Margaret McSweeney's Blog, page 30

Impossible Goals and the Things I Never Say | Amanda Jenkins

I grew up in a Christian home, but that doesn’t mean I’ve always understood grace or what it means to be free in Jesus. I’m a perfectionist, and for most of my life my self-worth has been tangled up in stuff I can cross off my to-do list, which usually looks something like this: keep the house picked up, limit myself to one Diet Coke, spend special time with each of my kids, work out, pray, avoid sugar, read my Bible, read a chapter in a book about something important, call my mom—and so-on-and-so-forth, because even though I know salvation is free, I live like I need to earn it.

Of course, I can’t earn it because perfection is always out of reach. Like in a bad dream when the phone call won’t go through, or I can’t run fast enough, or no matter how hard I try, I can’t get home. Or find my clothes. Bad dreams are full of unreachable goals, but I experience the same thing when I’m awake. I set impossible standards for myself (and everyone else), and I’m forever falling short.

Enter a small Asian.

From the moment my adopted son and I met, nothing was as I expected. Max clearly preferred my husband, and worse, I didn’t feel a connection to him. Nothing between us felt natural or instinctive like it did with my biological kids, and it sent me spinning. I assumed I’d be amazing in our new adventure—I was an experienced mom who’d even risen to the challenge of autism with our third-born, and adopting an older child was our clear calling; and like any good perfectionist, I’m nothing if not obedient. Not to mention responsible and steady and self-controlled and loving and wise—or so I thought.

Turns out, when squeezed, I’m none of those things, because when my well-controlled home was disrupted, I got angry. When my little boy wasn’t loving, neither was I. And when I didn’t feel patient or compassionate or merciful toward my orphan, I was confused and ashamed—which made me resent my new life.

I cringe to admit any flaw, and a few years ago, I would’ve kept them a secret. I would’ve added something like be more awesome to my to-do list. I would’ve lived with tremendous guilt when I inevitably failed, and I would’ve feared other people’s opinions if the truth eked out. But seeing how far from perfect my heart and home actually are has forced me to face my wretchedness. And talking about my wretchedness has been the key to experiencing the freedom from perfectionism that Jesus holds outstretched.

Freedom to pour out my sin at the throne of grace, and to receive grace.

Freedom to get help from other Christians who have prayed for me, loved me unconditionally, kept me accountable, and celebrated my victories.

Freedom to accept my imperfections and, in turn, to depend wholly on my perfect Savior.

Freedom to grow Galatians 5 fruit—qualities I can’t produce or maintain without the work of the Holy Spirit in my heart.

Freedom to share my testimony without fear, allowing God to be glorified in my weakness.

And I’m happy to report that Max and I are falling in love, and that God has my perfectionism on the run. I don’t claim to be recovered. There are still days when my habitual sin rears its head and I find myself once again chasing impossible goals. But my expectations for myself have changed. My understanding of grace has changed. My ability to receive and give that grace—to myself and to my precious little boy—has changed. And my willingness to tell the truth about who I really am, and who Christ is making me, has changed.

And now life is a little bit closer to perfect.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. 2 Corinthians 12:9-10

Amanda Jenkins spent ten years in L.A. alongside her film-making husband surrounded by plastic surgery and high-falutin lifestyles, which is where she became convicted and inspired to write about her struggles and sin in Confessions of a Raging Perfectionist, released by Tyndale Publishing in May 2013. Today, she lives just outside of Chicago with her husband, Dallas, and their four young children. She’s also the daughter-in-law of Jerry B. Jenkins, author of the best-selling Left Behind Series, and drops his name in the publishing world as often as possible.

www.ra gingperfectionist.com

The Writing Journey | Tracie Peterson

I recently returned from a book tour trip that took me all over Minnesota. I have to say that while on this adventure I was blessed to meet hundreds of readers and hear their stories of how my writing has encouraged them.

One woman told me how the books had helped her through 160 days of her husband being in the hospital. Another told me how the books helped her through her depression. Yet another spoke of how the books helped her to forgive someone in her life who had wronged her. One woman told me that the books were such a blessing to her and helped her to draw closer to God. Someone else shared that they had walked away from God and family and that the message God gave them in one of my books helped to bring them back.

It always amazes me to know how God uses something I enjoy so much to touch the lives of other people. Then I stop and think about how other authors have done that for me. I have been an avid reader all of my life so there are a great many authors who have touched me and helped me to grow—far too many to name them all here. I’m sure you know what I’m saying, however. There are always books out there that we will remember for a lifetime—books that have made a deep impact on us—books that have changed our lives.

I doubt that any writer ever knows the full impact that their work has on the reader. It would probably terrify us if we did. I know for me, writing is often a huge responsibility that can be rather daunting. I want to encourage and be uplifting, but I also want to share hard truth and be authentic in my sharing. I want the stories to entertain the reader, but more than that, I want the stories to educate and encourage. I want to share honest insight into Biblical truth and to extend a glimpse of hope in Jesus to my reader.

It’s a labor of love to be sure, but it does cause me to take a step back and think long and hard about the person on the other end of my book – the reader. The journey I travel to create the book is only the tip of the iceberg. There is a journey that the book will take the reader on and hopefully that will be one which will leave them a better person for having taken it. My heart’s desire for you as a reader is that you will come away from your time spent in one of my books and find yourself closer to God, more deeply established in His Word and uplifted in spirit. I want you to have a good time – a fun and entertaining time with each of the stories. But when you complete your journey through one of my books, I don’t want you to say, “Wow, what a great writer she is!” Rather, I hope you will say, “Wow, what a great God He is!”

Tracie is the best-selling, award winning author of over 95 books. She is married to Jim and has 3 grown children. In her writing career Tracie has acted as managing editor over the Heartsong Presents bookline, taught at a variety of writer conferences and workshops, and has hosted writer retreats to offer encouragement and inspiration to fellow writers. Writing for Tracie is a ministry in which she hopes to reflect her deep, abiding love for God and encourage others to know Him better.

Tracie’s website: www.traciepeterson.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TraciePetersonAuthor

Additional blog on the 1st and 3rd Friday of the months – writespassage.blogspot.com

The Battle Inside | Denise Hunter

One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people.

“My son,” he said. “There is inside us all, a battle between two ‘wolves’. One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.

“The other wolf is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith.”

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf wins?”

The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”

This Native American legend could easily represent the Christian struggle between the flesh and the spirit.

We feed the fleshly wolf by: dwelling on sinful thoughts; reading books, watching movies, or listening music that draw us toward unChristlike things; seeking close companionship with unGodly people; entertaining a spirit of ungratefulness; focusing on self and selfish desires.

We feed the spiritual wolf by: spending time in God’s word; fostering relationships with Godly people; having a rich prayer life; reading books, watching movies, and listening to music that encourage a Godly lifestyle; striving to keep our thoughts pure, focusing on others instead of ourselves; having a spirit of gratitude.

Not only will we find ourselves living more abundantly by feeding the spiritual wolf and starving the fleshly one, but we’ll also be more joyful, more pleasant to be with, and be a better witness for Christ.

We’re always feeding one of the wolves. Which one are you feeding?

Denise Hunter lives in Indiana with her husband Kevin and their three sons. In 1996, Denise began her first book, a Christian romance novel, writing while her children napped. Two years later it was published, and she’s been writing ever since. Her books often contain a strong romantic element, and her husband Kevin says he provides all her romantic material, but Denise insists a good imagination helps too!

It Pays to Listen!

“I don’t have a lot of talents,” my mother often said, “but people tell me I’m a good friend. I think that’s because I listen.”

“Mom, if you’re a good listener, you don’t need a lot of other talents,” I assured her.

We both laughed—and agreed there’s a terminal shortage of good listeners in our society. People like to talk—mostly about themselves, their ideas, their opinions, their problems. And they want someone to listen to them. Who will that be, however, if everyone else wants to talk too?

It could be you. Or me. If we choose to make it so. Listening was always a challenge for me. I got into trouble as a kid for talking in class. I had much to say at home around the table. And I loved to hang on the phone with friends until my parents gave me that look that said, “Get off the phone or else…”

It wasn’t until much later in my life that I realized that listening is an act of intimacy, a selfless act, because it includes being there for another person, and allowing him or her to share heart, mind, and spirit without commentary, advice, or point of view.  It can also be a gift to one’s self. We might learn something of value from what the other has to say, though we rarely think of that ahead of time.

I remember a time when I was on the receiving end of this gift.  And it came from an unexpected source—my parents—the very ones who raised their eyebrows at times when I rambled on and on as a child and teen.

On a Saturday I stopped by the nursing home where they lived.  Both depended on others to help them with basic living tasks, to drive them to medical appointments, and to do small favors such as potting and watering the flowers on their terrace or playing a CD or tape of their favorite music, to help fill their long days.

I hurried into their room, all smiles, as I hugged and greeted them and began talking a mile a minute (as I’m known to do)!  I was on my way home from a family camp where I had spent a week with my oldest daughter, her husband, and their five children. I had one story after another to share with my parents regarding the events of the week.

Their eyes were bright with interest. My father, who rarely smiled (one of the side effects of Parkinson’s Disease) was actually grinning as I related funny incidents involving his great-grandchildren. Mother squeezed my hand repeatedly and tears welled in her eyes as I reminisced about similar vacations we had enjoyed as a family when I was growing up.

What listeners they were.  I felt as though I were the Queen of England holding court! The more they responded, the more I talked. Then suddenly I stopped and apologized. “I’m talking your ears off,” I said, laughing with embarrassment. “How about if we take a stroll outside? Dad, I’ll push you in the wheelchair and Mom can walk alongside. It’s a beautiful sunny day.”

My father raised his hand to stop me. “Oh no,” he said, “it’s such a treat to listen to you, I don’t want to waste a moment. Keep talking.” So I did—until I had to leave about half an hour later.

Here was a gift so lovely, I cried as I said good-bye. My father, bound to a wheelchair, unable to feed himself, and my mother, no longer able to speak due to a stroke, could still squeeze the moments they had with me.  Sixty minutes or more squeezed to the last drop of laughter and love.

Every talker needs a good listener. My parents were certainly that for me on this special Saturday. I had set out to bring them a few moments of joy, and received in return, a heart full of happiness.

In the storm, Love’s calling names | Rhonda Schrock

The shouts come drifting across the field. The sun shines bright, and the clouds–oh, those clouds. Fluffy and white, they’re strewn across the sky like so many balls of cotton.

The breeze, it’s fresh, and the birds, they sing as I’m walking the road in all of spring’s glory. That sky. That sun. The song of the birds, and those shouts. . .

Glancing across the fields as I walk, I can see the school from here. That beautiful, wonderfully unblemished roof line. The sledding hill that rises there to the back. And like music come the cries of children; healthy, alive.

It’s recess time.

Right there on my quiet country road, I see it. Just beneath an angry sky; dark, whirling clouds portending doom. Chaos, death is in the air. Bricks, boards, mortar ripped and flung, roof line no longer unblemished.

When the storm passes by, menacing clouds now blown past, I hear a different kind of sound. No more the happy shouts of children tinkling sweet over fresh-plowed ground. Now, I hear the voice of terror. Of pain. Of fear and confusion. It’s names, precious names that I hear.

Through bullhorns and megaphones. Through hands cupped ’round lips. With heads flung to sky and full-throated cries, it’s Love calling names.

Looking at our whole, unbroken elementary school in the full light of the sun, I can hardly bear it. Where my child plays, running, laughing, fully alive, another mother’s found death. Where my blue-eyed boy writes letters, hears stories, works numbers, another child’s been buried. And Love–oh, the Love that moved rubble; the Love that went calling…

What on earth do we do when it’s hell that rains down? When the sky opens up and the world, it explodes? When the ground below trembles and it all falls apart? Where’s heaven? Where’s God? How’s that love?

Outdoors this morning, chill breeze blowing and birds tweeting cheer, I thought of that walk. Thought of the storms. Remembered the loss. And this is what came: Why do we live as though dying were the worst that could happen? What makes us cling to this life down here, forgetting the life that’s to come?

And then this: What if living without living is worse yet than that? And what if death, that’s the way to a life that’s worth living? Death to self, death to sin, death to all that’s not Him? What if that?

Today, I’m thinking this—that choosing to die while alive is the secret. That real, forever, unquenchable life, that’s what comes. And I’m thinking this, too; that in every storm and in all kinds of weather, Love calls.

When hell opens up and the world, it explodes. When the ground trembles and shakes and it all falls apart, Love calls.

Through all of the rubble, Love’s looking, inviting. Love’s calling, first to death, then surely to life. Maybe this—this—is what the storm speaks, that Love’s calling, and Love knows your name.

And Love’s name is Jesus, the Christ, He of Nazareth. Rest assured, my friend, that He knows what’s yours.

Rhonda Schrock lives in Northern Indiana with her husband and 4 sons, ages 22 to 6. By day, she is a telecommuting medical transcriptionist. In the early morning hours, she flees to a local coffee shop where she pens “Grounds for Insanity,” a weekly column that appears in The Goshen News. She is an occasional guest columnist in The Hutch News. She’s also blogged professionally for her son’s school of choice, Bethel College, in addition to humor and parenting blogs. She is a writer and editor for the magazine, “Cooking & Such: Adventures in Plain Living.” She survives and thrives on prayer, mochas, and books. Her new home in cyberspace is at http://RhondaSchrock.com.

Focus on the Woman You Are Meant to Be: Becoming a Proverbs 31 Woman

Photograph I took of woman in Zambia who worked diligently to provide for her family and neighbors. Copyright Sarah Wauterlek Photography

#1 Proverbs 31: 25  “She is clothed with strength and dignity; She can laugh at the days to come.”

Whenever you need direction in your life or a reminder of the woman God wants you to be, read Proverbs 31. It describes a confident, Godly, wise, hard working, faithful, generous, and fearless woman. She is confident, not in an arrogant or prideful way, but in a way that demonstrates her trust in God. She can laugh at the days to come because she knows that God will provide and she relies on Him and not on anything or anyone in this world above Him. God guides her steps and as a result she is regarded with dignity. Don’t you want to be her? Visualize yourself this way and take the steps to become her. Proverbs 31 is meant to describe you.

Sometimes as women, focusing too much on beauty or material items sidetracks us. Billions of dollars are spent to encourage us to do so. Although it is fine to enjoy dressing up, even the Proverbs 31 woman clothes her family well, our focus should not be on such things. We are to extend our hands to the poor and see that all we do is beneficial. A Proverbs 31 woman does not stand by meekly. She takes a hold of her resources, connections, and the day before her. She sees to it that all she does is profitable. She is wise and she is business savvy. She does not idly stand by. She values the days and the things that God gives her. She then works hard to multiply them.

I pray often that I would be a Proverbs 31 woman. Whenever I need a reminder of the woman I am meant to be, the woman that only God can make of me, I read it. I picture the woman who is described and I see her standing with her head tall because of her trust in the Lord. She cannot be shaken because she has her priorities right and for this, she is blessed. I try to envision myself as this woman. I envision what it would look like to be a woman of this level of strength and dignity and then I pray. I pray and I read Proverbs 31 time and again. I encourage you to do the same. May God bless you and may you live life well for Him.

 

 

Trustworthiness

Trust is a valuable commodity in all relationships. The Proverbs 31 Woman is especially attuned to this fact. Trustworthiness manifests itself in many ways. It enriches, comforts, and protects.

How can wives be trustworthy?

Commitment to God

She participates in Bible study, daily quiet time, and prayer. She has a deep dependence on the Lord for all things and in all circumstances. She allows God to lead her regardless of her feelings, the pressure of the world, and the suggestions of others.

Commitment to the marriage

She holds true to her marriage vows to love, honor, and obey. She’s not a doormat but a helpmate. She allows her husband to lead the family. She cares for herself, to be healthy and desirable. Who doesn’t want a “You look great, Baby!” now and again from the hubby?

Commitment to the family

The good of the family comes before her individual pursuits. Her children and others can trust her because she’s proven herself trustworthy by always being there for her children, parents, and in-laws. Yes, her in-laws too!

Most importantly, she knows she cannot do it alone. She needs the guidance, strength, and love of Jesus. He said, “Trust in God; trust also in me.” John 14:1b He is her role model for trustworthiness.

Her husband can trust her, and she will greatly enrich his life.

Proverbs 31:11

 

Why Would I Want To Be Her?

 

Copyright (c) 123RF Stock Photos

I was already a married woman when I was introduced to the Proverbs 31 Woman. I thought that she was an unattainable standard. How in the world did anyone think they could do and be all that this woman was? No thank you I said and dismissed it, for a time.

As I got older and began to study the Bible, I revisited this famous woman. This time I saw value in her and wanted to be just like her. I wanted my kids to “rise up and call me blessed” (v28). I wanted my husband to “praise me” (v28) and “have full confidence in me” (v11). Let me tell you an important fact about myself. Okay, several facts. I am task-oriented and competitive. When I set my mind to something, I intend to accomplish it. Period. Got all that down? So, fully energized and armed with a challenge, I tried to become the Proverbs 31 Woman using my own strength and resources. Can you guess how that turned out?

I failed. At first I thought it was the competitiveness in me that made me fail miserably. Now I believe it was God, teaching me a lesson. It would have been great if I had learned it that time. But no. I guess in some ways it was a good thing because I’d not be writing this otherwise. But, for my family and myself, it would have been great if I had listened and perceived what God was trying to say. Instead, every time I would read that particular proverb, I’d try, once again, to be her. Each time I tried to use my own strength and resources. And each time I would fail, miserably. It’s a wonder my husband didn’t run in the opposite direction!

Recently I circled back around the P31 camp to see if she was still there. Yep, she was still there. She was still an unattainable goal for me. But then, I realized some key things. First, nowhere in verses 10- 31 does it say that she did all these things in one day or even at the same time in her life. Some she probably did. But there are some that could feasibly have occurred at different times in her life. Second, there is a key verse that provides the secret to this well-known woman. Look at verse 30. It says she “fears the Lord”. So God was right there in her life directing her. That was a turning point for me. Such a simple thing. But somehow I had been blinded to it all this time. But now my eyes were wide open and I was ready to get at it.

Some of you may be wondering what is so special about this Proverbs 31 Woman. Why should you want to be like her? Why do I want to be like her? Well let’s sit down right on Proverbs 31:10. It says, “A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies.” What a description! So what is noble character? I think it means demonstrating loyalty, generosity, courage and a sense of honor. What would that look like for you and me? We could start with being loyal to our family and friends by supporting then during difficult times, even if the sacrifice is great. We’d be generous with our money and our time. Stepping out in faith and being courageous about doing that thing we know God is asking us to do would be part of the picture as well. Finally we can display a sense of honor by never putting ourselves in a situation that can be interpreted as immoral or sinful.

Some of you may be saying, Mari, I can’t do all that. From my own experience I can say “Yes you can.” You can do it if you ask God to help you. And then you have to trust Him. Period. It’s a three step plan. Ask. Believe. Act. Simple huh? A more fleshed out version would be: Ask in prayer. Believe God will empower you. Act in faith.

Still simple. You can do this. We can be just like her

The Proverbs 31 Woman Nobody Talks About

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Does guilt cut you like a knife when you read “A wife of noble character who can find?”  If you’re like me and you’ve ever read the last chapter of Proverbs, you’ve probably felt like you can’t measure up to the standard set by the Proverbs 31 woman. Here’s a woman who gets up before dawn, makes her own clothes, prepares food for her family and servants, runs a successful business, invests her resources, manages property and never, ever takes time out for herself.

What kind of mutant super human super woman is this?

Meanwhile, her lazy husband sits at the city gate and drinks beer with his buddies, plays poker till dawn, and watches football in his jammies. (Huh?)

Something is seriously wrong with this picture.

But contrary to what you might think, this man isn’t living it up and ignoring the Mrs. while she slaves away at home; instead, this man is lifting her up and praising the Mrs. while she paves the way at home! The behavior of his awesome and—dare I say it—progressive wife elevates the entire family.

And this is the realization that struck me tonight as I re-read Proverbs 31 for what has to be the hundredth time in my life.

In addition to shouldering the bulk of the responsibility at home, the Proverbs 31 woman is also the face of the family in town. For those of you that have ever thought that your work at home isn’t valuable, that you are not making a difference, or that the things you do don’t matter, think again.

In this, the last chapter of this book of wisdom, God clearly validates your life path. Want to be Holly Homemaker? Awesome. God loves that. Want to be Career Claire? Fabulous. You can do it. Want to be Missionary Mary? Nothing finer. Change the world. Here, God confirms that nothing is beyond your capability or capacity or reach.

Women often moan about being able to do it all and be it all and here God cheers, “You are all that—and more.”  And this might be controversial, but there’s a whole bunch of Christians that think women just need to stay home and focus on raising their children. But in this passage I am suddenly awash in a brave new world that gives me the freedom to be exactly who God created me to be.  God doesn’t want us to be pansies in some male dominated fantasy world. He validates our worth and confirms what women throughout the centuries have secretly longed for—to do it all, have it all, and above all—maybe even garner a little recognition in the process.

A little “Well done, my good and faithful servant,” if you will.

The Proverbs 31 husband might be respected at the city gate, but his wife is the one who is praised.

I Hate Summer

I hate summer.

Really.

I hate the taste of watermelon, the feel of chlorine stained hair, and the smell of sweaty bodies. I hate sand in my house, 100° heat and hearing birds at 5:AM. I hate whiny kids, spoiled kids, sticky kids, and kids who can’t play by themselves. I hate the hours of unstructured time. I hate the extra hours of sunlight. Days are so long they stretch into one another and there is no excuse to cozy up for the night with a good book. I hate light summer non-cooking, everything seems to be a salad. I am waiting for sweater weather, a good hard freeze, and a crisp day. I am waiting for winter.

Winter is my season. I love all the trappings of it: the heavy clothes, the heavy food, and deep heavy colors. Shoes and socks trap my feet, hats hide my ears and the aromas of soup fill my nose. I am finally comfortable in my own skin again. It’s time to stop comparing tan lines, flat tummies and vacation photos. It’s time to put away the bikes, sunscreen, and beach towels. At last I can light a fire and have a cup of hot tea.

It has taken me years to discover, admit, and feel content saying: I hate summer and love winter. It’s not the norm as I see it. Everyone loves summer. Right? Maybe. It has also taken me years to discover, admit, and feel content saying: I am a Christian. Sometimes I fake liking summer as when everyone is looking forward to the end of the school year and all I can think is, “I’m really going to miss this.” Sometimes I fake it for Christ too and that’s far worse.

I don’t mean that I offer service with a grumble. I mean the times I deny entirely. The moments when tested I don’t claim to be a Christian. The times I don’t seize the day and talk about how Christ is alive in me and leading my life. The good thing is I can act out my faith while I am learning to be bold about talking about my Christianity. It’s easier for me to do good works than to talk about them. (And doing good works in the winter is the best time of all!)