child in the church nursery.

Yup, it happened.

I would like to say that it stopped there, but it’s hard to quit “being right”. Often in my classroom I have joked, “I could be wrong; it happened once in 1973, so I imagine it could happen again.” Of course my students roll their eyes. In fact, I have had students who document in their notes every time I make a mistake specifically for the purpose of reminding me whenever I tell that joke.

I’ve gotta laugh at myself. I mean, really, it’s ridiculous to think that I would be right all the time. Yet, I’m always shocked when my humanity shows through.

The most painful falls have come through parenting, of course. I guess, as a mother, much of my identity comes through my children. It shouldn’t, but it does. I pride myself on their accomplishments — their success in school, sports, the arts, and their careers. I sternly corrected their failures when they were young — failing to turn in assignments, treating friends poorly, or –gasp– sassing their parents. They are, in my mind, a reflection of me.  So, it becomes very painful when I see them struggling because of something that I have directly, or more often indirectly, taught them. When they adopt the patterns that I have modeled for them, the very ones that have caused me so much pain, I ache. I tend to see these times not as their failures, but as mine. If only I would have taught them that it is ok to fail, that it is healthy to admit our mistakes, that it is freeing to apologize, that it is not helpful to rationalize your sins. If I had done that, then they would have learned to apologize quickly and forgive quickly.

When they were toddlers and misbehaved toward one another, I taught them to say, “I’m sorry,” and “I forgive you.”  I prided myself in that. My kids were going to learn how to forgive quickly, darn it. But here’s the thing — kids don’t learn what you say, they learn what you do. So, when they misbehaved and I stomped through the house slamming doors and muttering under my breath, they were not learning that I would readily forgive them. When I explained away my misguided parenting decisions instead of admitting my error, they learned how to explain away their decisions — to rationalize them, to somehow make them seem ok.

Along the way, instead of me teaching them, they have taught me about apology and forgiveness. Kids do that. They teach us the lessons that we most need to learn. They are worlds ahead of me in this process. However, from time to time I see my stubbornness in them — the stubbornness I taught them. That breaks my heart.

So, let me go on record and say, I’ve had it wrong, guys. I haven’t always admitted that I have made a mistake. But here let me say that each of my days are full of mistakes. I am hobbling along in life, sometimes trying my best, sometimes doing my worst.  And, I’m sorry.

For you, O Lord, are good and forgiving,
    abounding in steadfast love to all who call upon you.
6 Give ear, O Lord, to my prayer;
    listen to my plea for grace.

Psalm 86

Rejoice in my suffering, re-visit

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

This post, originally written in 2015, didn’t see 2018 coming, or did it? On Mondays, I post new material; on Thursdays, I’ve been looking back at prior posts. This one explains the process that resulted in this past Monday’s thankfulness.

…we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the holy spirit who has been given to us.

Romans 5:2-5

Rejoice in my suffering? That does not make sense, does it? Why would I celebrate financial struggle? Why would I be glad for physical pain? Why would I be happy about interpersonal conflict?

I was texting with a friend this morning who was crying out in the struggle. This is hard. I don’t think I can stand it. When will it end? 

And since I’m such a compassionate person I said something like, “God is using all these tough things to condition you for what’s up the road.”

My friend said, “That’s not super comforting.”

Ok, so maybe it wasn’t my most tender moment. But, haven’t we all lived it? Maybe since I’m drawing close to fifty, I am beginning to be a little reflective. If my parents had not divorced, I wouldn’t have understood how much my step-son, when he was little, missed his mommy. If I had never had an argument with my husband, or a time when I wondered why I married him in the first place, I wouldn’t be able to understand a friend when she says she just doesn’t know if their marriage is going to make it. If our children had never pushed back, or made horrible decisions, or been hurting inconsolably, I wouldn’t be able to offer a shoulder to cry on to another hurting mom. If I hadn’t spent so many years soldiering on, refusing to accept God’s grace and provision, I wouldn’t understand the loneliness and heartache that that can cause.

But, guys, I have.

I have endured suffering of many kinds. So have you. And we are still standing. We have endured heartache, pain, death, abandonment, betrayal, loneliness, addiction, selfishness, illness, and every other kind of struggle. And we are not finished.

The crap is going to keep flying in our direction. But the more crap we have withstood, the more easily we are able to wipe it off and keep stepping. That’s endurance.

The more we endure, the more we realize that we have survived before and we will survive again. More importantly, we realize why we have survived — that we have been supported, provided for, and carried. That realization? That’s character.

That character, that acknowledgement of our weakness in the face of struggle and our need for a Savior to support, provide for, and carry us, gives us hope. We have hope because we know we are not alone. We know that the One who has allowed us to survive all the of crap-flinging assaults that are common to life will continue to provide a way for us to get through the next round. That is His character.

And that hope, that hope in the One who consistently shows up in the midst of our struggle, whether we acknowledge his presence or not, that hope does not disappoint.

For that reason, I will rejoice in my suffering. Period.

Repent. Rest. Re-set. Repeat.

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

I just opened my Bible study.  I was hoping to spend about thirty to forty-five minutes preparing for my Wednesday meeting with the battalion, but I only got to the end of the first page when I read these questions:

What is the biggest transition you’re going through right now?

Does it feel like you’re moving from captivity to freedom,

or does your transition seem to be leading you to a more confining place?

Now would you look at that?  Seems like a pretty benign question, doesn’t it?  But you know, it cut right through some baggage I’ve been carrying around and provided a moment of clarity. And I haven’t event opened my Bible yet!

The battalion and I met for the first time after our summer break about ten days ago to start our journey through Lisa Harper’s study called Malachi: a love that never lets go. Harper paints a picture of the Israelites at the time that Malachi wrote as similar to Scarlett O’Hara in Gone With the Wind — not ball-ready Scarlett, but Scarlett returning from Atlanta to find Tara a hot mess in the wake of the Civil War.  Harper says that, like Scarlett, the Israelites are raising their fists to God in anger and indignation, “How could you let this happen?”

Well, I am certainly not there.  Oh, I have been.  Trust me.  If this is not your first time reading this blog, you know my history of raising my fist to God and even turning my back on Him.  But, folks, I am — thankfully — not in that place at the moment.

In fact, this whole blog has been about my journey past that time of soldiering self-righteousness into a season of resting in His provision, His goodness, His faithfulness.  I’ve gone on  and on about our little house by the river, sitting on the couch, working fewer hours, spending time with my husband, going to the gym, swimming in the warm salt water pool.  You have to be getting sick of hearing about this time of refreshing!

Well, I’ve got a confession to make.  I’ve been having a hard time sleeping.  I’m worrying.  I’m not resting.

Ok, I am resting.  I am enjoying a much lighter work schedule.  I am experiencing a slight improvement in my health thanks to the lessened stress and some new medical interventions.  The nest is empty again.  We are enjoying ourselves.

But I lie awake at night stewing and fussing.

Why? Well, to avoid over-sharing let me just say — finances.  Leaving my full-time position and enduring a constant stream of medical charges has caused a change in our financial situation — at least from my perspective.  I get myself pretty charged up about how we are going to recover financially — I lie awake shifting this account and that account; I picture paying off this bill and that bill.  I get myself convinced again that it is job my to resolve this situation.

I am going to pause here to let you shake your head for a few moments.

You finished?

Those few little questions at the bottom of Lisa Harper’s page jolted me.  Do I feel like I am moving from captivity to freedom? Or do I like the feeling of captivity so much that I want to keep picturing myself there? Just when I have been freed from my doing and soldiering and butt-kicking to rest in my little house by the river, I want to find some other battle to fight.  My last blog post was about repenting, resting, and re-setting for goodness’ sake.

Last Saturday I stood in the front of a classroom and showed a group of ladies how I had been walking in one direction and God had physically picked me up and turned me around to go in a different one.  I shared the relief and the new opportunities that this turning has given me, but I was not acknowledging that in the wee hours of the night I have been looking over my shoulder trying to see if that other way is actually the answer.

Go ahead, shake your head some more.  I am.

So, let me put it in print so that I don’t forget.  God brought us to this place.  He will provide for all of our needs.  He always has; He always will. It might not make sense on paper. I might not have all the answers.  However, our God who created the earth, who clothes the lilies of the field, who numbers the hairs on our heads, does have all the answers.  He has worked out our finances.  He has said to me, “Be still, Kristin, I’ve got this.” I feel like He has to say it over, and over, and over again.

But this morning, I hear Him.  So, I’ll just be over here chilling in my little house by the river.

Matthew 6: 30-31

 But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? 31 Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’

Walking in Confidence

~ Kristin ~ 2 Comments

It seems only fair that since I put you through the preliminary thinking for the workshop I taught today, I would also share with you the final product.  In retrospect, I feel that God used this opportunity, including the fact that my husband, who originally agreed to co-present with me, was called out of town, to allow me a chance to look in the rearview mirror to see what he has been doing within me for the past year or so.  It was really quite amazing to see the broader view and to then share that view with the ladies who joined me today.

The keynote shared some words of wisdom she had learned years ago, “you don’t have to step on every landmine that I have.” In that spirit, I share my presentation from today.

Walking in Confidence

This sectional is supposed to be about walking in confidence in ministry.  After 25 years of ministry with my husband, I can say it is really quite simple; just follow these instructions:

Proverbs 3 1-6

My daughter, do not forget my teaching, but let your heart keep my commandments,
2 for length of days and years of life and peace they will add to you.

3 Let not steadfast love and faithfulness forsake you; bind them around your neck; write them on the tablet of your heart.
4 So you will find favor and good success [a in the sight of God and man.

5 Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.
6 In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.

That’s it. Ok, go home and do that and you will be walking in confidence in ministry.

Wait, you say you can’t do that? What’s so hard about keeping commandments, binding love and faithfulness around your neck and writing them on your heart? You simply have to trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. Simple. In all your ways acknowledge him and he will make your paths straight.

No? Can’t do it? Me either. I keep failing. Over and over again.

I thought I was doing pretty well, way back in 2004. My husband was the Minister to Families at a local congregation. Our children were being raised in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. I was finishing my Master’s degree, substitute teaching, and writing for a National Lutheran publication. My husband felt the call of the Lord, so we packed our bags and moved to St. Louis to enter the Seminary. That should be an easy place to keep God’s commandments, bind love and faithfulness around my neck, write them on the tablet of my heart, and trust completely in God, right?

You’d think so.

But a lot of change happened very quickly. We not only got a new address, our kids got new schools, I got three new jobs in the first six months, my husband dove into studies, we lived in a small community of other families that were going through all the changes that we were, and, I’m gonna be honest – it was too much.

I went into survival mode.

I was the primary breadwinner – neither my children nor I were familiar with that. I was also still primarily responsible for all the things of the home—groceries, laundry, cooking, cleaning, etc. Yes, my husband helped with all of these things, but I still wore the responsibility for making them happen.

My position went from part-time to full time to full-time plus in just one year. I was a Lutheran educator wearing a variety of hats while still wearing the hat of mom and wife.

I abandoned all my good habits of Bible study, prayer, and fellowship – I forgot about God’s love and faithfulness, I decided to lean on my own understanding. I held myself responsible for making it all happen at Seminary. I put all my confidence in me.

Been there? If you have, you know that it got pretty messy.

God allows us to get there. He allows us to try out our own way. He allows us to have confidence in ourselves and our own strength. He allows it to get pretty messy.

Family relationships suffered. Friendships suffered. Finally my health suffered.

Yeah, my own strength wasn’t working out that great.

Over a period of time, God intervened. He drew me close enough to Him that I could hear His voice saying, “Come on, Kristin, it’s not working. Turn to me. Repent.”

I didn’t want to hear that, because I am a stubborn old gal. If I turned to Him, I would have to admit that I had been walking the wrong way,…for quite a long time. I pride myself in doing the right thing. Yeah, pride. That, too.

But He kept drawing me closer, kept repeating His message – “this is not working. You are suffering. The people around you are suffering.” I knew He was right, but I really didn’t want to change.

So, He did what any parent would do – He intervened. He relocated us and gave me a six-month opportunity to refresh. And during those six months he placed just the right people at just the right junctures. He placed me among women who invited me into conversations that helped me turn. They gave me a reason to do regular Bible study. They surrounded me with prayer. They encouraged me on my journey. They helped me re-set.  They helped me remember to put my confidence in Christ instead of putting it in myself.

This year has taught me a lot. It has taught me that God is a God of forgiveness and renewal. I want to invite you into that.

Repent – The word ‘repent’ carries a lot of baggage with it. We associate weeping and gnashing of teeth, sackcloth and ashes, and all other kinds of misery with repentance, but at it’s heart, it’s a turning.  It’s a turning from heading in the wrong direction to following in the right direction.  I know I tried to avoid being repentant, which in retrospect was rather foolish.  After all, God only wanted me to turn because He loves me.  Hear Him in this:

Proverbs 3:11-12

My daughter, do not despise the Lord’s discipline
or be weary of his reproof,
12 for the Lord reproves those he loves,
as a father the daughter in whom he delights.

Isaiah 30: 15

“In repentance and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.”

Take a moment to acknowledge any ways that you have ‘forgotten God’s teachings and disregarded his commands’. In what areas have you ‘leaned on your own understanding’?

Rest – The word ‘rest’ seems laden with laziness and irresponsibility rather than it’s true intention — restoration, recovery, and healing.  Many of us push through difficult times rather than allowing ourselves to rest.  Hear God on this:

Psalm 61:3-5 (Message)

You’ve always given me breathing room,
a place to get away from it all,
A lifetime pass to your safe-house,
an open invitation as your guest.
You’ve always taken me seriously, God,
made me welcome among those who know and love you.

Isaiah 40:29-31

He gives power to the faint,
and to him who has no might he increases strength.
30 Even wives shall faint and be weary,
and mothers shall fall exhausted;
31 but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;
they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary;
they shall walk and not faint.

Matthew 11:28

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

God desires for us to rest from our weariness.  He did create the Sabbath, didn’t He? Rest should not come merely in moments of desperation; it should be part of the rhythm of our lives  — daily rest, weekly rest, and seasonal rest.  It’s ok to schedule this in — to plan time each day, each week, and throughout the year to be still, be quiet, and to recover.  It is only when we take the time rest that we can be refueled for service.  It is only when we are quiet that we can hear God’s voice telling us to re-set.

Re-set –When you are resting, after you have had a chance to catch your breath, think about how you can re-set.

Ask yourself, what are my priorities? Then, does the way I spend my time reflect my priorities? How can it?  Am I putting my confidence in Christ?  Or am I putting my confidence in myself.

It’s not a magic cure.  I imagine I will be reliving this cycle over and over again in my life.  I know I will be tempted to take control, to rely on my own strength, and to go charging in my own direction.  However, I am confident of this — God will continue to beckon me back to Him, He will continue to welcome me back into His safe house, He will continue to set me again on His path.

May He do so for all of us.

Repent. Refresh. Reset.

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

So, as usual, my writing has sharpened my thinking.  I always tell my students this.  You don’t always know what you think until you start writing — so just write something.  You, my dear reader, may think that I write this blog to share my life with you, and indeed that is a nice bonus. But actually, I write this blog to figure out what I am thinking.  Knowing I have you as an audience is an additional check on my honesty.

Yesterday I shared that I will be speaking next weekend on the topic — ‘confidence in Christ’, specifically, how have I kept my confidence in Christ through the seasons of ministry.  Writing what I did yesterday got me to the place of acknowledging that it’s ok if I haven’t consistently had confidence in Christ, or more specifically, haven’t behaved as though I had confidence in Christ.  After all, it’s probably safe to say that all people falter in their faith.  In fact, women who come to a Saturday conference on having confidence in Christ have most assuredly had their moments of doubt.

And, from the comments I received from you, I think that at least some of these women will find it refreshing to hear that others have had a similar struggle.  One of you said that I should be ‘brutally honest’. Another said ‘bring the noise’!  Thanks guys, because you know me well enough to know that that is likely going to happen, whether I plan for it or not.  I am who I am.

One friend reminded me of a conversation that a few of us had last winter.  She simply said ‘Repent. Refresh. Reset.’ And I heard the song of my heart.  I love that those words don’t focus on the sin, as I am wont to do.  Rather, these three words focus on the remedy.  They remind me that in His story, God knew in advance that I would falter.  He knew that I could not remain consistently confident in Christ.  So, he provided a plan.  He said, Come to me all of you who are tired of soldiering, tired of kicking butts and taking names. He said, I will provide rest for your souls. He said, I don’t desire for you to die fighting; I desire for you turn to me, to try my pattern of living, and to realize that my way is much easier (Rathje Revised Version, all). 

So perhaps that is what will fill fifty-five minutes, stories of repentance, refreshing, and resetting.

That’s what this blog is, really. It’s the tale of me repenting of my self-sufficiency, of realizing in my weakness that He provides me with strength, of recognizing that a new way is needed, and beneficial, and blessed.

So, I share a few of my stories, and allow the ladies to share a few of theirs? We devise a way to keep sharing the stories of God’s faithfulness in our faithlessness? We commit to being brutally honest with one another?

Can you imagine the strength and encouragement that could come from such sharing? So many of you shared with me yesterday that you will be praying for me as I prepare for this Saturday.  Thank you!  Would you also pray for the ladies who will join me?  And pray for our time together? Please pray that our confidence in Christ would be renewed.

Acts 3:19

 Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord,