Finding Shelley At Christmastime

December 17, 2014September 21, 20162 Comments

For years I have struggled to find her. For seventeen Christmases I have looked for her but I have been so overcome with grief that my eyes couldn’t see what was right in front of me.

Christmas is a hard time of year for anyone who has lost a family member.

As a fourteen year old girl I lost my mother and it has taken me almost two decades to recover.

For as long as I could remember I was waiting for others to bring her back. I put the expectations on others to do Christmas like she did and each year Christmas passed and my expectations were not met. I felt disappointment and loss in the belly of my soul and this made the cycle of grief start all over again.

Finally, this Christmas I have found hope. I have found the hope in honoring her, after sixteen other Christmases have passed. Sheesh, it feels like it took a lifetime. But today it was worth the wait.

Today, I found my mom in the simple words of a recipe for Christmas cookies. Just one taste of the uncooked batter brought me back to childhood in her kitchen years ago. I baked Christmas cookies with my kids today and I told stories about my mom at Christmas.

I found her in the handwriting of her recipe book. The large loops in her cursive and the perfection and consistency of each stroke.

While I iced the Christmas Tree shapes and added the red hots I told my sons this was something I looked forward to every Christmas as a child. I told them I would even sneak bites of the refrigerated batter and how my mom would catch me anyway.

There have been plenty of opportunities for me to choose bitterness and loss and grief at Christmastime. There are plenty of opportunities for me to stick in the cycle of grief and let the bitterness take root and grow.

If she was here it would be different. It would be better. I do miss her. My kids and my husband have never experienced her laughter. My kids have not been able to experience the blessing of involved maternal grandparents.

I could choose to celebrate Christmastime with emptiness each year.

But instead, I choose HOPE in the midst of loss and unmet expectations.

Hope falters the growth of bitterness. Choosing hope at Christmas is a choice.

I choose to find my mom in the traditions and the stories. This has not happened overnight. It has taken sixteen years of sadness and choosing grief and the plauging seed of bitterness over the fruitful seed of hope.

Hope is what would be honoring to my mom at Christmas anyway. She wouldn’t want it any other way. If she was here she would tell me to dry my tears and teach my children to find her at Christmas. Grandma Shelley is not here physically but she lives her in our traditions.

Finding Shelley in the traditions is a choice.

Finding hope in loss is a choice.

Finding Shelley at Christmas has taken me almost two decades but I am thankful I found her today. In the cookies. The simple cookies with the red hots.

And I hope to pass her on to my children. I hope to give them hope. And stories. I hope to teach them that God’s story is full of people who lost but these same people had their eyes fixed on something Greater.

Because A Mother Is Beautiful All By Herself

November 18, 2014November 18, 20141 Comment

There was a time not too long ago when I didn’t want to have my picture taken. Sometimes I was the one taking the pictures but other times I just didn’t want to see myself photographed. I was unhappy with the way I looked and I did not want my children to remember the time when mommy’s hips were more rounded and her face was a little fuller.

Specifically I remember being at a baseball game and I was gathering my boys close for a picture of them with their rally caps on. A young guy in the row in front of us sweetly turned around and offered to take the photo for us. He immediately looked puzzled when I quickly declined and told him I wasn’t planning on seeing myself in pictures for at least ten more years.

That was really true and there it was: Out of my mouth my heart spoke the words: I am not beautiful enough to be remembered for who I am, right now, just this way.

I have heard this story before. My mom rarely wanted to be photographed while she was battling cancer while I was a child. I hear my grandmother tell me, she did not want you all to remember her that way. I love my mother and that was her wish but now here I am left without her and I barely have any pictures with her and me in them. I cannot think of more than five photos I have of her and me together from the age of five until she passed away when I was fourteen.

To me she was beautiful.

As a child, I didn’t see a bald woman or a woman with only one breast. I saw my mother. And a mother is beautiful all by herself.

To my children, a mother is beautiful all by herself.

There will be a time when I am no longer here on this earth and my sweet children will be longing for memories of me. My children will not be concerned about my chin, my dark circles, or my roots that should have been touched up last week. My children will just want to see me. And them. They will want to hold something more tangible than a memory that puts me with them in that place at that time.

Our children don’t care how we look for the camera, because to them, a mother is beautiful all by herself.

You can see I have some unraveling to do when it comes to this whole idea of being beautiful. Just the way I am. Right now. In this time. In this place.

I will tell you I know what the Bible says about being beautiful. I will even tell you I have those verses memorized. But even though I know what the Bible teaches on a cognitive level about beauty – it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that the attitude of my heart and my unwillingness to be photographed show a tangled up mess of belief and unbelief when it comes to my appearance. What I believe and what I actually do just don’t match up.

As God has been faithful to work on my unbelieving heart I can see the places where I have the “beliefs of the world” tangled up in what is true about beauty from the passages of Scripture.

I’ve realized that to the people who matter, a mother is beautiful all by herself.

God speaks to beauty in His words to us in the Bible and according to Him our beauty has nothing to do with the amounts of hairs on our head, the clothes that we wear or what the scale is saying about us on any given day.

“Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting but a woman who fears the Lord will be praised.” Proverbs 31:30

“Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.” (1 Peter 3:3)

“But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look on appearance. For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7)

“Behold, you are beautiful, my love; behold, you are beautiful.” Song of Solomon 1:15

God’s words in the Bible do not say the same things the world is screaming to us about beauty. It is challenging to unravel the untruth from the truth. Mostly because as a mom, I am constantly surrounded by a world telling me to be thinner, to wear the latest trendiest boots, to be a hot mommy, to make sure my thighs aren’t touching. I could go on for days. Days.

God is telling us from His word that beauty comes from the blatant opposite or what our world tells us is beautiful.

Beauty comes from giving up of yourself. And chasing after Good.

Beauty does from bravely enduring hardship. Like my mother. She is a heroine and I just won’t stop saying that.

Beauty is a mother. Giving up herself.

A mother is beautiful all by herself. A mother doesn’t need to hit that weight loss goal, make her hair the right color or wear the trendiest clothes. To God, your husband, you children, none of that matters. They want you in those photos. I know. And I am telling you.

“Behold, you are beautiful, my love; behold, you are beautiful.” Song of Solomon 1:15

Go and be photographed. Hang those photos on the wall and post them to Facebook. Because a mother is beautiful all by herself.

How The Power Of Choice Saved Me

November 11, 2014November 12, 20142 Comments

I haven’t been married or parenting for very long according to most of your terms.

But the power of choice has saved me as a wife and as a mother.

In my life I have lived with mostly men. I have been married for almost a decade and I have three sons. Before my married life, I lived with my brother and because my mom passed away when I was fourteen, I had to try to learn to communicate with the opposite gender, my father, from a very young age.

For the last almost twenty years I have been communicating with mostly men and I have learned a special secret that seems to keep everyone happy.

The power of choice.

It is simple.

The power of choice has always worked for me in the past and now I find it working in my marriage to diffuse small conflicts with my sons, as young as eighteen months, when it comes down to meltdowns vs. happy places.

The power of choice.

What I have learned about myself:

I have learned as a woman that contrary to popular belief, I actually know exactly what I want. I know how I want it done, when I want it done and what kind of wrapping paper it should be in. I know that sometimes when things don’t go exactly the way I want them to go I tend to lose my cool. So, I have developed my system to make things eb-and-flow in our household a little more eb-and-flowish.

The power of choice.

What I have learned about men:

From the wise-aged-grandfather types to tiny-toddler-master-minds. If they are male, they want to feel like they made the final choice. They want to bang the gavel. The power helps them feel more male or something. This is not chauvinistic, or demeaning. Men just want to feel respected. Making the final choice helps them feel respected.

Men also really dislike being told what to do. Just giving orders like, do the dishes or take out the trash seem bring more agony to the task than the simplicity of the power of choice.

So in the most loving way, I have learned to turn over my power. For their respect and for my good.

I let the boys and my husband choose almost everything. It’s really simple and it can work for you too with the boys in your home.

How this plays out in our home:

With my husband I give him the power to choose.

“Hey honey, I need the dinner cleaned up and all four children need a bath. Which would you like to do?”

“Hey sweetheart, this diaper needs to be changed and the laundry needs to be folded, which do you choose?”

“Tonight we are going on a date, where would you like to go?”

Or the best, mother of all master plans, I give my husband a list of ten chores and I tell him to choose which four he would like to do. A scurvy twist on the honey do list. But after everything is finished everyone is happy.

With my sons this looks like:

“Which shirt would you like to wear?” ( I have chosen two acceptable choices and then they are allowed to bang the final gavel.)

“I am going to clean up this mess, would you like to be responsible for the legos or the action figures?”

“You have an assignment to do. Would you like to do it now, or would you like to wait until after you play?”

“You have to eat you dinner. Would you like to have three bites or five bites before you are allowed to have dessert?”

Truly, every battle you have with the males in your home can be made into some kind of choice.

And males love the power of choice.

The power of choice has saved me as a woman outnumbered in this home. If you are outnumbered or even if you have any males that you love in your home you need to know about the power of choice. It has saved me so many scuffles and actually, in it’s humble approach, has given me power.

You can do it too.

Give those boys the power to choose.

Make your life easier.

Tell others about the power of choice.

Sister, it will save you too.

A Letter To My Self-Righteous Self

November 8, 2014November 8, 2014Leave a comment

Hey You.

I know you.

I know your better than thou look, I know your better than thou pounding heart. When you become bothered by an opinion that is differing from your own.

I see you try to rise up in my heart. About parenting. About marriage. About church. About schooling. About theology.

The I’m doing this right vs. everyone else is doing this wrong.

Self-Righteous Self, you have no idea because you hear yourself louder than you hear Jesus.

I see you in the words scribbled in my Bible from years ago. You thought you knew. You thought the layers of sin had been pulled away. You thought some simple I’m sorry’s to God could erase the wounds to His heart and lead you on the path to heal others.

I see your posts on social media from years passed. You were so quick to defend and so quick to point out the mistakes of others. You were void of your own failures and your own personal mistakes.

I see you trying to come out when you try to post to defend on social media and your I’s and your We’s are bolded and your eyes of Christ are nowhere to be found.

I’m glad I’m a little beyond you now. Just a little. Not enough to overcome you but enough to recognize you on the hill standing above me, ready to overtake any will power I have left.

Self righteous self, you like to dominate me. Especially when I feel bravery behind a screen.

Especially when I hear my defensiveness and my prone to post articles in favor of my largest idols. I know you are screaming to overtake me from that high hill.

When I hear the advice I lend to others headlined with a “you are just like me” I know it is time to fight you ..with the sword of the Holy Spirit. You could never overtake me alone from where you are positioned.

I have been self-righteous in the past and I have a tendency to be self-righteous in the present. It is all too easy for you to rise up and overtake me.

Constantly I need to read what God says about you. This part of me standing atop the high hill-

What does God say about self righteousness?

(Romans 14:1) Accept those whose faith is weak. Don’t judge them where you have differences of opinion.

(1 John 4:19-21) We love because he loved us first. 20 Anyone who says he loves God but in fact hates his brother or sister is a liar. He doesn’t love his brother or sister, whom he has seen. So he can’t love God, whom he has not seen. Here is the command God has given us. Anyone who loves God must also love his brothers and sisters.

Self righteousness, who are you to think you have the God of The Universe figured out?

When your words begin with understanding, I will hear you louder.

When your heart bounds with compassion for others opposite of you I will let you speak.

Jesus did not die for us to spout off what we think is right.

Jesus died for us first.

Jesus died for us to love sinners next. Really love them were they are NOW.

When your I’s are softer and your love is louder you will be heard. That is when you will graduate from self-righteousness to Christ’s righteousness. Until then you are silenced. Even though my fingers may begin to type… the Holy Spirit is louder and will for sure delete you.

Self-righteous self, until your views be less, the power of God within me will help you be less too.

Self-righteous self, you do not know what you think you know.

May the POWER OF GOD change you. From the inside out.

From Matthew 5,

Jesus began to teach them.

He said,

3 “Blessed are those who are spiritually needy.
The kingdom of heaven belongs to them.
4 Blessed are those who are sad.
They will be comforted.
5 Blessed are those who are free of pride.
They will be given the earth.
6 Blessed are those who are hungry and thirsty for what is right.
They will be filled.
7 Blessed are those who show mercy.
They will be shown mercy.
8 Blessed are those whose hearts are pure.
They will see God.
9 Blessed are those who make peace.
They will be called sons of God.
10 Blessed are those who suffer for doing what is right.
The kingdom of heaven belongs to them.
11 “Blessed are you when people make fun of you and hurt you because of me. You are also blessed when they tell all kinds of evil lies about you because of me. 12 Be joyful and glad. Your reward in heaven is great. In the same way, people hurt the prophets who lived long ago.

Self-righteous self, may you desire to be more like Jesus and His teachings.

Unraveling Anxiety

November 5, 2014November 5, 20163 Comments

I dance with worry and anxiety too often. Sometimes I let anxiety lead the rhythm of my step. I find my feet walking to it’s beat.

Just like you when a child naps in the afternoon who usually does not I may begin to worry that he may be ill. I am walking in anxiousness waiting for that thermometer to read above 100.5.

Or other times when my husband is not home at the usual time and is also unreachable on his phone. My mind assumes that something is really wrong, most of the time assuming the worst and waiting for an officer to show up at my doorstep to tell me my husband has been in a terrible car accident. The rhythm of anxiety causes my mind to pace just to keep up with it’s steps.

Most of the time what I see in myself when I am dancing is really just the symptoms of anxiety. I see the dance of anxiety and I am beginning to recognize it’s luring rhythm. Racing mind, racing heart, outrageous thoughts, sweating plams, edgy tone, words that spew out of my mouth like an unredeemed child with an out of control God. Words like:

I fear…

I can’t…

It won’t…

I try to cover up the symptoms of anxiety with prayer and verses memorized from scripture or verses found in the Bible topic glossary under the bolded words: worry and anxiety. But the worries come back. I find myself back in the luring rhythms dancing with worry and anxiety because I am only seeing what is above the surface.

I forget to go down deep below the surface and take a good look at the giant glacier below me- where worry and anxiety are breeding a faulty foundation completely out of sight.

I am lured by worry and anxiety in my thought life because beneath the surface I have an unbelieving heart.

Beneath the surface I am drinking from the broken cistern of control. (Jeremiah 2:13 For my people have committed two sins. They have forsaken me the spring of living water and they have dug their own cisterns:broken cisterns that cannot hold water.)

Beneath the surface I am a beautiful jagged mess of pride and unbelief.

My pride desires to be in control. I want to know what is coming. I want to prepare my heart. My pride believes if I know what’s coming I can be more prepared. My pride tells me I am able to do all things. Like Eve, I want to taste the fruit so my eyes will be opened and I will then know like God knows.

My unbelief is screaming I have giant patches of cold glacier where I fail to know the character of a loving God. In my unbelieving desire to control I forget that God is in control of all things for his redeemed children. In my unbelief I choose to dance with the enemy instead of the One who truly loves me and knows the plans He has for me. (Jeremiah 29:11)

I’ve always known I am prone to worry. When I sing the words from “Come Thou Fount Of Every Blessing”

Prone to wander Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love- I think of my anxious adulterous dance. My constant pattern of leaving the God I love to wander over and let the rhythm of worry and anxiety control my steps.

It has just been recently that I have had the courage to look deep beneath the surface at the giant glacier of pride and unbelief breeding below me. Where the desire to control and the unbelief in my Great God are growing beneath the surface of my anxious symptoms.

Before I can examine what is tangled up beneath the surface I need to know how loved by God. I need His presence and His Spirit to be present with me.

So with courage and the armor of the Holy Spirit I have been willing to go down beneath the surface. When I see the beautiful jagged mess below. I am heartbroken. I didn’t even know about my broken cistern to be in control. But with the armor of the Holy Spirit I remember that God knew this about me anyway and He still sent Jesus to die on the cross for that icy jagged mess. I place my hand on my head to remember that no matter the mess my helmet of salvation is secure.

image via “practical pages”

With the armor of the Holy Spirit I can begin to unravel all the tangled up dances from wandering back and forth between belief and unbelief. With the armor of the Holy Spirit I know I have a Great Surgeon who helps me go to work, ever so gently to unravel the wandering mess I’ve made.

For now I am going down deep beneath the surface to fight the unbelief and pride of my heart. Not alone but with the armor of the Holy Spirit. With truth. With the gospel of peace. With the helmet of salvation secure.

I am called Sought Out. A city not forsaken. God remembers me and He cares for me SO MUCH that I am sought after. (Isaiah 62:12)

Why do I let the myths of anxiety lure me when I have a God like this?

I believe. Help my unbelief.

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Where do you feel the lure of the dance of worry and anxiety?

Marriage?

Family?

Election?

Job Security?

Relationship Security?

Final Exams?

*********

Is God calling you to look beneath the surface at the glacier below you? Take your armor with you.

Let the Great Surgeon help you unravel.

And dance with the One who calls you Sought Out.

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Rachel Craddock

Tag: Divine grace

Finding Shelley At Christmastime

Because A Mother Is Beautiful All By Herself

How The Power Of Choice Saved Me

A Letter To My Self-Righteous Self

Unraveling Anxiety

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