Margaret McSweeney's Blog, page 32

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NIBBLED

Last year on our family vacation we went to the Aquarium. As I carried my eighteen-month-old grandson from tank to tank, listening to his “wows”, “whoas”, and “yeas”, my awe and appreciation of sea life was reawakened. The brilliant color, the intricate design that God displays in a creature so simple as a fish is breathtaking. “The greatest fashion designers in all the world are not so original, they have only copied what they see in God’s underwater fashion show,” I thought to

myself. It is impossible to duplicate such beauty.

A favorite of Isaac’s was the Touch Tank. The young man tending the tank lifted not-so-pretty sea urchins, hermit crabs, horseshoe crabs, flounder, turtles, snails, spider crabs, whelk and other critters. He shared interesting facts about each one as he offered the opportunity to touch them.

Most fascinating was the sea star, or more commonly, the starfish. When I touched it, I was surprised to discover it was not hard, but soft. Even more amazing is the life of a starfish. This particular one had a leg that was just a nubbin in comparison to the other four legs. The attendant explained that starfish often lose a leg through injury or because other fish nibble on them. It’s their built-in defense system. If a predator attacks, they can drop an arm and get away. Not to worry, they have the capability of growing an entirely new limb! In fact, they are able to totally reproduce themselves.

It takes nearly a year for a sea star to grow a new arm. I’m picturing this as a time away, a period of life where they must not risk being exposed to predators and nibblers. They need time to heal, to regain their strength, to become whole again.

Sometimes we allow others to nibble away at us more than we ought. Predators of unhealthy relationships, lack of appropriate boundaries, or just the natural succession of life and living and giving of ourselves leaves us one limb short. It’s the very reason that God ordained, from the very beginning, a Sabbath-rest for all of creation. The land, the sea, you and me: He designed us with this in mind, a cyclical time set aside for renewal and regeneration.

“There remains, then, a Sabbath-rest for the people of God; for anyone who enters God’s rest also rests from their work, just as God did from his. Let us, therefore, make every effort to enter that rest, so that no one will perish… (Hebrews 4:9-11NIV).”

Are you feeling nibbled? Pulled in different directions? Preyed upon?

•Identify your predators.

•Determine how you will alter your life to avoid attacks on your esteem, your time, your health.

•Pull away regularly for a Sabbath-rest, to heal, grow new limbs, rest and renew your trust in the Lord.

•Seek counseling to sort out deeper wounds that have left you vulnerable, needy, over-extended.

How amazing is our God? So amazing that the lesson that I learned at the Touch Tank was reiterated in the book I chose to read the following week. In Gifts From the Sea, Anne Morrow Lindbergh reflects on our need to occasionally pull away from demanding lifestyles and relationships.

“It is as if in parting, one did actually lose an arm. And then, like the starfish, one grows it anew; one is whole again, complete…more whole, even, than before, when the other people had pieces of one.”

Teaching Your Child to Pray at Mealtime

Have you ever found your family halfway through dinner only to have a child ask, “Did we pray?” This is a clear sign that the grace was far from memorable . . . yet it should be the most important part of the meal! Job 23:12 says, “I have treasured the words of [God’s] mouth more than my daily bread.”

Jesus (our perfect example) made mealtime prayer a priority. When He was feeding the multitudes, He “gave thanks and broke the loaves” (Matthew 14:19).

And, for His final meal on earth, Jesus “took bread, gave thanks and broke it” (Luke 22:19). Mealtime prayer is something families need to take seriously too!

I know, it can be challenging to make prayer exciting every meal. (After all, mealtime comes around three times a day.) Yet it is possible to get your family’s souls nourished at the same time their bodies are getting fed.

The Purpose of Mealtime Prayer

We pray at meals because the Bible tells us to, because God is good, and because He is the source of everything. Also, by thanking God for our food, we are pointing our children to the Provider.

While the most important aspect of mealtime prayer is thanking God, the example of praying parents is foundational to a child’s faith. The more your family prays together, the better they’ll become at praying.

Mealtime is one of the best places for children to practice praying.

Start by having your child repeat your prayer. As you do this, set the example of praying for the food in a simple manner.

Teach children that this is not the time to pray for personal or family concerns (unless asked to).

After the child is comfortable with repeating your prayer, ask him to pray alone.

When the child is comfortable praying with your family, approach him or her about praying in front of company.

What You Don’t Do

Also, what parents do (or don’t do) during mealtime prayer says a lot. For example, are you hesitant to pray when company is visiting or when your family is eating out? If so, your child will pick up those same insecurities. In the same manner, if you joyfully praise God for His provisions, your children will follow in your footsteps.

The family mealtime plays a far more important role than just nourishing bodies. It creates companions. (Did you know the word “companions” comes from French and Latin words meaning “those who eat bread together”?) Together-time prayer provides an excellent forum for imparting family values and strengthening family bonds.

Does your family have a special mealtime prayer ritual? I’d love to hear!

Anything Boys Can Do…(Not Exactly!)

You know what I love about Mother’s Day? I love that there’s a day of the year when we actually celebrate moms. We don’t differentiate between working moms, stay-at-home moms, between teen moms and single moms, between step-moms and moms-in-law. If you’re a mom, this day is for you.

On Mother’s Day we don’t have to talk about balancing work and family. No one argues about the virtues or shortcomings of attachment parenting or whether or how long is too long to breastfeed your babies. Instead, we all call our moms and those mother-figures in our lives who have shaped who we are and who sacrificed some of themselves and we just say, “Thank you. Thank you for being who you are. Thank you for being my mom.”

I wish every day was Mother’s Day.

I wish that people could spend less time arguing about equality and more time exercising their responsibility. I often wonder why women want to do “everything boys can do” when what we do is uniquely female. Why would I even want to be anything but what God uniquely created me to be?  I want to figure out how to be the best at that.

How can I model for my daughters what it looks like to be different yet equal? Every girl has the responsibility to live up to her inherent, God-given value. To be uniquely female just means that you get to be uniquely you. You get to experience empathy, intuition, and language in ways that are different from men. You get to show love and compassion in the way that only you know how to do.

Mother’s Day isn’t just about having kids. For all of you who either are a mom or have a mom, this day is for you.

Because you’re you.

You’ve been uniquely created by God for a purpose, and I promise it’s not so you can be like anybody else on the planet. Stop comparing yourself to other moms and by golly, stop comparing yourself to men. You are exactly who you’re supposed to be.

And you’re already the best.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Ever Had One of Those Days?

I stormed through the door with David in one hand and my frustrations in the other.

“I just want one hour to myself!” I shouted as I made my less than gracious entrance.

Unfortunately, my husband was working from home that day and witnessed my 30-year old temper tantrum. My 8-month old son was being extremely clinging and fussy. If I left him for one second, he started to whine and moan. . .and so did I.

It was only 10 in the morning and already I felt trapped. Trapped in my own home. Trapped in my role as a mother. Trapped behind the incessant needs and demands of my baby. The thoughts whirled inside like a tornado, threatening and vicious. . .I can never do what I want to do. Ever. For the next 20 plus years my life revolves around him. Humph.

After my mini breakdown that day, I realized that my son was cutting his front two teeth. That next morning I felt the hard and pointy pieces of bone poking through his tender gums. I felt horrible. Horrible because I had no grace, no patience for him. Horrible because I must be the most selfish mother in the world.

Ah, those days. The clingy days. The crabby days. The fussy days. The frustrating days. The teething days. We all have them. But we cannot let those days dictate and define us. This too shall pass.

It’s all too easy to forget on those days when we feel done with motherhood, to be thankful.

Thankfulness takes us out of the prison of our self-centered lives and into the wide-open spaces of his grace.

Thankfulness releases us from our shortsighted perspective to see things from the heights of heaven.

Thankfulness realizes that life. is. enough. We are content just to be. To be a mother. To be a wife. To be His beloved.

Later that week, I was shaken by some news I shouldn’t have seen on Facebook. A couple’s 15-month old baby died in her sleep. I sat breathless on my bed. Images of my ungrateful land ungracious attitude earlier in the week flashed through my mind, as I cried out for this couple I’d never met. Indeed this is every parent’s nightmare.

In that moment, a new Holy Spirit resolve came welling up from inside me. More than one hour to myself, I needed to ask God for supernatural thankfulness in every circumstance. That I would truly see the child I hold in my as the most tangible, priceless, miraculous gift from God I could ever receive.

My son is a blessing straight from His heart to my husband and me. There is nothing, I repeat to myself today, there is NOTHING worth getting upset about…even on those days.

No matter how dark those days may be, I can release my frustrations at the foot of His cross and embrace thankfulness and my baby boy with both arms.  

How can you put thankfulness into action today?

JOYN INDIA: Using Fashion to Create Better Lives

What is JOYN?

JOYN takes artisans living in poverty and crashes them together with the thriving fashion world. Each step of our process is done by hand, creating more jobs — creating more joy and connecting more artisans with YOU.

The Story: 

JOYN was birthed in the hearts of Melody and David Murray over 13 years ago. (Read Melody’s recent ‘Mother of Pearl’ post for more about her.) Since they met in 1998, they both had a growing passion to live and work among individuals living in poverty. After spending a summer working in an orphanage in Uganda in 1999, the Murrays’ dreams became more clear. The orphans had a home, had food, had clothing, but they had no future. They lacked hope. They lacked purpose. They lacked opportunity. After that experience, the Murrays set out to find sustainable solutions to the needs of those living in the majority world. They spent 10 years obtaining degrees, certifications and experience in order to go back to those in poverty with real solutions.

In June 2010, an opportunity arose to work with a small needy community in the Himalayas, so David and Melody and their 2 young boys packed their bags and moved to Rajpur, North India. David has followed his dreams of creating sustainable livelihood and being an agent of change in the lives of young men(www.dehradunguitars.com). Mel has grown JOYN, fulfilling her passion to connect artisans with western markets. They now have a diverse and growing team of Americans, Australians, Indians, Tibetans and Nepalis working together to create a community that strives to take care of each other and bring opportunity to as many as they can.

How YOU can help spread the story:

Homeshows – Throw a JOYN party in your home. If you are interested please get in touch with us.

Internships – JOYN is always looking to add the write individuals to our team. Again, if you are seriously interested in what JOYN is doing and have skills to add to our efforts, please get in touch with us.

Campus Reps – Would you be willing to represent JOYN on your high school or college campus? We’d love to tell you more.

Follow our Blog – Stay near to our story as we grow and learn of other opportunities to get involved here.

JOYNers – We currently have a team of JOYN reps throughout the US that share our story with local Retail partners. We are always looking to expand.

If you are interested in any of the above, please contact JOYN

Find out more about JOYN on their website and shop online

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***Due to shipping costs, contest open to US only. Winner will be announced Friday, May 31.*** 

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Redeeming Pizza

We had a rough day yesterday. With the end of the school year rapidly nearing, deadlines pile up, for students and teachers alike. There are tests to take, grades to give, meetings to attend, summers to plan and, in short, too much to get done in any given day. So this is the time of year when fuses and short and patience levels low. After a day of battling with my class more than usual, bothered by the behaviour difficulties I’ve been blessed to not struggle with up to this point, I came to the end of the day wondering what good had come of it. And what bothered me most was that I felt I had failed my students, reacting poorly and responding impatiently in ways that only worsened matters.

In the closing moments of the day, I began my usual winding down activity, in which I write my catch phrase on the board and have the students think about it, then come up and add their own reactions. Instead of my usually cheery alliteration, however, I wrote that it was “Making-Up Monday.” I explained that we all had work to do, and that I wanted them to think about people they may need to “make up” with. I, in turn, wanted to make up with them. I apologized for being impatient with them. And I added that I would like to promise that I would never again lose my temper . . . but that I knew I couldn’t truthfully promise such a thing. Instead, I wanted them to know that I would try to do a better job in the future or reacting well.

Then along came a Tuesday. It was a better day, in many ways, but still a bit of a rough road. I still was not as patient as I had hoped to be. But at least today we had some of our usual bright, goofy moments in the midst of it. So at the end of the day I announced that it was a “Tuesday Tries” day. I then asked them what, knowing their proper grammar, was wrong with what I had written. One of them noticed that “tries” should have been a plural “trys” and not the verb. I said that he was right, but that I had actually intended to write it in that “incorrect” way. See, instead of meaning that it was the noun form of the word “try,” I had in my mind that, as a whole, Tuesday was trying. Trying to be a better day. The students had been trying to listen better. I had been trying to be more patient. We had work to do yet, but we were trying. As they came up to add their thoughts to the whiteboard, I announced that we had one more activity to go in the day.

During math that morning, the hands on activity for our fractions lesson had been a set of puzzle-like pizza pieces, each labeled with the fraction represented, and each with a different realistic pizza variety design. They had been clearly enamored with the set, excited about the types of pizza and eagerly talking about which was their favorite. We had not had time for each of them to play with the pieces that morning, though—only enough for me to use them as demonstrations in front of the whole class.

Now, as our closing activity, I told them they could each come to the back table and make their own pizza: whatever they felt like, in the mood they were in. As I watched them create, and I gave each one a name: “Ah, Celine, I see that you are ‘pepper-shroom-oliv-eroni’ today” and similar affirmations, I realized that I had just stumbled into an oddly meaningful activity. Somehow, in letting their creative juices run free, in such a mundane way, the students were able to wind down from the day in a redeeming, and affirming way. And no less than these youngsters, I was uplifted and encouraged by the moment.

How to Dissolve a Worrywart

Have you ever been secretly scared that if you stop worrying, the very thing you’re afraid might happen most definitely will? That somehow the energy generated from your fretting is the force field keeping the dreaded outcome at bay, and if you lower the force field for even one minute . . . Blam. Annihilation. Devastation. The end of the world as you know it.

If you’re like me and the majority of women, I’ll bet you’re picking up exactly what I’m putting down right now.

Yep, worry makes the average woman’s world go round. We’ve watched our mothers and grandmothers worry themselves into a tizzy, and we’ve learned to do the very same. Fretting and stewing and fussing seem perfectly normal because we’re so used to it. We’ve fooled ourselves into thinking we’re doing the responsible thing by agonizing over our dilemmas. Worry is a type of fear that loves to masquerade as responsibility. By dwelling on our troubles, we think we’ll somehow become enlightened with magical answers that will change inevitable outcomes.

Is there any other way to intimately care about our family and friends besides obsessing over their problems?

Well, actually there is. “Don’t worry about anything. Instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done,” Phil. 4:6 (NLT).

Check out these simple-to-implement solutions for dissolving worrywarts:

Postpone worry. Set aside 15 minutes a day as your Designated Worry Time (DWT). Then, whenever a niggling fret tries to worm into your brain during the day or night, jot it down. Then forget about it until your DWT.
Morph worry into prayer. Fretting is not productive. Prayer is. Prayer is the nerve that innervates the hand of God. When you do get to your DWT, turn each problem into a prayer request and turn it over to the One who can actually do something about it.
Become a busybody. When you realize you’re beginning to worry about something, redirect your thoughts by giving your brain – and body – something else to do. Action defuses anxiety. Get your hands busy and your mind will follow.
Go to your happy place. Another gem for worry-redirection, especially late at night when your whirling mind won’t let you relax. Imagine that you’re in the special place that brings you calmness and happiness . . . maybe the warm surf of a favorite beach, or a lovely mountain trail. Ahh. Feel the anxiety melt away.
Rest in the Word. Another great worry-buster for restless nights when you’re more uptight than a twisted thong. Reflecting on a favorite scripture brings peace to your soul. Say it aloud then let it roll through your mind over and over until you can think of nothing else.
Perform emotional triage. Sort your nagging concerns into two piles: those with outcomes over which you have no control, and those that are potentially solvable. Give the first pile to the Lord, turn your back on it, and focus on the solvable problems. Once you come up with an action plan and begin seeing results, your worry will diminish.

You know, worry is the result of putting our faith in the wrong place – in ourselves (instead of Papa God) to figure it all out, maintain control, and provide protection from what might harm us.

We don’t have to be worrywarts. Our loving Father really will take care of us if we just let go of our worries and trust Him. Things may not always turn out the way we want, but they’ll always turn out the way He wants.

More about defeating fear in Debora’s new book, Fear, Faith, and a Fistful of Chocolate (Barbour Books). Excerpts, reviews, and more at www.DeboraCoty.com

What the Water Heater Taught Me About Love

The water runs stone cold from the faucet. My daughter can’t fill the bathtub. I can’t do the dishes. (A disappointment for one—a cause of celebration for the other.)

Matt says, I bet the pilot light is out.

He’s lying down on the cement by the hot water heater. Yup. The pilot’s out.

He tells me to go try turning on the gas stove.

It works! I yell, and he says the gas supply isn’t the problem, then.

So I bring the matches, and he follows the steps to light the pilot. Soon we hear the crackling sound of water heating.

I ask why the hot water heater would be working fine for months and then all of a sudden the pilot light would go out. He tells me sometimes there’s a strong backdraft of air that puts it out.

Sometimes we’re going along in marriage just fine, and then that man of our says something that hits in a tender spot, or he’s been too busy to listen, or financial stress causes a blow-up disagreement . . .

Backdraft.

Lighting the fire again requires getting down on the knees and asking God to strike a match to my heart. There’s nothing wrong with the source of love. I just need the flame. I can’t maintain the heat of love by myself.

“We know and rely on the love God has for us.  God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in him.”  (1 John 4:16)

We rely on the love of God to keep the heat in our marriage.

Has your love toward your husband grown stone cold? Has some backdraft of annoyance or hurtful words or failure to keep a promise swept in and put out the flame?

Get down low on your knees and check the pilot light.

Time Began in a Garden

Then God said, “Let the land produce vegetation: seed-bearing plants and trees on the land that bear fruit with seed in it, according to their various kinds.” And it was so. The land produced vegetation: plants bearing seed according to their kinds and trees bearing fruit with seed in it according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good (Genesis 2:11-12).

Spring is here! Watching the brown of winter suddenly turn pastel fills me a longing to be outside. The pale green of tree buds and the many hues of blossoms take my breath away. Watching tulips and hyacinth burst forth from the dormant garden spurs me on to begin planning my own garden. It’s especially poignant this year with the late spring in Minnesota, with snow banks still melting!

I have a small kitchen garden with raised beds on the south side of the house. Each spring I carefully plan what herbs, vegetables, and flowers will be planted. Many are old standbys, green beans, peas, carrots, and tomatoes. Each year I choose a few new varieties of seeds and plants. The problems of the world melt away when I’m digging in the dirt, watering plants, and harvesting vegetables.

My boys used to spend a lot of time with me in the garden. They each had their own raised bed to grow whatever they chose. Their excitement was contagious as tiny seeds would send up shoots, grow flowers, and then fruit. Our time in the garden was sweet. As teenagers, they still help me but are much more interested in the final product on the table! The best thing grown in the garden has been the memories, washing little muddy hands, eating tomatoes warmed by the sun, picking sweet strawberries.

The old adage, “Time began in a garden” is perhaps why so many of us, young and old alike, are drawn to gardens. Part of us longs for the perfection of God’s creation prior to the Fall. I wonder too, if many of us are not gardening enthusiasts because this was the first ever job description for humans. Adam was placed in the Garden of Eden to tend it. (Genesis 2:8,15)

I cannot wait to spend time in my little garden, planting, pruning, and even weeding. Do you like to dig in the dirt? If so, what will you be planting this spring and what memories would you like to make?