The cost of choosing choice

According to at least a couple of sources I found, the word "count" appears in the Bible 105 times.

Here are few examples...

• Genesis 13:  "...if anyone could count the dust of the earth, then your offspring could be counted."
• Numbers 12: "...Oh, my lord, please don't count this sin against us, in which we have done foolishly, and in which we have sinned."
• 1 Chronicles 21: "David said to God, 'Wasn’t I the one who gave the order to count the people? I am the one who has sinned and acted very wickedly. But these sheep, what have they done? My Lord God, please let Your hand be against me and against my father’s family, but don’t let the plague be against Your people.' "
• Job 13: "Why do you hide your face and count me as your enemy?"
• Psalm 40: "Many, O Lord my God, are the wonders which You have done, And Your thoughts toward us; There is none to compare with You. If I would declare and speak of them, They would be too numerous to count."
• Luke 1: “For He has had regard for the humble state of His bondslave; For behold, from this time on all generations will count me blessed."
• Luke 14: "For who of you, willing to build a tower, doth not first, having sat down, count the expense, whether he have the things for completing?"
• Philippians 3: "...I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ.... Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus."

Count. It is a verb, an action word.

Sometimes, it was an action commanded by God allowing us to see the infinite benefit and inestimable bounty found in him - trusting him and forsaking all to follow him. 

Other times it was an action prohibited by God, particularly because that action would lead to pride, self-sufficiency and idolatry.

But it always includes a reckoning, a computation or estimation identifying and demonstrating the value we place upon something.

In Jesus' discourse (Luke 14),  this verb referred specifically to determining a value, a cost, that his followers had to decide whether or not they were willing to pay.

It was never a question of if such a decision would cost. 

Regardless of the decision, there would be a cost. 

That was a given. 

The question was which one those those listening were willing to pay.

When we chose missionary life, we knew there would be a cost to pay. Sometimes, the cost has seemed so nonexistent that momentary benefits far outweighed any expense. Other times, that cost has been far steeper than we ever imagined having to pay, leading to consequences that 1) we didn't choose and 2) we never desired.

More than anything else, it has reinforced the value of the ministry we have been gifted.

Today, I watched a documentary on Rick Rescorla, the director of security for Morgan Stanley, a financial securities firm housed in the North Tower of the World Trade Center in 2001. Rescorla recognized the possibility of terrorist attacks on such symbolic buildings, and insisted on evacuation drills which, when were implemented on September 11 and probably saved over 3000 lives. Not his own, however. Rescorla counted the cost, re-entering the building (while speaking on the phone with his wife) to do a final sweep, just prior to the building's collapse.  

In light of our world's current events, I've been asking myself how it is that people want to be able to make a choice, theoretically after having weighed all the information and counted the cost, but then scream and fuss when faced with the results of their choice? 

Why are they not willing to live the consequences inherent to their decision? 

The consequences might stink; they may seem discriminating, frustrating, unfair, detestable, abhorrent... but they shouldn't be surprising.

People want to decide, and in our society, they currently have that freedom. But that doesn't seem to be all that is desired. People want the freedom to choose without any cost.

If the choice really was that important, that essential, that precious... the cost should be willingly and readily paid.   

Five Minute Friday (from a week ago) ~ Should

I'm a perfectionist.

And I don't usually have a problem meeting expectations, or achieving what is considered "acceptable."

Efficient, usually energetic, hard-working, perseverant - 

But I rarely measure up to my own standards. 

You know ~ the ones I set for myself, and work so hard to try and attain (sometimes driving my family crazy in the process). And yet... almost always and even after all that effort, I fall short. 

I can come up with a dozen or more shoulda, coulda, wouldas: "If I'd just ______________..." Then, just for good measure, I'll tack on a few coulda, shoulda wouldas because I can always think of a million possibilities given the 20/20 vision of hindsight: what I should have or could have done differently that would have, ideally, produced an "on-target" result or, at the very least, one more in line with what I'd been aiming for.

To add insult to injury, at this point, I usually start to mentally beat myself up - not only because of my failure to achieve my goal, but also because of the resulting internal drama that results from this perfectionism.

According to Psychology Today, perfectionism is "...life [as] an endless report card on accomplishments or looks. It's a fast and enduring track to unhappiness, and ...is often accompanied by depression and eating disorders. What makes perfectionism so toxic is that while those in its grip desire success, they are most focused on avoiding failure, so theirs is a negative orientation. And love isn't a refuge; in fact, it feels way too conditional on performance. Perfection, of course, is an abstraction, an impossibility in reality, and often it leads to procrastination. There is a difference between striving for excellence and demanding perfection."

As I used to say growing up, "It ain't good." 

But ~

 God is using it as a chisel in my life.

I'm in the midst of one of those shoulda, coulda, woulda mental battles right now - one where I didn't accomplish what I'd wanted or expected of myself and for which I'd worked long and hard. I had striven for more than just excellence. I only achieved pretty good. I certainly didn't attain the perfection I was demanding of myself.

God's chiseling away at my self-sufficiency and self-idolatry and the antibiblical underlying worldview to which my perfectionism attests: that somewhere, deep down inside, I still believe that me, myself and I can figure out how to be more than good enough. 

It's a worldview that denies the power of the Gospel, suffocates grace, smothers mercy and stamps out hope.

And I know I want no part of it. 

For I know the One Who already DID. And He ain't little.

He is the heart of the Gospel, the author of grace, the impetus of mercy and the harbinger of hope.

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(No, this isn't really a five minute write... but it is something that has been tumbling around inside over the past few weeks. Now, it's finally tumbled out as I think with my fingers.)

How Dare We !!?

Do not gloat when your enemy falls;

when they stumble, do not let your heart rejoice,

or the Lord will see and disapprove

and turn his wrath away from them.

(Proverbs 24.17,18)

I'll never forget how physically sick I felt the day a dangerous individual who had harmed others and sinned greatly died, or more accurately - was killed, and my Facebook feed was littered with celebration.  Many rejoiced saying that said individual deserved even worse than the consequences already received.

True enough. I really can't argue that.

Justice HAD been served.

The celebration, however, broke my heart. To know that a soul, one most likely not prepared to stand before God, had entered eternity unprepared? No longer did any opportunity exist for a change of heart for that individual. And people who love Jesus with abandon apparently felt no sorrow that a soul was now condemned to hell.

Actions have consequences. Absolutely! 

In fact, the consequences of my actions make hell a just destination for me, but for God's mercy and grace.

Sometimes I forget that. 

When I get all caught up in the hating of an antagonistic adversary or despicable foe, I totally lose sight of the fact that the only reason I only look any different in God's eyes than does "my enemy" is that because He sees me clothed in Christ's righteousness. Somehow, I start suspecting that my own righteousness and efforts are impressing the Almighty, if only just a little bit.

When that mindset creeps in, when I realize that I'm glad - rejoicing and celebrating because of another's 

• tottering,
• wavering and weakening where there was once strength,
• stumbling and falling,
• fainting,
• bereavement, 
• being cast down, 
• decaying, 
• failing, 
• feebleness, 
• ruin
• death?

I do not please God.

The only thing I can think of that begins to compare in my own life is when I see one of my children delighting and gloating in the deserved comeuppance of a sibling. Discipline is necessary and so critical as parents disciple children, but it pains to see one I love so much suffering through shame, guilt, conviction and/or consequences. 

It pains just as deeply, though, to see another one of my children enjoying their sibling's sadness, making merry as another reaps the aftermath they've brought on themselves. The more godly response would be sober sorrow.

Sober sorrow, however, must be the evidence of God's grace. This proverb warns, "Do not let...," words which remind me that rejoicing in another's just consequences or punishment is the natural and worldly-fleshly-sinful response. 

It is God's unfettered grace that enables His own to "not let" rejoicing ensue at the demise of a real or perceived enemy and to genuinely sit awhile with sober sorrow.

1st photo credit: adedip via photopin cc

2nd photo credit: Amarand Agasi via photopin cc

*originally published here, and slightly edited  and republished here.
Still convicting thoughts I regularly need to revisit, so revised and published once again..

Five Minute Friday ~ Common

I've NEVER written a FMF post this way before, but when I saw the prompt... remembered this photo taken just a few weeks ago... thought about the past few weeks...

I knew I had to at least give it a try.

So, I'm tapping away on my android, in a dark room, in the home of people I'd never met before last night... after flying all day Wednesday and then driving 500+ miles Thursday to bring my third child on a college visit (HOW we can be at this point with THIRD child is a fact that leaves me a little dizzy from all the spinning).

But that's  all superfluous stuff.

Last month, Tim and I had a day-long date. We were in the States for two different training conferences, with a day off in between the end of one and the beginning of the next. So we took that day and drove to the outskirts of DC, rode the Metro to the station nearest the "Mall" and spent all day discovering our nation's capital. On an October day warm enough for shorts and sleeveless shirt, we spent the entire day outside... traversed over 14 miles on foot - from the outside of the White House, to the Marine service monument pictured above, to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, to Jefferson's Memorial to the Capital Building... and just about EVERYTHING in between. Exhausting, and we were oh-so-sore the next day, but? Oh so worth it! The time together and the experience of who and what we are... at least pieces... as Americans was pretty special!

It was standing at the monument above, though, that I was most "bouleversed"  (that's the English-ified way of saying bowled over), in the midst of snapping pics, to just experience that blown away feeling. For THAT quote -inscribed on the pedestal- should, ESPECIALLY in this season...

give us all pause.

For right now, in such a time as this, we need 

uncommon valor to be, perhaps, the MOST COMMON virtue.

We need to recognize the "valor" exhibited by both Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton as they chose to place themselves under unbelievable scrutiny, all for the opportunity to serve us and our country (regardless of whether I agree with idealogy, past actions or future plans... I think that took courage). 

We need to see the valor in those who voted or didn't vote, uncompromisingly living their personal convictions. 

We need to choose valor TODAY, in this moment, as we seek to live next to, interact with, build bridges and relationships, with ALL around us - speaking truth in love, learning to listen and understand first, standing firm on truth.

Like other Americans before us, who faced challenging times although different circumstances... like our current fellow Americans who face this present challenging time with different understandings of our current circumstances...

We all need to choose, by God's grace, this uncommon valor as THE common virtue.

It is a heritage we can and should live up to...

Five Minute Friday ~It wasn't what I expected to see at the park yesterday

We went for a walk yesterday. Across the street to the bike path, through the Indian reservation, across the St. Charles River on the old-railroad-trestle-converted-to-foot/bike-traffic-bridge where we stopped for a few minutes to watch the rapidly flowing water. Then, we turned off the bike path to follow a different path that runs parallel to the river, and heads toward a park and playground where our kids always enjoy a few minutes to romp. Greening grass, sun peaking through the clouds, and gently blowing breeze - it really was a beautiful day for a walk.

Not too many meters in front of us was an elderly gentleman walking his dog. Although it was nothing more than a small "lap" dog, I noticed the man tensing, appearing hyper aware of my little girls rapidly skipping his way; he moved to make sure that he blocked the dog's direct path towards my girls. I motioned to them to move off the path, giving the man and his dog a wide berth and also giving them the subtle message that this wasn't an occasion to see if they could stop and pet the animal. Animal-fanatics that they are, they were too intent on reaching the playground to consider a protest.

We hung around at the playground for 20 minutes... maybe a half hour. There was only one other family hanging out - two women with three young girls dressed in matching school uniform jumpers and leggings. After several minutes, the older man and his dog reappeared. They had almost completed a circuit following the perimeter of the playground - but instead of continuing along that path, he decided to cut through the playground before heading back the direction from which he'd originally come. He'd just about rounded the corner when one of those little uniformed girls noticed his little dog. She respectfully ran up to him and started to speak to him. I wasn't close enough to hear the conversation, but the man knelt down and securely held his dog, close to his body with its head directed away from the girl while leaving his back exposed so that she could gently scratch its back. At that moment, the two other little girls came running up - also wanting their chance to pet the dog - but one of them approached from the side where the dog's head was. She reached out to pet it. It promptly snapped at her, catching her with its teeth... or perhaps even biting her. She immediately started to scream and cry - at which point the mother, who'd been sitting on a swing next to her friend and busy on her cell phone - looked up. The little girl when running towards her mother. The two other little girls jumped back from the dog with terrified expressions on their faces. The horrified and worried man immediately ran to the mother to let her know what happened and they spoke for a few minutes. He left the park and the little girl continued to sob. Eventually, her mother took her up to their car, where they pulled out a first aid kit while the other woman put down her cell phone to watch the other two girls.

I was immediately plagued by two very judgmental questions...

• Why in the world walk a dog - with the potential of aggressive behavior around kids - through a playground?
• Why take your kids to the playground if you aren't going to enjoy watching them play and aren't going to keep an eye on them regarding potential dangers?

...because

• while I love dogs, I also tend to be quite vigilant when it comes to potentially aggressive dogs after having owned a little one that became less and less tolerant of unknown children as she aged (and resulting in me being on the receiving end of a few bites when I ran interference) and after a few scary incidents between my oldest and unknown dogs - many years ago now. 
• after all of the vitriol via social media and ensuring the safety of children (i.e. public bathrooms), it seems obvious that when you take your children to a location where an increased potential for danger exists, you must be watching and at the ready to protect them should the situation so warrant.

My judgmental attitude resulted because I held others to the same expectations of behavior that I hold for myself... with nothing more than a cursory surface knowledge of their reality. 

As I've thought about what I observed and my reaction, I've realized that the elderly gentleman probably expected to be able to control his dog so that he wouldn't have to disappoint a really cute little schoolgirl sweetly asking to love on his pet. He didn't expect another child from the same family to run up from his blind side and assume she could touch his dog without permission... I've also considered that the mother, like myself, didn't expect someone with a more aggressive animal to take that animal for a walk through a place typically set aside for children and that perhaps her involvement with her phone included making plans to best care for her children. 

Obviously, our expectations will greatly influence choices - right and wrong, selfish and sacrificing, knowledgeable and ignorant - that we make, potentially leading to positive and/or negative results and outcomes. 

It isn't wrong to expect... 

Sometimes what we do with those expectations is, however.

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If you think you might like to join this week's Five Minute Friday, check it out here!

Five Minute Friday ~ "I don't know... You decide!"

Have you ever found yourself caught in one of those situations where no one wants to take the lead and just make a decision?

"Where should we go for lunch?"

"I don't care. Go ahead, you pick."

"No, seriously - you should be the one to decide. I picked last time."

"But it really doesn't matter to me... so, wherever! It's all good."

Obviously, this particular dilemmatic circumstance is more annoying than anything else. 

Eventually, someone will make a choice and after having wasted anywhere 5-15 minutes of their lunch break, the two (whoever they might be) will head off for lunch and before long forget all about their indecision. Worst case scenario? Too much time is wasted so someone finally decides they's rather just go to the company cafeteria or raid the vending machines and eat at their desk. And everyone feels stupid.

Are you a person who avoids making a definitive choice?

Silly girls who can't decide which silly face to make for their sister-selfie!

After all, that's the history behind the word. 

Decide comes from the Latin decidere means, quite literally, "to cut off." It is formed from the prefix de-, which means "off" and the verb caedere, which means "to cut," 

When a choice is made, it cuts off all other possibilities. If Tim and I choose to run to Ashton's for lunch some day, then Tim Horton's is no longer a possibility. If we decide to go skiing over Spring Break, then we won't be taking photos overlooking our toes on a sandy beach with Caribbean blue waves breaking in the background.

Deciding is a form of exclusivity.

That's why it makes some people uncomfortable.

In circumstances like where to go for lunch, that exclusivity isn't life-changing or irreversible.

But with some decisions, there's no turning back... and there's no way to guarantee the consequences, good or bad...

How about you? Do you make decisions easily? Or is it one of those things you find difficult to do?

...so I decided to take a selfie with him!

What's it really mean? "Go..."

You know that moment when you read or hear something... and your only response is an emotional/mental, "Ouch!" ??

I had one of those moments the other day when I read: 

"One of the main reasons [insert your country... county... city... name here]'s churches are not ministering to a larger number of people is because they typically wait for people to come to them.... Many congregations seem to have become ends in themselves. They exist for each other and become preoccupied with themselves and their'way of 'doing'  religion. Lay ministry means nothing more than getting involved in running the church." (Dr. Reginald Bibby, Transforming Our Nation: Empowering the Canadian Church for a Greater Harvest, p. 302, 300-301)

I read that and started to wonder, "Could that be true? That even when we go as missionaries to far flung corners of the globe we still somehow wait for people to come in to find us instead of going out and sharing with them?"

I can only really speak to my own experience living, working and trying to minister in West Africa - but if I'm speaking honestly, spending most of my time with other expat friend and colleagues was certainly more comfortable. And there were times that it was needed and an integral ministry. Even after living in the same neighborhood for several years, stepping out into the community to visit with the ladies, trying to use my third language, seeking to understand a culture and way of thinking that was so completely foreign to me, always knowing that I was obviously a foreigner just because of the color of my skin.

I can also only really speak to my own experience living, working and trying to minister in Midland, Michigan - where my kids attend the Christian school that is a ministry of our sending church... where life seems to be consumed by school and church activities or by traveling and visiting with our partnering churches activities... and our little ones come to the "invite a friend to church" nights and realize they don't know anyone who doesn't already know Jesus or go to church regularly....

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To read the rest, please join me over at More for Missionary Moms, 

where I was posting yesterday.

Today! It's my favorite day!

I’ve spent a lot of years, now, reading and rereading The Complete Tales of Winnie the Pooh, featuring Pooh, his pal Piglet and the rest of their cohorts from the Hundred Acre Woods.

It’s a good thing I’ve never tired of either him or his pals.

Actually, the longer I read, the more I notice the mighty amounts of wisdom coming from that bear of very little brain…

I’ve read them to kids from other cultures, impromptu-like and on-the-fly-translated to French (in a less than stellar fashion, too, I’m quite sure)! Even rural Gourmantche kids from the backside of the desert got a kick out of the pictures and my awkward, unprepared translations.

Surprisingly, Pooh Bear is quite culturally adaptable. He just rolls with whatever adventure comes his way in a surprisingly positive and yet matter-of-fact way.

I’m trying to take lessons from him....

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It seems strange that this is the post scheduled for today... 

Because today certainly doesn't feel like a favorite day in any way, shape or form. I'm in Southern Illinois for my grandfather's funeral and so feel as though I'm fighting tears or comforting kids dripping in tears a large chunk of the time. At the same time, I'm wondering about a very unimportant-in-the-grand-scheme-of-things-detail - our home for this year. Shortly after we took off for this trip, large storms raced through our town and one result is that we know the power is off at our house - and my husband's dad was restricted from accessing the area, at least yesterday. So everything could be fine at home or it could be a mess. We just don't know.

I guess it is an opportunity to practice this very thing I wrote about as we celebrate the life of one of the best men I've ever had the opportunity to know, and I got to call him Pop-pop!

Head on over to a life overseas: the missions conversation - to read all about the talk I'm trying to walk...

Five Minute Friday ~ Tree

There are three things that I always think of when I see/hear the word tree:

This picture ~

The day our billy goat treed our littlest one and she was genuinely stuck there until I rescued her (after taking photos) ~

And a conversation I had with one of the ladies at our church over in Niger. And how the point of that conversation is something that needs to be taken to heart here in the our little mid Michigan community as well.

The fact is... the tendency to judge and evaluate others is one that is continually there. I think people who say they don't... well, I'm not so sure they are being honest with themselves. Only most judgments are made incorrectly (Jesus warned about that in John 7) - based on outward, external appearances: clothing... hairstyles... tattoos... extrovertedness... position... number of times someone is/isn't at church... and assumptions are made based on those external appearances:

• How can that person believe abortion should be legal and still claim to be a Christian?
• Under no circumstances could that clothing be considered modest!
• She's just let herself go. She must have no self control!
• I'd certainly never let my kids behave like that in public. What in the world are they teaching them?
• etc., etc., etc....

The problem with judging based on those assumptions, though, is just like trying to determine the hardiness of a tree based only on what can be seen above the ground. Sometimes that is accurate. Often times, however, we have no idea just how deep or widely established the roots are. I can remember growing up in Oklahoma and walking through where tornadoes had ravished the day before. Large robust looking trees totally uprooted, exposing the shallowness of their root system. Smaller, more fragile appearing trees still firmly in place... maybe because their outward growth appeared stunted while the roots went deep. I didn't understand that then. I really don't understand it still now.

All I do know is that the Holy Spirit reminds me of trees many times when I feel that urge to pronounce judgment as though I know all based on appearances and assumptions.

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Head on over to Lisa Jo's if you'd like to join us this week.

"I just don't feel like you love me!"

That statement, flung at me by one of my daughters, was first prefaced with the claim that she and I must speak different love languages and was in the context of an angry, grumpy, exhausted day where said daughter felt she was entitled to something (that was hers) the very moment she demanded it.

It reminded me of all that volcanic activity that we saw while we were out in Yellowstone last summer.

Her comment angered me and frankly, my first "reactive" thoughts ran along the lines of, "Fine then. Why don't I just give you a very tangible taste of what it would really 'feel' like if I didn't love you."

Which infuriated me. Not just my daughter's angry and hurtful words. My initial response, I mean.

I so totally despise that feeling of infuriating myself... It usually means that in my thought life (if not actually acted out in real time), I'm acting no differently or better than a child... my child.

The temptation is always there. I want to walk through life, assuming a landscape of entitlement, insisting that things go just the way I think they should with self at the center of all. That might be because I think I've worked hard enough and I deserve it... or because things have been so bad and hard lately I should get a break... or because I am important (for this or that reason) and people around me should recognize that and value me... or because my contribution is a little more vital and they'd really miss me if I stopped [contributing] so they'd better not tick me off... or because...

I could keep on going, couldn't I.

The problem with living that way is that I'm just like a volcanic landscape.

Sometimes those feelings bubble and boiling to the surface, little poofs of steam sometimes shoot up, all hinting and giving glimpses of the ugly underneath when too much life pressure builds up. That odor permeating the area? It's distinct - not overpowering but always noticeable. Kinda sulfery. Most would be hard-pressed to describe it sweet, mild, pleasant - or a place to hang out for a significant time.

Other times, there's not noticeable fuming or exploding. But clearly? Something unhealthy is going on underneath, for the visible landscape it missing something. I has a desolate air to it: things once growing and vibrant have died and signs of new life are nonexistent. People who tread that landscape always do so hesitantly, scared of what all that energy just below the obvious surface might do to them should it be unleashed. Who wants to stick it out long term when that sort of blackmail threat is always buried, just out of sight, but still palpable?

Then there are always those who begin to rumble and grumble and then just spew heat and hate and anger and entitlement... sometimes predictably, sometimes only every so often and clearly not when expected, sometimes large and wide, sometimes narrow and high with deadly force and precision.

I don't imagine many would say, "I want people to think of a geologic nightmare, intriguing and fascinating though it may be, like the landscape of Yellowstone... when they think of me." Personally, Yellowstone was the kind of place that was nice to visit. But it wasn't one of the places we saw on our travels where I said, "I could just plant myself here and never leave..." It was too volatile- it sometimes felt (and I don't know if this would make any sense to anyone else) voyeuristic, not to mention overstimulating and just plain exhausting.

As I've thought back many times at first, but just recently once again, to my daughter's furious fuming that began this whole mind-and-heart-meander, I had one final light bulb ping.

I make similar statements to God time and time again. Just like Job did. Until he realized. 

What was Job's response?

"I know that You can do all things, And that no purpose of Yours can be thwarted. 'Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?' Therefore I have declared that which I did not understand, Things too wonderful for me, which I did not know. Hear, now, and I will speak; I will ask You, and You instruct me. I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear; But now my eye sees You; Therefore I retract, And I repent in dust and ashes." (NASB, from Job 42)

 Or phrased another way...

“I’m convinced: You can do anything and everything. Nothing and no one can upset your plans. You asked, ‘Who is this muddying the water, ignorantly confusing the issue, second-guessing my purposes?’ I admit it. I was the one. I babbled on about things far beyond me, made small talk about wonders way over my head. You told me, ‘Listen, and let me do the talking. Let me ask the questions. You give the answers.’ I admit I once lived by rumors of you; now I have it all firsthand—from my own eyes and ears! I’m sorry—forgive me. I’ll never do that again, I promise! I’ll never again live on crusts of hearsay, crumbs of rumor.” (The Message, from Job 42)

Thanks to Anna for her photos of Old Faithful.