Red Bird Devotions #19

Dangerous Amnesia 
(repost from 3/22/10)

“Sometimes we forget love”.

When I saw this posted as my son’s Facebook status, it made contemplate my life. I don’t ever forget love, do I?

I do.

Sometimes, when I am rushed and burdened and trying to complete the last lines of a well-thought out essay, and my precious daughter comes to talk to me, to give me a kiss good-night, I kiss her hurriedly—really wishing her already to bed—really only caring about completing my agenda; Then, I forget love.

When my teenage son is grumpy because he is over-homeworked, over-exerted and under-slept, and all I can do is criticize him because of his forgetfulness or his lack of joy; Then, I forget love.

When my husband isn’t like me and I judge him for the way he thinks or acts or perceives life in general, and not only do I think it, but I tell him I think it; Then, I forget love.

When I so desire someone to know Christ, and I give them a Bible and I talk to them about God and I tell them about Grace, but I don’t invite them to be a part of my life, nor do I get involved in their life; Then, I forget love.

When I pray to God for me and my family and my stuff, but I never ask God about Himself or about His purposes or about His Joy, and I never see beyond myself to His Majesty; Then, I forget love.

When I forget that it was Jesus who died to take my place—on a cross, with nails and blood and pain and with all the horrors of my sin heaped upon his broken body; Then, I forget love.

O Father God, keep reminding, keep reminding. I don’t want to forget. To Love.

“Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.”

Colossians 3:12-14

Red Bird Devotions #11

We Like What We're Used To

(Repost from 3/18/11)

One of the penalties of sin is our acceptance of it. It is not only God who punishes for sin, but sin establishes itself in the sinner and takes its toll. No struggling or praying will enable you to stop doing certain things, and the penalty of sin is that you gradually get used to it, until you finally come to the place where you no longer even realize that it is sin.

Oswald Chambers -- My Utmost for His Highest

We like what we’re used to.

This week, because Luke and friends took my Suburban to Florida, I have been driving Brent’s car.  And I have a bad attitude about it; it doesn’t have an arm rest, there’s no alert chime when gas is low, the seat feels wrong.  I’m just generally unhappy operating it.  You know why?  Because I like what I’m used to, and I’m used to my Suburban.

The other day, I had Shay drive Brent’s car as we came home from a track meet together.  And she complained; the brakes were touchy, the gear shift was on the console—not the steering wheel, the seat was too far back.  She didn’t like it either.  Is it because Shay’s normal wheels are so fantastic?  No, she drives Luke’s old green Buick Century in which the windows don’t roll down, the shifting symbols (P,R,N,D) are missing (you just have to kind guess where you are by feel and hope you don’t drive off the retaining wall) and only one wiper blade works. Brent’s car is actually fairly new and smooth and (though I hate to admit it) kind of cool.  So why didn’t she like it either?  Because she likes what she’s used to, and she’s used to the Buick.

As Christians, this concept should motivate us towards righteousness and away from sin.  If we like what we’re used to, shouldn’t we make sure that we are “used to” righteousness? If pursuing righteousness is our daily routine, we will become accustomed to the thought patterns and activities that accompany it. And we will like it.  But…if our daily choices are not reflecting the renewed mind that God promises us, and if sinful tendencies have become the norm, then we become “used to” sin and it fails to shock us anymore.  In fact, it feels downright comfortable. 

We like what we’re used to. What are you used to?

Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.

Romans 12:2

Red Bird Devotions #6

Jean-e-ology

When my oldest son, Luke, was in 7^th grade, he was as hungry as a horse and growing like a weed.  Because of this adolescent growth spurt, he was going through clothes faster than I could I could buy them.  One day his jeans would fit, and the next day they would be too short!  To alleviate this high-water pants problem, I was constantly picking up second-hand or sale-rack jeans and putting them on the stairway for him to grab as he went down to his room in the basement.  I would often just lay them there without informing him and he would just carry them to his closet and put them away.

One day as Luke came up the stairs to eat his breakfast before school, I noticed that his jeans were long enough, but they looked puffy all around his hips and front.  I asked him where he had gotten the unfamiliar trousers; he said he took them off of the top step a few days ago when he had gone to bed.  Turning him around, I looked at the label on the pocket and saw a swan insignia with the name “Gloria Vanderbilt” written below it.  I burst out laughing, finally figuring out where the ill-fitting pants had come from: his grandmother!  Luke was wearing his grandma’s hand-me-down jeans!  My mom had given them to me, thinking that I could wear them since she was getting rid of them.  However, since they didn’t really fit me, I put them on the stairway, intending to carry them to the storage room where I kept our items to be thrifted. Luke has just assumed that these “new” jeans were for him and dutifully put them on.  Maybe he was too tired to notice the puffiness.  Or maybe he thought “Gloria Vanderbilt” designed men’s clothing.  Or maybe he was just being obedient because he thought I wanted him to wear them.  Regardless of the reason, he looked HILARIOUS, but he felt humiliated because he was wearing HIS GRANDMOTHER’S JEANS! Scowling, he ran downstairs as fast as he could and came up wearing some too-short boys’ jeans.  Yes, they were a little too small, but at least they weren’t his grandma’s! 

Why do I tell you that funny story? Because sometimes we, as Christ-followers, also put on the wrong clothing.  Colossians 3:12-14 says,

“Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.  Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.  And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.”

If we are not careful, instead of compassion, we put on indifference; instead of kindness, condemnation.  We wear pride rather than humility, antagonism rather than gentleness, irritation rather than patience.  We berate rather than bear with; We find fault when we should forgive.  We layer on entitlement and envy and judgement where we should be wearing love.  Why do we do this?  Because we adopt the style of the world we inhabit.  If we yearn to look like people of the world, instead of God’s chosen ones, no changing room is required. Those clothes will just naturally become part of our wardrobe.  But, if we long to be clothed in Christ, and we claim to be wearing his “Robe of Righteousness,” we will be able to choose what we are to “put on” and what we should “take off:”

"You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.”( Ephesians 4:22-24)

Next time you are tempted to just “grab something” and throw it on, carefully consider if “what you wear” tells the true story of Whose you are.  If you are a child of the King, your “jean-e-ology” should be obvious.  

Over everything, put on love because love is always in style…for grandmothers AND middle school boys!

“Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.” 

1 Peter 3:3-4

A Very Long Walk in May, Chapter 8

Much of this entry is dedicated to any innocent persons whom I may have offended with my last post when asked, "What do you do all day?"  In reality, we do more than hike (if we didn't, I know I would go crazy. Tess would probably be okay.)  See below for a less-sassy description of our hiking activities...

Thursday May 25th, 2017  Day 11. Slow start today because Tess felt a little sick, so we ate at our campsite and left around 8 a.m. Fairly easy morning, but seemingly long afternoon for only 12 miles total. Met some other thru-hikers today going NOBO (northbound): women, 65 and 70!  Hope I am still hiking at 70!  Staying at North Cross River tonight. Beautiful but a little crowded with early Memorial Day hikers and campers. Jet is very admired on the trail and is learning to meet and greet a bit better. I feel mentally worn out from the long miles and Tess seems down this afternoon.  Learning to lower expectations and enjoy the trip. Give us joy, Lord!

Tess felt better after her delicious oatmeal breakfast

Hiking Alone

After the “excitement” at Lutsen and our exposure to the Wolf Man, Tess and I were glad for a couple of normal (a.k.a. not overly frightening or depressing) days. On these days, we would do some hiking together and some hiking separately. Although Tess really liked being alone for a portion of each day, I struggled to enjoy my solitude. Normally, I love to walk in the woods by myself, taking time to contemplate the wonders of nature; but, for some reason, on backpacking trips, I really like companionship.  This was especially true of this trip. Though I was able to complete our mileage each day, the exertion required took so much of my energy that I felt mentally drained.  I expected this at first, but I thought my weariness would abate as our trip progressed; it didn’t. In fact, it seemed to get worse.

I don’t know why the hiking was so hard for me, or why I felt like such a loser for not being able to keep up.  Maybe, it was because I was carrying emotional baggage along with my backpack; I think that, unconsciously, the trip represented to me a kind of laborious metaphor: that of my entire last year--one of the hardest in my life. 

In the year previous to our very long walk, I had sent my oldest son and his wife off to live in China, and our youngest son, Cole, moved away from home to attend college. With all my children now grown, I felt forced out of the most satisfying role in my life. Right or wrong, I had placed much of my identity into motherhood, and the absence of this daily reality deeply saddened me. I spent my hiking alone time grieving. I was so unaccustomed to this “new era” that my thoughts became increasingly self-focused; I racked my brain for a new description of "Tori Haverkamp" and came up blank.  I desperately wanted to find fulfillment in something new, since my "mothering days" were over, something I was good at...and it most certainly wasn't hiking.  

Hold onto that thought; I will continue the theme in a future post.

Hiking Together

I was able to escape from my unhealthy self-absorption when Tess and I hiked together. Sometimes, we played little thought experiment games where she would ask a question like: “If you were Brian (in The Hatchet), or Robby Cru (our nickname for Robinson Crusoe--also the name of the book), how would you survive in the northern Minnesota wilderness/deserted tropical island? (Luckily, I was fairly successful in the former game since I had been keeping myself alive in the very cold northern Minnesota wilderness for the last two weeks, but Tess was more adept at the latter since she is somewhat hippie-like and has chased down wayward pigs on an organic farm and regularly makes kombucha). We then talked for hours about the kind of shelter we would need, how we would create it out of a fallen and hollowed-out tree or under the projection of an enormous sheltered rock, and how we would sterilize/desalinate our water.  We wondered if the berries on the prickly bushes that caught our legs were edible or poisonous (and hypothesized as to how we would determine this), and how Robby Cru raised enough grapes to make raisins. This discussion led us to a conversation of the book, Into the Wild, and the main character, Alexander Supertramp’s, unfortunate demise from misidentifying something called “wild potato”.  As we talked about this misfortune, we discussed a movie I had recently watched where two people survive a plane crash in the mountains (which was a really bad thing for us to dwell upon since we arrived in an airplane and would soon be flying home in one), and if it was realistic or not.  Sometimes, we strayed from the “survival in the wilderness” theme and asked each other “If you could only have 5 pieces of clothing to wear, what would they be?”  In normal life, these questions might take a few minutes to answer, but because we were trying to pass the many moments of the many miles, they took hours...and many revisions.  I liked playing the game, “Would You Rather…” where we queried each other about alarming and impossible things like “Would you rather be paralyzed and in a wheelchair for the rest of your life, but have no pain OR have constant chronic pain but have control of all of your limbs?” Or, “Would you rather be a poor kid with attentive parents or a rich kid with distracted parents but tons of opportunities in your life?”  Tess thought my game was depressing.  

When we ran out of thought experiments, we created individual “podcasts”; Tess spent an afternoon recounting the different types of memory that our brains are capable of recording, and I helped her to understand the main themes in the book of Ephesians. We memorized most of the first chapter of Philippians and repeated it over and over to one another. We talked about the years’ highs and lows, our goals for the future, our favorite childhood memories--our own childhoods and my memories of her as a little girl-- and the “Three Most Epic Moments” of our lives.  She asked me to give advice to my “20-something self” and I asked her to tell me what God had taught her in the last few months.  At no other time, and in no other way, would we have set aside this much precious time to quiz and ponder and reflect and play. I wouldn’t trade these times for the endless days of sun that I thought I wanted.   

Moral of the Story: When you are feeling bad about yourself, don't hike alone.  Grab a friend (preferably one with survival skills) and have long conversations while walking TOGETHER in the woods.  

Licorice also helps.  

Happy together

Friday May 26th 2017, Day 12. Woke up to rain again, but it stopped soon after we started around 8 a.m. Better day today, seems shorter even though we did 13 plus miles. Sun!! as we came into camp this afternoon. Sat on the warm rocks with Tess and sunned ourselves. Finally some lasting warmth! Staying at a beautiful campsite tonight. Thanks for your provisions, God!

China Farewell

I wrote this post on the eve of my son's departure to China, where he plans to live, with his wife, Jessica, for a very long time.  I hesitated to publish it in my immediate sentimental state because sometimes, when I write out my sadness, it is all sobbing and tears.  

Now, nearly two weeks removed, I feel I have distanced myself enough from the emotions so I can share my initial feelings of desperation without making you all feel nauseous.  

And just like that, they're gone.  I am trying to have an upbeat attitude about the whole thing and not be overly emotional.  But I can’t really talk about it either, because I am pretty fragile and the torrent of feeling may come rushing out at any moment.  So I have been keeping my mouth shut for fear of my heart flowing out and drenching everyone in my sappy mother-thought. 

But, I decided that it wouldn’t hurt to write it all down. That way, you can move out of the deluge if it is too much.  Or you can take it in bite-size pieces if you’d rather not drown in sentimentality. Anyway, I am feeling a loss that I can’t quite express and it reminds me somewhat of dropping my kids off at college, but in a more intense and final way.  I’m trying to pretend that he is still living his charmed life in Iowa City with his sweet bride Jessica, but in reality I know this isn’t true and I know that right now he is on a plane headed to a new land that is completely foreign to me.  I am trying my hardest to be excited about the opportunities that await them there—the adventure and exoticness of their new home—but I find myself thinking of myself and of my world and the changes that are happening and I am wondering if that is okay.  Parenting involves a lot of losing.  I am bad at losing. So here’s my attempt at poetically processing my sadness…

Heart Afloat

No one told me when I had my perfect baby that I would have to give him up

so

many

times;

I thought he was mine to keep.

But I was wrong.

This boy I raised is not really mine;

I don’t get to keep him forever.

Forever

is only

for Heaven.

Things on this earth are only on loan.

I didn’t know it would be like this;

how my heart would resist releasing my boy;  

how much I would have to trust my Father to do His best

for my

very

precious one.

I was surprised at my utter helplessness

when I couldn’t stop the clock;

when time would not stand still.

I have never truly had control. 

I

just thought

I did.

It’s the illusion that creates the heartache,

but memories sustain the soul

that hungers for wholeness.

And hope for a sweet reunion

keeps it

afloat

in the storm.

Because surrendering your children so many times

is like taking little pieces of your heart and

setting them

to sail

on the sea.

The Richest of Fare

“Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy? Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and you will delight in the richest of fare.”

Isaiah 55:2

When my oldest son, Luke, was just two years old, we took him to a toy store and let him pick out a small toy.  Thinking he might be overwhelmed with choices, we led him to miniature tractors, a dump truck, several colorful dinosaurs, and some balls, but we were amazed when he went straight for the plastic food.  After he had picked out a package that contained two tiny pieces of fake bread, some rubber meat that resembled bologna, a piece of flimsy yellow plastic cheese, and a minute bottle of pretend mustard, we went to the register, paid for the item, and got in the car to leave. Luke was impatient as we ripped open the plastic packaging and gave him his new toys; and as we pulled out of the parking lot, we heard a little voice from the back seat declaring, “This not good!”  As I looked back in surprise to his surly declaration, I saw that he had put all of the sandwich pieces together and was trying to eat them—to no avail.  We now knew the real reason for his unique toy selection that day.  

Luke was hungry—thus the reason he picked the toy that looked like food—and only real food would satisfy the craving he had for nourishment.  Aren’t we like that too?  The psalmist says in Psalm 107:9, “[God] satisfies the hungry with good things…” but we go about our days feasting on popular culture, fads, social media, and other people’s opinions.  We hungrily ingest unwholesome images, inappropriate entertainment, and irreverent advertisements without considering what they are doing to our minds and spirits.  Jonathan Edwards, the famous Puritan Preacher used to pray that God might “stamp eternity on [his] eyeballs” so that he could focus on eternal things, not temporary distractions (and I’ll bet you that Pastor Edwards had a life a tad less distracting than ours). 

We need to hunger to see a God that is so glorious that He transforms our lives.  We must dine on the Truth of His word and the privilege of His presence.  We can ‘taste and see that the Lord is good’ (Ps 34:8) by turning our eyes from worthless things and onto He who is Worthy. We have contented ourselves with the “fake food” that our society says will fill us when have a feast of God’s goodness available for the taking.  He invites us to “delight in the richest of fare”.

God gives real food—nourishment for our souls—and Living Water that never runs dry.  And when we begin to understand that only He can meet our deepest needs, we finally say “This not good!” to all that the world offers. As we look toward Easter this week, let’s yearn for Jesus by focusing our imaginations upon Him, His death, and His glorious resurrection. No longer will we dine on cheap imitations but on the true Bread of Life, Jesus Christ.

“How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth!”

Psalm 119:103

List #3: Lessons God Taught Me in 2014

God is constantly changing the way I think, and this year my Gentle Schoolmaster has taught me much.  Let me see if I can recall just a few of His lessons…

1.  Surrender

When I surrender my plans for my life and agree to live the life He has given me here and now, I am actually more content.  When I give up what I naturally desire, and deny my own willful ways, I find joy because I have escaped the bondage of myself.  I don’t have to do what I want because I am freed to do what is right.

2.  Identity

When I try to find my identity in anything other than Jesus, I am anxious and dissatisfied.  For a time, I was a mom of young children who needed me, but when those children grew and became independent, I became unsettled because my identity had been placed in motherhood, not in Christ alone.  Then I became a runner, and my identity was placed in how far and how fast I could run.  When my running stopped consuming me, I felt uneasy because if I wasn’t an athlete, what was I?  I then decided that I would be a writer since I was no longer a young mom or a successful runner, and this writing, it satisfied me…for a time.  But when I had less opportunity to write, I was constantly anxious because I was a writer but I wasn’t honing my craft.  If I thought of myself as a writer but never wrote, I felt bad and wrong since I was not doing what I was “made” for.  The fault with all of these methods of “finding myself” lies in the fact that I am made to bring God, not myself, glory. I am not here on earth to find myself.  I am here to acclaim the God who saved me.  I am here to make His name great.  My identity is to be found in Christ, not in what I do.

3.  Focus

The other night, I attended my son’s band concert, and before it began, while all the instruments were still warming up, chaos and disorganization reigned.  The clarinets practiced scales while the trombones belted low notes.  The drummers practiced paradiddles (yes, this is a real thing.  I am a former drummer), as the flutes trilled melody.  The din of all of them together assaulted my ears.  But then, as the conductor took his place on the podium and as all the eyes focused on him, the unorganized noises instantly became a beautiful song—with each instrument performing its appropriate role.  Isn’t this how it is with us?  We focus on a million things and our lives seem confusing and overwhelming.  But then, as we learn to keep our eyes on our Conductor, we begin to play our appropriate role in the Kingdom, and the very place that God has put us becomes a beautiful melody of praise to Him.

4.  Presence

When my oldest son Luke was just a little boy, he loved to set up armies of plastic green soldiers.  In fact, he spent so much time setting up his army men that he never played with them.  The process became so important that the fun of having a virtual, plastic battle was sacrificed.  Sometimes I am like this.  I get so caught up planning the details of my life, or trying to find a way to make a task more efficient that I forget to be present in the moment.  I forget to find joy in the process.  I often recall the quote by John Lennon that warns, “Life is what happens when you are making other plans.”  God wants me to live right now, in this moment.  I can plan, but I can’t ruminate and become anxious about my unknown future.  God’s got it.  THIS is the day that the Lord has made.  I WILL rejoice and be glad in it.

5.  Food

Each morning when I go out and feed the pets (a job I inherited from my new college freshman, Shay), I am reminded of the verse in Psalm 145, “All creatures look to you to give them their food at the proper time.”  When the animals hear the garage door rise and see me descending down the hill, they know it is time to eat and that I will give them what they need for the day.  This daily reminder of their trust in, and total dependence on, me leads me towards my Savior every time.  I often want to grow faster and understand more deeply the truths of God NOW.  The painfully slow process of sanctification is discouraging to me.  But my Father knows what I need and when I need it.  If He revealed all of His will for me in a torrent, I might become overwhelmed.  And if He made me unable to comprehend any of His precepts, my spirit would be malnourished.  He feeds me what I need when I need it.  I must trust in that promise.  As always, my Father knows best.

He must become greater; I must become less.  

John 3:30