Getting what you want won’t get you what you want

Last night in a moment of self-awareness I decided to scroll through my Instagram. Now normally I turn to Instagram to dull any flashes of self-awareness–I find it to be a pleasant and effective distraction from any nudges towards personal growth. But in this case, instead of flicking through my feed, I looked through my own posts, the beautiful highlights of my life, to remind myself how much I love it.

I did it because I’d realised that I’d gotten stuck briefly into a mindset that just focussed on the things I didn’t like about the stage of life I’m in – I was viewing everything through a narrative of constraint: the things I can’t do because of the little children I have, the freedom I don’t have to determine my own schedule etc etc. If you’ve been there, I bet it’s familiar.

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“Flesh of my flesh!”: Seeing yourself in the other

Often my academic theological work can seem (note the emphasis) kind of, well, useless. When you’re spending your days speculating about the future resurrection, you’re quite open to the accusation of being “so heavenly minded that you’re of no earthly use”. And I’m the first to admit that it’s a luxury to live in a society where this kind of work can be deemed “work”. But often the insights are profound and meaningful for everyday human life. So I’m pushing pause on my work this morning, to share this thought prompted by Bernd Wannenwetsch’s writing.*

In Genesis 2, when Adam first meets Eve, he joyously cries

“This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called ‘woman,’ for she was taken out of man.”
Genesis 2:23

While he doesn’t look so thrilled about it here, no one seemed to be very happy about anything in Byzantine art. They all had a serious case of resting bitchy face, God included.

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The season sets the standard

I am terrible at being a sick person.

It’s not that I’m an awful patient, with a little bell at my bedside to communicate my constant requests for hot lemon drinks and more tissues (honestly, I prefer to be left alone). It’s more that I have a hard time of letting myself be sick.

Instead, I tend to try my best to just keep going at the normal pace and get the things done. Although inevitably I don’t get the things done very well, I’m grouchy, and occasionally the weariness means I do some very silly things – for example, this week I accidentally stuck my fingers in the ceiling fan while leaning out from the stairs to gesture at my mother. Yes, it hurt; no, I did not chop my fingers off (the kids were surprised).

Why not just snuggle up in bed and let the world pass me by until I’m better? Well, four kids… enough said. But that’s just a cover, really the issue is that I struggle to switch to the mode of sick person.

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When God isn’t who you thought He was.

Some mornings over breakfast the girls and I look at my phone together. There are two types of things we look at: it’s either that week’s celebrity best & worst dressed (don’t judge me), OR it’s bible study… maybe they balance each other out?

The bible reading app I’m currently using, Read Scripture, occasionally has videos that go with it. While they’re certainly not aimed at kids, they are a MOVING IMAGE, and therefore my children must each watch them in turn.

A couple of weeks ago I was starting the book of Mark, and the overview video hit home as it explained the disciples’ confusion around who Jesus was. Yes he’s the Messiah, they got that, but the Messiah they were expecting was a victorious military leader who would set them free from Roman oppression. However, the Messiah they got was the Suffering Servant of Isaiah 53, and that just did not compute.

Sometimes the God you get is different to the God you were expecting, because sometimes God just isn’t who you thought he was.

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God breastfeeds?

Well, not literally. But as I’ve said earlier, all language about God has got to be metaphorical. We just can’t get our head or our words around all of who He is, so we describe Him by coming at Him from different directions, each new perspective offering a metaphor that somehow all adds up to show a better bigger picture of who He is.

And breastfeeding is one of those metaphors.

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How to manage a million tasks

OK, I can’t promise you that, but I have got a principle that can help.

If your home is anything like mine, there are a million little jobs that need doing, and they just keep on coming. We can try and manage all that by just chipping away at them here and there, multi-tasking, squeezing in jobs wherever we can… but that’s exhausting.

Multi-tasking is a myth by the way – it doesn’t make you more productive, it just makes you feel more productive. Really you’re constantly switching between tasks, and all that switching takes mental time, and a lot of mental energy. (Not convinced? Read more here or here.)

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What a friend we have in Jesus

All our sins and griefs to bear! / What a privilege to carry / Everything to God in prayer!

Are you singing along in your head?

The old hymn talks about the friendship of Jesus in the solace he provides, the comfort in trials, and the courage in temptations. But this year I’ve been thinking more about what the friendship of Jesus might involve by reflecting on what my exclusively human friends are like.

There are a whole pile of images of God in the bible that help us understand what God is like. Because, let’s be honest, He’s pretty hard to get our heads around. So these images function as metaphors to help us understand the transcendent and the immanent aspects of God’s character.

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In defence of napping

Napping seems to be defensible only if you’re an infant, a cat, or a nana. But I am a big fan.

Partly it’s a pragmatic embrace of the reality that while I am good at getting up early, I’m not very good at going to bed early. Add to that the broken sleep that four children inevitably brings, and I often find myself needing a nap during the day. If I don’t take a nap, that nap is going to force itself on me when I sit back down at my desk after lunch.

Sometimes we’re physically weary, and sometimes it’s a weariness of the soul. I love how in 1 Kings 19 when the prophet Elijah has just had enough of it all God doesn’t tell him to pray, to push through; the instruction and the provision is to eat, then sleep, then eat some more. Sometimes you have to attend to the basic physical needs first of all. Quit being so “spiritual”, working yourself up over the big questions of why things feel so hard, and have a snack and a nap (and a snack again). He sure was worn out.

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Working at being lazy

I hate being lazy. If you ever accused me of being lazy I would react like a crazy person: I’d launch into some serious defensive behaviour and recite a long list of things to beat back your accusation until you agreed with me that I am, if anything, the exact opposite of lazy.

No one has ever actually called me lazy, probably because they can intuit that might be my response, and they love their life.

I think maybe I have a problem here. In fact, I know I do. Feeling lazy is for me an “Unbearable Feeling” (this is a term from Dave Riddell, and the concept is so fruitful, read more here), or as a counsellor recently called it an “emotional allergy”.*

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How to reset the family dynamic

Sometimes you just get into an unhealthy pattern of relating at home. Maybe it’s been a hard week (/month/year), maybe there’s been some hurt and disappointment, maybe the kids have been behaving like little… delights… and you’ve lost your rag with them one too many times.

Whatever the root cause, you can find yourself in the middle of grouchiness on every side.

We were there this week: meanness, hurtful words, withering eye rolls, thunderous frowns… the whole complement of grumpiness. And then there were the kids.

It reminds me of Paul’s warning against “biting and devouring” one another in Galatians 5:15. Or as The Passion Translation puts it:

But if you continue to criticize and come against each other over minor issues, you’re acting like wild beasts trying to destroy one another!

Wild beasts indeed.
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