What Will it Cost Me?

I was talking with a friend about a story we read about a Korean woman who was killed in 1839 by Korea's pagan regime. She and her husband were arrested for their faith (catholics were being persecuted during this regime) and imprisoned. While in prison, she was made to listen to the screams of her twelve-year-old son being tortured in an adjacent cell. Her cruel captors would torment her further by describing to her afterwards how they had tortured her child. She was beheaded at the age of 36 because she would not renounce her faith.

Having children, my friend and I wondered whether if faced with a similar choice we would choose faith or our children.

We pray we never have to make that decision, and also pray for those around the world who even today have choices like that to face.

Today's gospel reading is related to this. It is from Luke 14: 25-33. I'll let you read it for the details. Basically, Jesus addresses the crowds and tells them that if they choose to follow Him, all else comes second--family included. And then he asks who, if planning a project (I'm very much paraphrasing here) does not first sit down and calculate the cost to see if there is enough for its completion.

You think about your choice, you understand what it can cost you, and you continue forward--not in blindness, but in full understanding of the consequences.

Following Jesus is not for the faint-hearted. It is not a "happy" life, per se. It is joyful, and full of peace, but Jesus did not promise us happiness on this earth. We are asked to follow a God/man who leads us to the cross.

I've been praying since age 17 that if presented a situation where my choice to follow Him could mean I give my life, that He give me the grace and strength to say yes to Him. I pray now that if presented a situation where my choice to follow Him could mean my children lose their lives, that He give me the strength and the grace to say yes to Him. To give life for Life.

Because without Him, nothing else matters or has meaning. Not even my children's lives.

My Pondering for Today....

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Silence is the safe guardian of humility.

--Elisabeth Leseur

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I Wish My Name was Yoder

"What!?"......yep. Yoder. Amish people are named Yoder--some of them, anyway.

I was talking with a friend the other day about how we are both trying to be more "in the moment". And I was pondering that conversation tonight driving home from a meeting. And then I heard this goofy commercial on the radio about a "Yoder auction" service. And I thought to myself......"Yoder......hmmm...amish....the amish seem to know how to live in the moment!" (just to give you a glimpse into the inner workings of my mind) And if the Amish people named Yoder know how to live in the moment, then I want to be a Yoder (just to close the circle on my thinking in case you weren't quite sure...).

So as a Yoder, I'm good at being in the moment during moments I want to be in. Like laying next to my boys tonight snuggling them before bed--in the dark, listening to their breathing, feeling the rise and fall of their chests under my arm draped over them, pondering how big their bodies are getting and how small they used to be, wondering when the last time ever will be that they say, "Mama, will you snuggle me?"

I can handle being in the moment during times like that.

Sometimes I think when we think about being "in the moment," we think only of the good moments--using the saying as a reminder to slow down, take it all in, not to miss anything.

But what about the moments we don't want to be in? Would we say to someone else in moments like those "Just be in the moment"??? We know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. But none of us want those we love to have to be in the moment of suffering--emotional or otherwise. Neither do I want to be in those moments.

Do I? Should I try to be a Yoder in those times, too? Because when I think about the times that I'm not good in the moment, the times that I'm waiting to get onto the next "good" time, all I'm really doing is wanting to get out of the moment. To avoid an uncomfortable confrontation. To stop squirming with awkwardness and helplessness at the expression of someone's grief--a suffering I cannot remove. To make some excitement for an otherwise mundane and ordinary day. To pass a time of loneliness in expectation of that next intimate connection with someone.

Now that I type about it, I think maybe I am a Yoder in those moments, too. I mean, if I wasn't, would I even be aware that I was wanting out? Probably not.

Maybe I'm more in the moment than I think, and it's just that I don't necessarily like every moment that comes my way.

Thanks for being a Yoder--for being in my moment here.

Bobette the Builder

I read a post today describing motherhood (but we can substitute parenthood for you males) analagous to building a great cathedral. It talks about the strenuous, rewarding, vision-casting, perseverance-testing, seemingly endless and repetitive job of raising children. The article said there are four similarities:

1. No one can say who built the great cathedrals—we have no record of their names.
2. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
3. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
4. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

I love analogies. But I had two reactions to this one. The first--irritability.....because:

1. I want my name known.
2. I want to see the influence and impact of my actions.
3. I want credit.
4. I want others' eyes to see my building--not just God's eyes.

O.k. So I'm not proud of those, even though I am prideful. Hmmmph. But there is hope for me. My second set of reactions (albeit more slow to come around than the first.....work on that, God, 'k?) are thus:

1. As long as the job is finished and my boys come to know Him, my name can be mud.
2. I will see it finished one day.....God willing!!! (in heaven!)
3. I can do sacrifice, and without credit. I'm getting better! God's brought me a long way! and there are days when the realist in me knows absolutely that "there by the grace of God go I," and by nothing of my own effort whatsoever.
4. Knowing God's eyes see everything helps me persevere in the building.

Build on, construction workers, build on!!

Anticipation

We just returned from a wonderful family weekend--just the four of us. Times like that are few and far between and oh so precious. I get to sit back, look at my little guys and ponder how much they've grown, how little time before they leave home, and the wonderful personalities God has given them. My heart always lurches.

School starts tomorrow. I will miss them. Yet I look forward to watching how they will grow and learn. They will change.

Anticipation. There is change in the air. I feel it. I love the adventure of the unknown--the future....good and bad.

I've been thinking a lot about a prayer a friend of mine has been uttering every morning lately.....a simple "Yes, Lord." Before she starts her day. And probably in the midst of it--I'll have to ask her.

It challenges me. What do I say "yes" to, and what do I say "no" to? I want to say yes to all God brings my way.

I love a saying I heard once.....that God is not a "safe" God. He is good, loving, merciful, just....but not "safe". But despite the scariness of that unknown adventure, there is great anticipation to where he will lead me.

I want to say "yes." Like my friend does. Thank-you, friend!