Category Archives: Searching in Fun

GTD

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Whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. Col.3:17.

My most game-changing goal in 2012 is to develop my productivity.  GTD = Getting Things Done.  Here are my commitments this year:

1.  Wife & Mommy (this entails shopping, meal planning, tickling, making crafts, traditions, family dates, laughing, disciplining, exploring, travelling, cooking, being silly, picnics, coloring, mopping, making forts, telling stories with silly voices, reading out loud, and lots more fun….).  I want to be super good at Wife/Mommy.  This is Numero Uno.

2.  Clean my house 1x/week (bathrooms, kitchen, vacuum, dust)

3.  Complete one professional development project (book proposal, manuscript, curriculum). I have a book proposal idea that captivates me….

4.  Blog 2x/week (3 is better)

5.  Function as a contributing member of the Women’s Leadership Team at Vanguard Church, which means bimonthly meetings and active administrative/relational support

6.  Complete a Bible Study curriculum to teach at Vanguard Church in Fall 2012

7.  Promote and support Women Inspired as the National Church Liaison Director

8.  Travel with my family to Hawaii for 3 weeks and England for 5-6 weeks, and possibly Cape Cod for some amount of time.

That seems like a lot to me.  I am confident that the commitments are manageable, but my productivity needs a boost or I will crumble to dust in, say, February.  Thankfully, I am married to the most productive person I have ever known, ever.  Ever.  He owes his prolific achievement to three powerful forces:  1.  innate drive, 2. Getting Things Done by David Allen, and 3. the Apple store.  I aim to channel his mojo with the self-same Productivity Trifecta.

1. Innate drive.  Check.  Wait, is that a 1997 rerun of Law & Order on TNT?  

2.  Getting Things Done by David Allen.  Yes.  I have it.  I promise to read it.  Even though it is boring to read books that are, ew, practical…..Sigh….. I already use the 2 Minute Rule and the filing system and, Ok, I admit it, they are totally rad.  (I am in love with the filing system because this week when I needed paperwork for Kindergarten registration, I opened my filing cabinet and, bam, immunization record and warranty deed and birth certificate.  Boom. Productive.)

3.  The Apple Store.  Snooze.  I mean, yes, honey, that app is TERRIFIC.  Wait, I just fell asleep again.

But Dreamy Scott loves me so he sets up the stuff he buys for us at the Apple store and tells me how to use it while my eyes glaze over.  Sometimes he even gives me his hand-me-down iStuff when Apple upgrades to, wait….yep, I just dozed off.

So, here I lay down my productivity gauntlet.  You may judge me with my blessing if I fail, but I am confident that I can do my work well if I will put on my big girl pants.  Pray for me to be productive so that (serious stuff ahead) I can reflect glory to the Lord in the callings in which I choose to walk.

But King David replied to Araunah, “No, I insist on paying the full price. I will not sacrifice a burnt offering that costs me nothing.”

1 Chron.21:24.

Space

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A person can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in their own toil. Ecc.2:24.

Yesterday my hilariously lovely friend Rebecca posted this on my Facebook wall – Girrrrl, you are QUIET!  Now, since I am NOT quiet as a character trait, I remain confident that Rebecca refers to my recent social networking silence.  I have thrown up a few well-deserved Facebook LIKES in the last week, but mostly we have dwelled in a special nook of home-space for the following reasons:

1.  Dreamy Scott was home for TWO WHOLE WEEKS.  Boom.  Family time.

2.  Christmas is an epic extravaganza in the White family – and I love every complicated, busy, overwhelming, expensive minute of it.  Immanuel-God-With-Us envelopes us with an opportunity to worship through togetherness and tradition, both light-hearted and deep.  I get lost in the work and the joy of it.

Making a candy cane shaped pizza on Christmas Eve

Pinata at Scott's company Christmas party

Presents? For ME?!?!

SOMEBODY was a sheep in the church musical. Baaaaaa.

Five Advent candles. Immanuel.

Wrapping baby Jesus in swaddling clothes (get it??)

Riding a pony on our Family Christmas Date

Christmas breakfast

Jesus' birthday cake

3.  After Christmas, Dreamy Scott and I hunkered down, cleaned up the mess, channeled our excess holiday adrenaline and went into what I can only describe as a pathological productivity vortex.  I mean, I think we both expected to relax for a minute, but GEEZ.  We painted our home office, cleaned out the basement and garage, redecorated the kids’ rooms, sorted through every possession we own, reorganized our storage and deep cleaned the house.  GTD.

4.  Steig Larsson.  I read all 1,431 pages of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo trilogy.  Yep, I can firmly confirm that the books are addicting, if (emphatically) not edifying.  Also, I read a biography of Catherine the Great.  Reading is, like, my favorite.  I do not often have time to read, so I drank in some hours on my Nook like a thirsty sponge – while the boys played Skylanders, which is a super sweet new Wii game that was part of our Christmas magic.

So, now that the last gasps of 2011 have died away, our little family emerges from a precious internal space to welcome the newborn year and its yet-untamed challenges refreshed, thankful, zestful – and a bit tired.

Game on, 2012.

Covered

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Blessed is the one whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered.  Ps.32:1.

Snow covers Colorado.  It started to fall soft and delicate last evening, while we celebrated our pre-Christmas with Grandma and Grandpa.  Tiny snowflakes swirled their way through the gathering dusk.  We watched them dance from under Christmas tree warmth.  Then we slept deep as the flakes swelled thicker and stronger, mounding heavy white upon the surfaces of our city.

Snow washes fresh and clean.  Snow covers soft and still.

Snow is a covering.  It strips away the grunge of daily grime.  It falls soft, dusting a blanket of icy cleansing, transforming neighborhood into wonderland.

Covering and cleansing.  That is what our dark stains cry for.  That is how Incarnation reached down for us – by covering us, cleansing us, causing the redeemed to dazzle with the purity of driven snow.

The Covering and Cleansing of Incarnate Grace falls down to grimy earth through Advent. He falls upon us, soft and still, unobtrusive, yet transforming everything that has ever been or ever will be, all at once, for all time –

White Christmas.

Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow. Ps.51:7.

Joy

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Many generations ago, simple shepherds watched over their sheep on a hillside on just another night.  Suddenly, the light of impending Joy dazzled their humble lives – and lit up all of history.

An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord.” Luke 2:9-11.

Yesterday we returned from a snow trip to Vail. We are tired, but we hold a new collection of white-dusted memories.  Tonight we light the candle of Joy.  It is a pink candle.  In advent tradition, purple is a somber color, pregnant with heavy meaning.  But pink is exuberant, overflowing with life.

Joy to the world.  The Lord is come…

…Let earth receive her King…

…Let every heart prepare Him room…

…And heaven and nature sing…

…And heaven and nature sing…

…And heaven, and heaven, and nature sing.

As tiny snowflakes dance over Vail, we abide under the jagged nearness of the Colorado Rockies.  We eat, sleep, play, rest, connect under its untamed shelter.  Nothing sings God’s glory like a wild mountain range coated with falling snow.  Nothing invites childish glee like an expanse of fresh powder.  Heaven and nature sing.  In the midst of Advent season, we roll away together for the simple purpose of enjoying the sweet wonder glowing in a snowy day.  Let every heart prepare Him room.  Snowball fight, flying intertubes, snow angels, hot cocoa, gondola, hot tub.  Joy to the world.

Immanuel-God-With-Us sought us in our heaviness and lifted us into freedom. The people living in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned. Mt.4:16.  He burst through His own grave to save us from ours.  It is a gift too great, too infinite, to bear on fragile shoulders.  Why, O why do we not crumble back to dust under the weight of it?  Always and only because the Gift is wrapped in Grace.  The proper response to Incarnation is infinite, overflowing, staggering, explosive, rollicking JOY JOY JOY JOY.

…Joy, unspeakable Joy, an overflowing well, no tongue can tell…

We are human, and therefore composed of dust and breath.  We cannot live on the high plane of Joy to which the gift of Incarnation forever beckons.  But we can, and ought, to revel in earthly Joys.  We should pursue them wholeheartedly in God’s name and to His glory.  (Snowball fight, flying intertubes, snow angels, hot cocoa, gondola, hot tub.)  Simple family laughter is a profound form of worship.

…Joy, unspeakable joy, rises in my soul, never lets me go…

What do you do to light the candle of advent Joy?

Preparation

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Prepare the way for the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Is.40:3.

I work fast and furious at the end of a long clamor of day hours.  My shoulders clench at what is still undone.  I mix gingerbread pancake batter, stir coconut milk hot cocoa, google advent verses, clean a bathroom that is simply too gross for me to have in my home for one more moment, tidy what feels like swamps of clutter, handwash dishes because my dishwasher is kaput (again. first world problems.)  My phone and computer blink as my inbox and voicemail bloat, unaddressed.  Unwrapped presents sit in piles downstairs.  Lucy needs a new winter coat before we leave for Vail.  The dog has not had a walk in days, and I neglect my writing.

I place the advent wreath in the center, the heart, of the dinner table.  I trace my fingers over the tiny porcelain baby Jesus. “Remember to remember Incarnation,” He whispers to me,”I AM the source of this season of swirling preparation.”

Jack and Lucy bounce at the garage door in anticipation of Daddy’s arrival.

The garage door finally rumbles.  The joy of Daddy’s homecoming lives daily triumphant in our home, resulting in a rousing game of CHASE.  Dreamy Scott kisses me hello, smiles into my eyes, but I see the creeping fatigue, the reckoning of endless hours. I recognize my story, too, in those weary eyes. This decade should be called the Tired 30s,” I remember sweet friend Kristen saying one night.  Yes.  We all live so tired from the effort of building a life worth rejoicing in.  It is hard work creating a safe place, beating back this fallen world.

CHASE reigns for a loud era of the evening.  Finally, we sit around the table, preparation finished, dinner hot and inviting. We eat and laugh.  Our shoulders relax; the tangled knots of stress fall away in the warmth of happy voices.

We light the Candle of Hope with a flare of fire.  We review our prayers of Hope from last week.  Then I hold steady the Candle of Hope while Jack tips the waiting wick of the new candle, Preparation, into the flame.  The Candle of Preparation – ignited by Hope.  We sit in silence for just a moment as we gaze at the glimmers.

“Do you know what preparation means?  It means getting ready for something.  What are we getting ready for right now?  Yes, right, Christmas!  Advent is when we remember to wait for God.  He is already here, of course, but Advent reminds us of waiting for the very best gift in all of history – baby Jesus.  Tonight we celebrate preparation, getting ready for Jesus.  We remember that is is valuable to work hard for something that has not yet happened, but will certainly come.” 

The candles gleam a circle of golden light dancing on the faces of the Three I love.  My heart turns over in the candlelight. I remember why I spend my days in constant movement.  I do it for them.  I look at Scott, reach out to touch his fingers.  He does it for us.  We are so tired from the busy preparation for the sake of worthy goals.  

We need the warm blaze of hope to redeem cold preparation. The fallen core of this world will not repair until the end of days.  Until then, we spin in endless cycles of renewal and dying. We live tired because all that is worth fighting for costs the best of who we are.  

My heart took delight in all my labor, and this was the reward for all my toil. 
Yet when I surveyed all that my hands had done and what I had toiled to achieve, everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind; nothing was gained under the sun. Ecc.2:10-11.

But Hope ignites Preparation.  I whirl, exhausted but happy, in ever-circling revolutions of entropy because I lift my eyes to the Hope of Incarnation. Immanuel-God-With-Us transforms our tired stories into a preparation for eternity, for everlasting worship, for celestial reward.  Christmas is a vortex of busy-ness, yes, and that will always be.  Beyond this season, simply living a faithful life on this side of eternity wears our souls ragged.  But living zealously is worth the effort, since our dead souls have been resurrected by Immanuel’s flame of hope.

A person can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in their own toil. This too, I see, is from the hand of God, for without him, who can eat or find enjoyment? 

 To the person who pleases him, God gives wisdom, knowledge and happiness. Ecc.2:24-26.

Hope

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It is good to wait silently for the salvation of the Lord. Lam.3:26.

Tonight we welcome advent as a family.  Advent is defined by purposeful waiting for a sure Salvation, certain but not yet grasped.  Advent is hope promised but still deferred. In Advent tradition, the Christ-child, the Savior, is nearly come, but He is not here yet.

Jack lights the Candle of Hope, his posture strong yet shy as he navigates the flame.  He catches Daddy’s eye in awe as the blaze licks the wick, catches, flares, then settles – Hope newly aflame.  

This week God ignites a fresh flame of hope.  My past four years were a crucible, characterized by crushing failure, aching loss, relentless opposition, piercing judgment, intervening rescue and infinite grace upon grace.  My life became a long season of Advent, of hope-certain-but-not-yet.  My fragile humanity crumbles to fragments, but I am safe, upheld by divine mercy.  I lived in dust, waiting, hoping, for my God to someday lift me out.

It is good for a man to bear the yoke 
   while he is young.

 Let him sit alone in silence, 
   for the Lord has laid it on him. 
Let him bury his face in the dust— 
   there may yet be hope. 

Lam.3:27-29.

Today is a step into Hope.  It is my first day officially back on the women’s ministry leadership team at church, the same church that released me four years ago.  The enemy of our souls snarls and snaps, but Living Grace is my everlasting Hope and I am undone by His neverending cascades of loving favor.  My role on leadership is quiet writing for a season as the Lord builds a new vision in the women of our church.  God is birthing a dream within in our team for a deeper teaching ministry to women, so I will create a Bible study curriculum scheduled at this point to launch in Fall 2012 at Vanguard Church.

My heart brims over as I watch the Candle of Hope flicker on the faces of my favorite Three.  I rest in the glow of Advent, the long arriving redemption.  I remember the long trail of brokenness behind us.  I remember the bloody, battered talons we inserted into the Hope of God-promises through that long season of bitter gall.  I remember the joy of steadily dawning freedom shining over our recovery path.  Bless the Lord, O my soul, O my soul, worship His Holy Name.  Sing like never before, O my soul, and worship His holy name.  Matt Redman. 10,000 Reasons.

I exult that the Lord keeps His promises, that our Hope is eternally sure.  I revel in the grace of family in the glow of candlelight. I rejoice that God gives me a new voice to proclaim His brilliant glory to His beloved.

What do you hope for from the Lord right now? we ask each other in the Light of hope.

Lucy says, Blue and Pink.

Daddy & Mommy say, we hope that the Lord will alleviate personal and professional pressure & attack at work.

Jack, the little theologian, says this, I hope for faith, hope and love.

YES. And Amen.

Aglow

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He loves like a hurricane.  I am a tree, bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy.  John Mark McMillan.

The Bible says that Jesus wrapped Himself in flesh when just the right time for birthing grace had come.  When the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his son, born of a woman. Gal.4:4.  A single mother, a simple village, an animal trough.  Then angels serenaded a hillside of  shepherds bathed in a glimpse of heaven’s brilliance. Kings from the far east traversed heavy miles to surrender earthly majesty to newborn Diety.

We are all aglow in the Light of Incarnation.

Sleepy Bethlehem, that humble town of Kings, slumbers while a young virgin brings forth Glory dimmed by clod-skin, the divine mingling of fragility and might. He is born in a rush of blood and water, born to die, born to a life of dust and a death of agony.  The dividing line of redemptive history takes His first breaths, hidden in a stable while the world, through some hushed miracle, continues to revolve even under the weight of Incarnate Redemption.  How, O how, Lord, did this spinning fallenness not crumble to pieces in Your orbit?  You orchestrated a choir of mere shepherds and an entourage of weary kings?  It is a wonder that all of heaven did not rush down in arms to declare the mighty invasion of God With Us. 

Heaven meets earth like an unforeseen kiss.

God With Us brings me to my knees.  Nothing overpowers me with worship like the story of Living Grace, walking among ghosts, brimming over purifying mercy into this thirsty black hole.

And He is our portion and He is our prize

Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes

If grace is an ocean, we are all sinking….

Tomorrow our family welcomes Advent, heralded by egg nog french toast and Tammy Maltby’s simmering hot cocoa. Advent is why we fill our home with light, why we lovingly arrange the seasonal beauty of red, green and gold.  During Advent we wash ourselves with the glory of Incarnation.  We reach upwards in glowing intimacy to the God who (O how He loves us) reached down for us.

O how He loves us.

Eucharisteo

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Giving thanks, this is an awakening — the breath of God upon the face, close and warm. Ann Voskamp.

Eucharisteo is Greek for Thanksgiving.

It evokes eucharist, bread-and-wine-communion, the absorbing and taking in of Christ.  We take communion to remember how He bled His new covenant of grace over our fatal wounds, our slow dying.  Do this in remembrance of Me. Luke 22:19.  Eucharisteo is a life of communion, a face turned upward to glory in forever-remembering.  Remembering has one pure result: eucharisteo, thanksgiving.  Read this, an invitation to be changed by a thanksgiving life.

Sometimes eucharisteo is a flame that burns purifying pain into a broken story.   It can be a sacrifice that feels too great to bear, a deep and holy offering from shaking hands.  I have walked that desperate journey (perhaps will walk it again).  I know, Lord, that in faithfulness you have afflicted me. May your unfailing love be my comfort. Psalm 119:75. 

Then, other times, eucharisteo is as easy as breath.  Sometimes God dazzles us with grace upon grace, a heaping of YES and AMEN.  Sometimes His bottomless mercies shower like rain.  Then eucharisteo is an anthem of joy that rises from a dancing heart.  The Lord your God is with You, a victorious warrior. He will rejoice over you with shouts of joy. Zeph.3:17-18.

Then again, sometimes eucharisteo is sweet and still.  Sometimes thanksgiving is entwined within the sturdy fabric of daily rhythms, yearly traditions, simple fragments of a righteous life.  Often, eucharisteo is woven through roasted turkey, spiced cider, pumpkin pie.  The precious rituals of the fourth Thursday in November are not the true Thanksgiving, but they can be the tethers that anchor us to a deeper truth, a richer worship.

I wake early on Thanksgiving morning, linger over coffee and Matthew 1, the whisper of advent.  I grind wheat to make the first of the year’s batches of Christmas bread dough, a rich recipe that tastes like warm tradition.  I shape the dough into cinnamon rolls, dinner rolls and loaves – the recipe is bountiful, like the season.  Lucy and I don matching aprons.  She licks the honey spoon, eyes alight.  It is over 60 degrees in Colorado on Thanksgiving Day.  Dreamy Scott and Jack play football and soccer in the unexpected sun.  A quiet heart day, spent readying ourselves for a feast of thanks.

We eat late, as the sun sets, after a day of shining and play.  We pray over the five kernels of corn hidden under the napkins (hidden like so many jewel of grace that we do not see) in our salad bowls.  We remember the pilgrims who died by the scores in the terrible first winter with only five kernels of daily corn.  They still praised God, and He heard their cries, providing a way to future abundance.  True Thanksgiving is always a remembering worship of His Story.  We linger over conversation, pecan pie, mulled wine and football.  The Lord has blessed our family with a mighty blessing, and we remember the God who loves us with an everlasting Love.

Thanksgiving

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Remember God’s bounty in the year.  String the pearls of His favor.  Hide the dark parts, except so far as they are breaking out in light!  Give this one day to thanks, to joy, to gratitude!  ~Henry Ward Beecher

May your countenance beam Love’s Light in Eucharisteo, Thanksgiving.  May you praise Him with songs of Thanksgiving, for no drop of praise is ever wasted in the heavenly country.  May you consecrate your precious traditions with holy worship.

With praise and thanksgiving they sang to the Lord: “He is good; His love toward His people endures forever.” And all the people gave a great shout of praise to the Lord. Ezra 3:11.

May our Thanksgiving days be mighty shouts of praise.

Happy Eucharisteo Day.

Psalm

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Psalm 100

A Psalm for giving thankful praise 

Another family night.  Pumpkin pancakes and cheesey eggs.  Jack reads Psalm 100 to the family – slowly, confidently.  It is the first time I hear Jack read Scripture. His little boy-voice speaking the Words of God fills my soul to brimming.  Eucharisteo.

 Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth. 
 Worship the Lord with gladness; 
   come before him with joyful songs. 


Know that the Lord is God. 
   It is he who made us, and we are his


   we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.

 Enter His gates with thanksgiving 
   and His courts with praise; 


   give thanks to Him and praise His name. 
For the Lord is good and His love endures forever; 


   His faithfulness continues through all generations.

After Jack reads Psalm 100, we each choose a bag.  We all fill our bag with fragments of joy, tokens of thankfulness from our home.  We must offer a prayer of thanksgiving before dropping an item in the bag.  Little voices whisper, thank you, Jesus, for my blankie.  Jesus, thank you for Lulu’s book.  Bags of blessings, consecrated with the kisses of family prayers.

We unpack our bags together, sharing the fullness of iridescent grace.  We laugh together, re-discover that we have an avalanche of good gifts that envelope us, like pa-pas (pacifiers), toothpaste, Tim Tebow, spiderman, Juice Plus, Prisoner red blend, Mommy’s tacky Cubbies shirt, iPhones, Mac n Cheese and Pumpkin Spice K-cups.  We pray together. We thank God for our bursting bags, our overflowing hearts. It is there in the posture of united thanksgiving that the Holy Spirit forges sacred steel in this generation.

We are beneficiaries of an infinite luminous mercy – a family bathed in endless grace.

Know that the Lord is God. 
   It is he who made us, and we are his. 

Psalm 100:3.

My heart is full.  My life, my family is a Psalm of thanksgiving.  All is grace.