a short, muddled post before James loses patience with his mama

Of all the endless things to love about Pope Francis, one of my favorites is that the man speaks plain English (in Italian, of course). I don't need to reread every sentence multiple times, consulting amateur philosophers, just to check that I am ticking the boxes of basic reading comprehension. In his homilies and his interviews, his words are so simple and so true.  The observations he makes strike me as plainly obvious - even though many of them are either brand-new thoughts to me or things I only vaguely grasped but never fully understood. Pope Francis has a clear and sometimes surprising grasp on what is  really important. And what is more important. And what is most important.  

Below are some condensed quotes I love from his homily this morning (with some points I plan to use for personal reflection). Pope Francis was preaching about how easily a Christian can slip from "having faith" to "having an ideology" - and how there is a massive difference between following Jesus and being a Christian.  These words are like daggers to my heart. I love them. 

"...Ideology does not beckon [people]. In ideologies there is not Jesus: his tenderness, his love, his meekness. And ideologies are rigid, always. At every sign: rigid. And when a Christian becomes a disciple of the ideology, he has lost the faith: he is no longer a disciple of Jesus, he is a disciple of this attitude of thought…" 
-Is my witness to Christ beckoning people? Who? (if anyone) 
-Who, if anyone, has it failed to beckon? Could a lack of tenderness, love or meekness on my part explain the failure?
-Where in my faith am I rigid? Where was Jesus himself rigid? Do these two answers align?
-In witnessing to others, is the uppermost goal of my heart to move them to behave in a more "Christian"
 manner OR is it to help them to truly know Jesus and His mercy, love and goodness?

“...Ideology frightens. Ideology chases away the people. It creates distances between people and it distances the Church from the people. But it is a serious illness, this ideology in Christians.....But why is it that a Christian can become like this? Just one thing: this Christian does not pray." 
-Can I remember times where the religious or political ideology of others has repelled me? Other than the possibility that I simply did not agree, was there something else repugnant about mere ideology? What was it?
-What symptoms of the illness of "Christian ideology" do I exhibit? (If I do not know the answer to this question, why don't I know it? And how can I learn the answer?)

“When a Christian does not pray, this happens. And his witness is an arrogant witness. He who does not pray is arrogant, is proud, is sure of himself. He is not humble.” 

“It is one thing to pray, and another thing to say prayers.”  
-Am I praying? 
-Am I praying to the heart of Jesus? Am I reading Scripture daily in a way that truly helps me to know His heart?
-Do I know the pitfalls in the way I personally witness to others? 
-Am I more focused on what others (Jesus, the Pope, mentors) are teaching me about authentically following Christ or am I more preoccupied with how I can explicitly teach/correct others?  
-Am I asking Jesus to show me the ways in which I drive others away from Him? Am I receptive when other people hint about or tell me this information themselves? 


I think this is important stuff to reflect on. The Pope is basically working with those of us who think we are The Religious Ones and telling us, "Look, your intentions are good but your execution stinks." So far he's put a good deal of his time and energy into teaching us how to be more effective, more genuine disciples. His major points are deceptively simple:  Comfort is the enemy - we need to accept our share of suffering; Don't get so lost in the "issues" that the Church is up against - remember the persons whom she is not "against"; Face up to your own materialism - and get rid of it;  etc...

I started thinking through the answers to some of those reflection questions above as I was writing them; I'll sit with the rest later tonight.....and the not-so-humble part of me is SUPER glad that I won't be putting the fruit of all that reflection up on a blog for all to see!   :)

Comedown

I have exceptionally noisy children. Or so, at least, they seem to me. Time was when I'd hop in the car and start fiddling with the stereo before the key was even in the ignition. I had all my favorite stations preset and would flip through them as compulsively as any man with a TV remote. Now I just want silence. If I have a rare opportunity to drive somewhere alone, I do so in profound and utter silence. No babies bawling, no sisters squabbling, no monologues by Maria and certainly no Raffi. Silence. Blessed, blissful, beautiful silence.

So I'm not sure why I turned on the radio tonight as I drove home from Adoration. Usually an entire hour of holy silence only whets my appetite for more silence. But I turned it on as I pulled out of the church parking lot and pressed "scan" a few times until I heard an old Bush song that brought back all the emotion and psychology of my teenage self. Something very, very deep within me lunged almost wildly towards the music. I turned the volume up until my ears hurt and tried to lose myself in whatever strange feeling was taking over. At the same time I was trying to figure out why half of me wanted to pull over and cry my eyes out.

It wasn't until the song was over and the spell was broken that I identified a reason for the intensity of my response to that angst-y piece of music. It was the abrupt juxtaposition of all that had made up the stuff of my recent hour of prayer against all that had filled my life twenty years ago. And that there were already almost twenty years between me and that Kelly.

There's so much responsibility now. The day-in, day-out care of four very young children is heavy, but it is almost nothing compared to the deeper fears, worries and goals associated with raising four human beings in this world as it now stands. There are so many gaps and pinches in our budget that I don't know how we hold it together at all. There are so many appointments - and things to remember - and papers to keep track of. There are Oreo crumbs that need to be unstuck from the toilet bowl (other people have this problem too....right?) and autumn clothes to swap out for six people. There's so much laundry...all the time. My inbox is full of essays I need to look over for the students I am tutoring. My mind is obsessing about the manipulative warnings of the crooked dentist who informed me last week that if I don't do the thousands of dollars of dental work he prescribed, my teeth will all rot out of my head before I turn forty. My conscience is full of all my faults and failings as a Christian, mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend and member of the wealthy Western world. My heart is wrestling with the idea of another child. There is not one yet, but for the first time in many, many months that possibility is again before me and must be again discerned. I want more babies. I am worn out and overwhelmed.

But two decades ago, I was not. When that song came out I was 16, maybe 17. Responsibility meant getting an A. Working at a bakery on the weekends. Getting my college applications in on time. And I was really, really good at responsibility. Those things were very easy. Those things were fun. I had few responsibilities, light responsibilities, responsibilities I found only enjoyable and effortless. I could get in my dad's 1987 Pathfinder carefree and turn up the radio and sing mediocre pop songs at the top of my youthful lungs every single day. And I did.

And I was miserable. In the midst of all that fun, I was deeply unhappy. Utterly self-centered, lonely, filled with longings for things I could barely even name, insecure, angry, unfulfilled and virtually ignorant of all the most important truths about God and His Church....

Today I am nearly crushed by responsibility and the much-ness of life, but I am so, so deeply happy. I was never this happy at seventeen. I wanted too painfully everything I have now - without even knowing it.

Gavin Rossdale's voice overpowered me with the difference that all these years have made. I'm always forgetting I'm not seventeen or nineteen or twenty-one. That's all that I feel like on the inside - a girl. Just a girl. Never a woman. Just a girl trying to shoulder all the responsibilities of a woman. But when I fleetingly slipped back into being a "real" girl again tonight, I realized profoundly that I am so different from her. More importantly, I realized that I would not want to take back any part of her life. I want everything I have now, right down to the Oreos on the toilet. I am blessed.

The cookie crumbs on the toilet, the unending noise, the impossibly small budget - these are the things that have made me who I am now - and are continuing to take me further and further away from that self-absorbed, frustrated person I was years ago. May they take me still further.

Humble Pope Benedict XVI told us that the world entices us with a mirage of comfort. "But you were not made for comfort. You were made for greatness." And in his interview this week, our beautiful Pope Francis said, “I see holiness in the patience of the people of God: a woman who is raising children, a man who works to bring home the bread....This is for me the common sanctity. I often associate sanctity with patience:....taking charge of the events and circumstances of life, but also as a constancy in going forward, day by day." 

I find his words so unbelievably encouraging. I feel like I'm barely hanging on, but Pope Francis sees real, exemplary holiness in the woman (or girl!) who shows constancy in going forward day by day raising children, scraping Oreos off the toilet, doing piles of laundry, settling sibling squabbles, cleaning up spit-up from the carpet, shouldering financial anxiety and flossing obsessively. And Pope Benedict calls it not merely holiness, but greatness. And Gavin? I Googled the lyrics to his song tonight.... he has nothing to say that holds a candle to either pope. That's the whole point.

serving dignity...differently

A few months ago James started "slugging" (army crawling). At that point my life-with-four-children-ages-six-and-under kicked into a whole new gear. Now they are all mobile and at least half of them are awake from 5am until 8pm. I have not found any time to keep a blog. Or respond to email. Or eat breakfast.

I have desperately tried to maintain some semblance of a prayer life, though only in bits and snatches many days. One of the recurring topics between the Lord and I has been that idea about single mothers. I'd really come to a place of almost perfect certainty that not only was He calling for action on it, but that He was calling for action right now. So I tried. I made phone calls and had meetings. The response was great. Things were moving. I was....nervous. Overwhelmed. Stressed. Unsure. Not quite at peace. For me, that's never really a great sign. The Lord speaks to me in peace. That's the only voice I recognize as His. So I had to hit the pause button and pray through it all again.

What I finally came to realize was that the "Servants of Dignity" was a great idea. It was needed. It was an inspiration from God. And it was not my project. At least not any more.

I think He wanted me simply to write about it and communicate it to someone else. I don't think He meant for me to go further with it than that. I felt a teeny bit sad about that - and a LOT relieved.

Recently I read my daughters a children's book by Max Lucado, Your Special Gift. (The book is not nearly as touchy-feely as the title.....) In a series of colorful pages some trippy little puppets try to help a poor family get through hard times, but each puppet tries to meet the need that seems most pressing, rather than trying to meet the need that he or she is best equipped to meet. For example, the town baker tries to fix the family's broken vehicle, instead of supplying them with food. The theme of the book is "use your best gift most". 

Starting up a ministry is not my best gift. I wouldn't have a clue what I was doing. I have a huge place in my heart for the unborn and for women in/after crisis pregnancies....but I have absolutely no practical experience in helping either other than offering prayer and material goods.

After praying about my real gifts, I concluded that one of the most fruitful ways I have served the Lord is through close interpersonal ministry with youth, particularly high school and college-aged girls. That area was my first love and it has been the stuff of every job and ministry in which I've been involved for the past thirteen years.  I had literally no sooner finished discerning this "refocusing" of my energies when I was asked (out of the blue) to be involved with the youth ministry program at my parish. Specifically, I've been invited to get involved with the girls' group. He astonishes me.

In short, Jesus has redirected me to the common denominator of all of what I have loved best over the past thirteen years, whether leading retreats for all-girls high schools, teaching theology in an all-girls high school, or running my beloved "girls group" in New Zealand. Ministry To Girls. That's my best gift. I'm supposed to use it most.

But there was one other little reminder He whispered in my ear. He hinted that I should get back to writing. I tried to offer Him some fantastic excuses: my four boisterous children, my tutoring, the demands of homeschooling my daughters, the frequent shame and embarrassment I feel when rereading (or just remembering) things I've written for public consumption, and so forth. But over and again He presses into my heart that Christians are losing this culture largely because of the victories hell is winning in the written word. The culture of death (and of darkness, despair and depravity) thrives and grows almost solely off the written word: because of the books written, political speeches made, songs sung, movie scripts brought to life, news stories reported - all of these avenues are essentially the same: ideas put into words so as to shape hearts, thoughts and behavior. By the written word this culture is slipping fast from our fingers and by the written word only shall we reclaim it. The Word redeemed the world and our words must fight alongside His. We pray desperately in the face of this cultural free fall and He responds by inspiring ordinary people to ordinary actions. No matter how pathetic and awkward our efforts, He's asking each of us to contribute our humble gift to the battle. It's a battle for the dignity of every single human person. God, help us.

Jesus, I trust in You!

real presence

Tonight, while reading something about the Real Presence, I realized that the hardest thing about praying (for me) is being really. present.

For five years I have been praying for the grace of gentleness. I thought that once I became a consistently gentle mother, I would be pretty much ready for canonization. A half-decade of grace (plus the devouring of a practical "how-to" manual in the form of that Popcak book) and here I am...more gentle than I ever dreamed I could be and still not ready for the Perfect Mom Award. Alas! A few weeks ago I decided that my next half decade is going to have be dedicated to growing in the ability to be "really present". John Paul the Great - a man who knew how to be really, totally, recklessly present to others- talked often about presence as a necessary prerequisite for being able to receive the gift of the person. I have the gift of five beautiful persons under this roof and I'm not receiving those gifts to the full. I'm also not giving the full gift of myself to any of them.

 I can't count the number of times a day that I realize that baby James has been staring adoringly up at me, grinning with rapt attention and love, while I have been oblivious. This is not a problem that stems from having four children. I remember when all the others were babies, being stopped by older women in grocery stores, department stores and libraries so many times, and being told by these total strangers, "Your baby has been staring up at you with the most beautiful love for the past ten minutes. We've just been watching that baby stare at you." But I had not noticed. I might have been talking absently to the baby, perhaps I handed over a toy or disengaged my hair from tiny clutches....it's even possible that I nursed that baby - all without making direct eye contact or really noticing the tiny person strapped to my chest. Whenever these wonderful old ladies call me out of my stupid stupor, my eyes lock with the baby's eyes and....oh, the smile. The little face lights up with delight, joy! I can't help but feel the same - instantly - love for love, delight for delight, joy for joy. Only, my joy is tainted with a little nagging guilt and regret for being so unaware of all that love and perfect presence directed at me.

I don't work outside the home. I homeschool. So....I'm always "with" my children .... but relatively rarely am I truly with them. I often read books to children cuddled under my arm and pulled close on my lap while my mind stretches far away from them, reminding myself what to do in ten minutes or remembering events from ten years ago. I often listen to their stories with ears that do not hear and admire their artwork with eyes that do not see. I'm so often waiting for them to find something to engage their bodies so that I can slip off into my mind, remaining physically present while my thoughts steal me away.

I never remember why my husband is coming home late because I'm never listening when he tells me. I'm thinking about the fascinating article I just read or the (equally fascinating) one I'm about to write. I don't really always hear what my friends tell me because I'm regretting the stupid thing I said a few minutes back or reselecting the brilliant thing I plan to say next.  And I certainly struggle to hear anything the Lord might want to tell me because there's just so much else going on inside my head. The God of the Universe, King of Glory,  Maker of Heaven and Earth - the One who created me, gave me every good I possess, died for me and will serve as my final judge - THAT PERSON is really present to me and I am distracted. By. Such. Stupid. Nothings.

Did people struggle with this issue as much in ages past - before there was such a daily bombardment of media - all this internet and information and images to fill our heads and rob our souls? I don't know. Did people struggle with this issue as much in ages past - before there was so much busy-ness and rush and scheduling? I don't know. I do know that both of those factor in for me, (along with the problem of having very little practical experience in disciplining the mind). But I also know that "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." That tried-and-proven knowledge gives me perfect confidence that I can and will grow in the ability to be really, fully, soul-fully present to my kids. And my husband. And my God. It's just probably going to take at least five years - or more. In the meantime, what a beautiful thing to practice: looking more often into the eyes of the people I love; shaking off my thoughts - which really means my selfish, self-absorbed little world - to listen to the thoughts of the people I love and enter the wonderful world of "them".

It makes sense to me that the more I practice the habit of being really present to my children, the easier it will become to be fully present to God as well. If I can't practice the presence of Maria, I'll never be able to practice the presence of the Lord (He's a little more subtle than any of my offspring).  I can imagine at the end of my life, the angels coming, nudging me, calling my undivided attention to the KING OF GLORY and saying, "Your God and Savior has been staring at you with the most beautiful love for the past 76 years. We've just been watching Him stare at you." He is just as close as these babes in arms. Nay, closer. And I don't want to wait that long to be shaken out of my stupor. My babies have taught me that.

the vision

Getting this "Support-A-Mom"/Servants of Dignity project off the ground is taking a little longer than I had expected, so I'm just going to share where I'm hoping that it may be headed.

After contacting a lot of agencies that I thought might be somehow involved in the life of women and children who are in a stage of life that comes a few years after the crisis pregnancy has been "resolved" (at least in the eyes of the pro-life movement), I was not really any closer to finding a way to connect with said women. I got the furthest with a shelter for victims of domestic violence. We even had a great face-to-face meeting and bounced ideas back and forth. Although ultimately it came to nothing (more on that in a moment), the conversation was actually really fruitful for me in refining this vision and setting both scope and boundaries for it. I learned that some women will not take their children and leave an abusive man because pets are not welcome at domestic violence shelters and many women are afraid of how a violent partner might visit his rage upon their pet. Although I found that astounding, I was intrigued by the need the shelter coordinators had for temporary pet foster homes. Another very simple need they have is for someone to meet the children of an abused woman for a few hours in a public place (let's say a park or a children's museum) and supervise them while mom goes to court to sort out restraining orders, etc... I was also surprised by how emphatically the shelter coordinators did NOT want regular free childcare offered to the women they help. They had many good and persuasive reasons for this stipulation and I was fully convinced of their wisdom. However, in a practical sense, it all came to nothing for this reason: any involvement in this particular ministry meant real potential danger to the children of any women helpers involved. The shelter directors were concerned about my children and the children of any who might join me in this ministry. They themselves live in real and constant threat of danger from violent men who seek retaliation. By the end of the meeting, it was apparent that this might not be the best angle to pursue.

I felt frustrated and at a loss of where to go from there. Having no other ideas at all, I did the least imaginative thing I could think of: I called the local crisis pregnancy center. Afterwards, I could not recall why that had not been the very first thing I thought of doing. I delivered my spiel to the woman who answered the phone. She was really receptive. She promised to have someone higher up in the pecking order call me soon, but told me it might take a week or more. After I'd nearly given up on hearing back, I did get a phone call. This woman was even more excited than the first woman, but said that the director would have to be involved in something this huge. Naturally, the director was not going to be in the office for some time. So I'm waiting. In the meantime, I'm praying a lot and trying to get a more concrete idea of what it is that I even want to try to communicate.

At this point, my (still foggy) goal is to match up ONE woman interested in the ministry with ONE mother in need of support. To keep things clear, I will refer to the supporting woman as the "Servant" (of Dignity) and the mother in need as the "Mom". So my hope is that the Servant will make a real and long-term commitment in her heart to the persons in this relationship: the Mom and her child/children. Since I'd like this "Adopt a Mom" project to foster long term and authentic friendships, I'd like the pairing up process to be as natural and attractive as possible for both the Servant and the Mom (thereby increasing the chance that the relationship "works" and thrives in the long-term). I'm wondering if we could do sort of a little soiree where potential Servants and potential Moms mingle freely for an hour or two, getting to know each other. At the end, the Moms could possibly indicate on a slip of paper the Servant(s) with whom they felt most comfortable. From there, one Servant and one Mom would be connected. Prior to the "Pairing Up Soiree", there would need to be some kind of presentation made to the interested Moms, sharing about what this project is about and what the scope and boundaries of the relationship would be. I've heard no end of warnings about the essential importance of setting clear and firm boundaries right from the start. The Servants would also attend gatherings (more than one) for formation and direction in this new kind of ministry.  Once the pair was arranged, the possibilities are wide and varied. Because the goal is a real friendship, I think the Mom and the Servant would aim to check in via internet/text/phone once or twice a month and get together for a face-to-face hang out maybe once a month. Perhaps the Servant could accompany Mom and her young ones to a park and the adults could chat while the kids play. If Mom just has a young baby, perhaps Mom and the Servant could go for coffee. As the Servant gets to know Mom and what her unique needs are, the Servant could find small practical ways to be of genuine help: Pray for and/or with Mom. Be a listening ear. Give her an occasional child-free break. Pass on some clothing, books or toys (either gently used or out of the superabundance of brand-new stock many kids receive regularly for birthdays and Christmas). Maybe give a special annual birthday gift to the baby bravely borne. I can't really make a great list of possibilities because each Mom's needs will be different and each Servant's abilities and circumstances will vary greatly. I do see the Servant needing ongoing support and formation in this ministry (because it could get really messy or confusing!), but I really feel hope that there is tremendous potential here as well.

Most crisis pregnancy centers only help out with the practical things (like clothes and diapers) for the first 2 years of the baby's life. In my parenting experience, age 2 is just where the need for practical help begins in earnest! So I'm hoping that this idea can step in to a woman's life just when the pregnancy centers are stepping out. I mean no criticism of the pregnancy centers - they aim to meet a woman's needs for a specific period (the pregnancy and infancy years) and they do so very well!!!  Many babies and women have been dramatically blessed by these ministries. I bet so many more could be if there were other ministries that specifically existed for the post-pregnancy/infancy stages.

I keep praying about this - and praying that if the whole idea is stupid that the Lord will just smash it to bits. But the idea isn't "going away" despite the agonizingly slow pace at which the process drags along. I appreciate prayers - and, if any feel so moved to attempt to contact their own local crisis pregnancy centers with a similar pitch - my desire is for this to be a widespread movement and I'd love to hear from others!

servants of dignity, part 2

I realize that I said that the "next post" would get into the "practicals" of this concept. That post is coming, but probably not for a week or two. I'm in the "information gathering stage" (contacting crisis pregnancy centers, women's shelters, low income school districts; setting up meetings; borrowing other people's small children to "see" what it is actually like to add another tiny child to my day). When a firmer picture emerges, it will be posted.

simple simplicity

This summer I was following a really engaging blog on simple living. The author was attempting to radically simplify and she was eliminating "things" from her life at breakneck speed. It was fascinating! Inspired, I tried to follow some of her suggestions. Following her lead, I eliminated paper towels, paper napkins and dish sponges in favor of cloth napkins, dishtowels and rags. Next I banned aluminum foil, saran wrap and plastic baggies. After that, I replaced most of my cleaning products with things like vinegar or dishwashing liquid. I redoubled my commitment to cloth diapers. I trashed garbage bags, instead using whatever shopping bags accumulated in the house. I ruthlessly ravaged every drawer, cabinet and closet in the house, dumping several car loads of "nice but rarely-used" items at St Vincent de Paul. I thought about this woman constantly (I called her "The Simple Lady") and was really excited about the changes "we" were making to be more simple. The house felt so much more manageable. We were saving a good deal of money. It "felt good" to amp up the simplicity.

Then my "Simple Lady" ditched her microwave. Richard wouldn't let me ditch ours, but we agreed to move it to the basement. I shunned it altogether and he used the clandestine appliance only rarely. He calls it his 'Black Market Microwave'....

Then she got rid of her bed. I thought that was perhaps ridiculous.

Then she stopped using shampoo and started growing dreads.

I gave up. She had me beat.


But I didn't stop following her blog. Every now and then she added something that we mortals could do as well - and if possible, I did. But in December, she suggested that a good way to simplify Christmas - and protect the environment - was to eliminate Christmas lights altogether. That really stopped me dead in my tracks. For the first time I began to wonder what "simplifying" was really all about. If we can't be a little lavish with electricity at Christmas to honor the Incarnation of the Light of the World.....are we really doing simplicity for the right reasons? I finally thought to wonder if growing dreadlocks contributed anything to the world at large?

I had to do a little soul-searching about what my own quest for simplicity was really all about. I came up with a lot of reasons that simplicity is so trendy these days. It's good for the environment. It saves money. It makes our houses tidy and spacious and more like the Beautiful Houses in magazines. It makes us feel good about ourselves (perhaps in a self-righteous sort of way) in contrast to the rampant materialism of our culture. At the very least it assuages some of the guilt of being so deeply implicit in the world of "have" when so many "have not".

Most of those are not bad reasons to desire simplicity....but there has to be a better reason to pursue simplicity. These reasons are not at the heart of Christian simplicity. Live simply so that others may simply live. Yes! But the way I was pursuing simplicity was not really helping anyone else to simply live. Or at least that was not my primary aim in pursuing profound simplicity.

Then Richard and I started looking for a new house. We are renting an adorable, cozy little house with a lovely flower garden in the backyard. In many ways, it is a great fit for our desire to be simple souls. So when the owners decided to put the house on the market, we seriously considered buying the house. For a variety of reasons, that turned out to be an impractical idea and we began looking at all sorts of houses. The house we ended up wanting most was a surprise to us both. In short, it didn't fit our image of "simplicity".

Richard liked it mainly because nothing was breaking inside. Unlike most of the houses we considered, this house had a new roof, a new furnace and a new water heater. There was no foreseeable major expense coming down the pike with this house.  He also liked that in this house, we'd have a bedroom that could accommodate more than just the bed. At present, our queen-size bed takes up the entire room (and blocks the door from fully opening) and if you want to get up in the night for a glass of water, you must grasp the bed, edging carefully around it to avoid tripping over the bodies of various children who have migrated to our floor overnight.

I'm better at not squishing a child in the night than Richard is and so I liked the house mainly because it had a nice backyard and a lake. Three seasons out of four, my kids and I spend mostly outdoors. The whole time I was in New Zealand, I pined for my house back in Pennsylvania. But when we got home, I only got to live in it for three months before we moved again. To my surprise, I don't miss that house at all. I miss the yard. So I was happy to find a house with a lovely backyard where the kids and I can grow sunflowers and strawberries and feed squirrels. It's a great space for setting up a sandbox and a sprinkler for the kids and a porch swing for their parents. The house also is within close walking distance of a long, narrow lake with a paved trail. I'm so excited to walk and bike alone, and with Rich, and with the kids.

Those were the factors that weighed most heavily in favor of the house. We were also excited that the house had a wood burning fireplace (something we've wanted but never had in any of the five homes we've had together since marrying seven years ago....). But both of us hesitated to make an offer on the house because of the feeling that the house was not "simple enough". In reality, it's not an elaborate house. Nothing inside the house is updated or upscale. It's simply newer and more roomy than we'd expected "our kind of house" to be.

I did some soul-searching about why we were considering that particular house and I realized that it was because it seemed to offer our family the most opportunities to enjoy.... the truly simple things in life. It was a space where we could snuggle around a crackling fire in the winter and quietly tend sunflowers in the summer. The traffic-free lake trail would allow us to easily devote family outings to biking and feeding ducks instead of visiting commercial establishments. In the house itself there would be ample space to offer hospitality and create community. Since the vast majority of the families we know now have four children, asking two friends over for lunch on a Saturday means having twelve children and six adults to fit into the house; hosting a daytime women's prayer group has sometimes meant having seven women and sixteen or more children in the house (-it has also meant limiting the invitation list for lack of space). But still - we held back.

Sometime during the month that we hesitated and deliberated about the house, it finally hit me. My idea of simplicity was really....shallow. It was also very vain. And it was (ironically) materialistic. Basically my version of simplicity boiled down to a question of the image that I wanted to possess and/or project rather than the orientation of my heart. It was mostly about the stuff I owned or did not want to own.  Upon seeing the insipid version of simplicity I had been pursuing, I was forced to try to redefine the type of simplicity that I ought to be pursuing. Real simplicity serves persons - both in their need to be welcomed, loved and nurtured by community - and in their need for the material basics. Over the course of a few days, my understanding of the proper pursuit of simplicity was radically altered. The blogs and the magazines may beg to differ, but actually, simplicity is not about things! That is the whole point!

We  can't quantify simplicity by evaluating anyone's material possessions - because real simplicity is about looking at persons instead of things. Real simplicity frees me to forget "things" and my own image - and focus more on Jesus and other people. Genuine simplicity is not the self-serving "virtue" that the magazines imply it is - it must free us to meet the needs of others. Real simplicity welcomes the gift of the person, and sees "things" as a means of making the person comfortable and fostering a sense of community. In contrast, "cultural simplicity" is still about persons serving things and being defined by their things. It might be more apt to call it "elegant minimalism" than real simplicity. Contrary to the blog/magazine version of "simplifying", authentic simplicity has less to do with what stuff is in your home and more to do with who is welcome in the home (and how comfortable and free they feel in that space). It also has much to do with our stewardship of whatever material things the Lord has allowed to pass into our care - how preoccupied we are with obtaining and maintaining things, and how tightly we're holding on to those things in our homes. Are we willing to loan them out? Let a child touch them? Give them away when we realize someone else needs them more than we do? Risk that they will be damaged rather than protect them at the expense of damaging the feelings of another person? Neglect our upkeep or enjoyment of them in favor of being present to persons? Venture away from them in order to serve others and get involved in our community? Deny ourselves the endless desire for the acquisition of more/newer/nicer so as to be able to give more abundantly to those without the basics? I think these are the questions that "simply" beg to be asked.

We bought the house. So we're not perfectly simple people anymore. And it turns out that we never were to begin with. But I pray that the path to perfect simplicity winds around that sweet little lake and through a house bursting with people. I pray that it leads to a place where I can answer all those questions I've just realized that I need to be asking with a resounding "yes!". I pray it leads to a joyful and close knit family - a family that happily foregoes many of our "wants" so as better to be able to supply the "needs" of others. Most of all, I hope it makes me more fully and generously available to Christ and anything He asks of me. Any other kind of simplicity would be simply a waste.