When a Nashville friend of mine discovered Facebook – the first group she joined was entitled thus

“If you love a Southern woman raise your glasses; if you don’t, raise your standards.”

As I watched the Blind Side, that statement rang through my head repeatedly. The Blind Side recounts the true story of Michael Oher, now footballer for the Baltimore Ravens. Growing up in Memphis, Tennessee, Oher’s mother was a drug addict. He’d received little help or attention in his childhood, staying in a number of friends homes, and had been consistently passed on and ignored in the education system. His background bore the classic marks of a forgotten young man who could ultimately become a crime statistic.

Against social conventions, Sean Tuohy and his wife Leigh Anne took him in, and employed a tutor to help him secure his grades and eventually become Oher’s adoptive family. It’s an amazing story of how a family and Leigh Anne in particular  was prepared to fight for was needed, no matter how confrontational or uncomfortable for those involved – all for the sake of one young life. Leigh Anne (played by Sandra Bullock) was strong and assertive, warm, but not the kind of woman to be messed with. She wasn’t afraid to confront her friends’ bigotry, to ask difficult questions even of herself, to move from questions to action, to take in a stranger and raise him into a man and a son. Faith that is lived.

When you read interviews of Leigh Anne Tuohy in person, you see that Sandra Bullock captured her well. You’ve gotta love a Southern woman like that. Raise your glasses, indeed. 

Leaving the movie I reflected on how much investment people need to become all they were created to be, and how difficult it is when they are not given opportunity. Can we ever mentor without sacrifice? Can we invest in generation without a fight? And can we penetrate the broken communities of our cities, without inviting people into our lives, families, potentially even our homes? In Oher’s case, his life was transformed, with the help of people, teachers, friends, families who were prepared to be more than sympathetic, but were determined to get involved.

Who are we called to, where are we drawn to get involved?  Whose lives are we called to today?

Where does our faith live?

I am not into the Princess thing, but I have two preschool daughters so I am hardly going to avoid it. I’m just accepting it as a phase that too will pass. But it was a no brainer that I was taking them to see the Princess and the Frog.

I’d heard a few negatives about it actually. Why did the first African American Princess have to be the one turned into a Frog? Was the Prince not African American for a reason? How could it be set in New Orleans forgetting Katrina and all the racial politics within? Does it just play into old stereotypes and ignore reality?

It’s always difficult being the first, the one breaking new ground. The weight of expectations and longing, of righting perceived or real wrongs, the pressure to be definitive, to heal to communicate to represent can be immense. So much so that we can forget that its very presence IS a breakthrough, IS a success. We forget the transformative power found in simply by what we see.

So what did I see? I liked the New Orleans of the movie. Alongside the more nostalgic style of animation was a New Orleans of old; vibrant with music and hospitality, whilst still revealing the racial inequities of its time. I saw a young black woman who was vibrant, hard working, sacrificial and ambitious- but who chose integrity and character even at the expense of her worthy personal dreams. She did fall in love with a Prince  (this is still Disney folks, not social commentary) but did so whilst he was a frog. It’s a good story. My personal negative: the Shadowman bugged me; I get bored of the spiritual component of some of the Disney villains, and I’m not convinced it’s necessary. And perhaps an opportunity was missed with Prince from a place that didn’t exist, or was the interracial relationship even more groundbreaking? Discuss.

I liked what my daughters saw.  The bad guy lost. The good girl won. Good choices, good character won. And Tiana was the ebony skinned star of the story. They don’t need a cartoon character to be a role model, their parents are ready for that job. But I love that as they grow up they see increasing amounts of diversity; in politics, in the Supreme Court, in commercials, and on the silver screen. Different won’t be so exotic or “other”; they’ll see themselves everywhere, and that matters.

Don’t underestimate the affirming power of simply what you can see.

Samuel took a single rock and set it upright between Mizpah and Shen. He named it “Ebenezer” (Rock of Help), saying, “This marks the place where God helped us.” 1 Samuel 7:12

The day is done. Thanksgiving is over.  We’ve had a day to look around the table and be grateful for what we have, to celebrate the goodness in our lives, to thank God.  But as the day wore on, Black Friday and its promise of mega bargains in the early hours of the morning moves us on. Before we know it we’re thinking of Christmas gifts and budgets and decorations and stuff and life all over again. Some shops even broke into the day itself, opening at 10pm Thanksgiving night with the promise of bargains worth leaving your pumpkin pie for.  Perhaps it’s a bizarre thought, but we need something more permanent than one holiday and an amazing meal to be thankful.

Samuel found a way to make something permanent out of a thankful moment. They understood the human condition; that it’s so much easier to remember and feel those bad times than the good. So he made an Ebenezer. It was a solid way (literally) to remember God, a physical point of reference. Whenever they looked at the rock, they were reminded of God’s goodness and greatness.

A huge rock may not exactly work for us today, but it’s great to find tangible ways to remember who God is, what he has done.  Not just the general things, but more pertinently the way God’s goodness and greatness has weaved its ways through the story of our lives. We need those reminders for the tough days, the mundane times, when temptations tantalize with a strangely rational appeal.

In our family we have an Ebenezer wall – where we gather the testimonies of each year with God. When life is challenging, I’ll be found there, poring over the photographs and cards that will tell me the God who stood with me then, stands with me now. In the good times when I pass by the wall – I’m reminded of whom to thank, and I’m humbled again. Our Ebenezer helps us to develop a thankful life.

How do you mark the place where God has helped you?

Here I raise my Ebenezer;
Hither by Thy help I’m come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger,
Interposed His precious blood

(Robert Robinson 1757)

Frank and April dreamed of being something and being “somebodies”. They felt and wanted to be different from everyone else. Yet as time went by, and life happened to them, they learned that they were, like everyone else, simply human and ordinary.  Frank might have been a dreamer once, but in the end he really was a corporate man like his father, and he didn’t want another adventure. April, who once planned to be an actress, but didn’t succeed, wrestled with the bubbling passion for more in her life, juxtaposed with the grinding sense of ambivalence and failure as mother. And the world she lived in seemed to suffocate her and deny her the world she longed for. The revelation broke them into a million pieces. Arguments ended up in relational cul de sacs, responsibilities bred resentment, and disappointments led to desperate selfish acts of infidelity, as if they were narcotics to numb the pain of seemingly futile lives.  April ultimate desperate act was to attempt to abort the unborn child that seemed to stand in the way of her dreams and their shared future, and the attempt cost her her life.

To me it was more than a great film, with some of my favorite actors. Even though it was set in a different era, there was something timeless about it’s explorations of life and relationships which I found made it staggeringly relevant in today’s culture.  It wasn’t just the revelation that not everyone’s dreams are fulfilled. Even in this age of American Idol, and lottery tickets to a new life, somewhere in us we still know that we can’t always get to do what we want. What got me in this film was this couple had to reckon with the fact that they weren’t who they thought they were or who they hoped each other would be, and they couldn’t find a way to deal with the textured, complexity of ordinary life. And extraordinary dream is one thing; you can shape and control your hopes and expectations, your relationships and responsibilities.

But ordinary life? Who has the emotional capacity, the mental rigor the physical energy for that? Who knows how to handle life? If we did we probably wouldn’t have half the Supernanny, What not to wear, how clean is your house type shows that disciple us on how to live, would we?  Perhaps we are rudderless, visionless, after all – we didn’t learn this kind of stuff in school or college. That was about what you were going to be when you grew up. Now we’re here we have to work out how to be grown up whatever our landscape looks like. We all need signposts to that road

There’s much more to say and to think on this. In another post, I guess.

So I guess this is one of the more famous passages in the Bible about the Christian life.  One that is quoted often, usually in relation to discipline and it’s certainly helpful in that way. But I’ve been thinking about it a bit with a different slant.  My question has been ‘What is the race? What is the prize?’

I’ve concluded, for now, that it’s not a race to be the best Christian possible, it’s not a race to be the most ‘holy’, the most disciplined, to have the biggest ministry. Rather it’s a race to lay your life down for the sake of the Kingdom.  It’s one of those upside-down Kingdom things.  We’re not racing to be first but to be last (“But many who are the greatest now will be least important then, and those who seem least important now will be the greatest then“ Matt 19:30).  We run and discipline ourselves for the benefit of others, for the glory of the King and for people who don’t know God, for those who need Him and need us to play our part.

I think perhaps most fundamentally of all it’s a race to develop deep relationship with our heavenly Father.  Deep, in that it penetrates our whole lives and consequently gives birth to an abundance of Kingdom life.  Deep, because it goes beyond the surface, beyond the immediate issues or situations we face, and grows into a deep, lasting, immovable peace and joy, fuelled by the love of the Father.  The sort of relationship which sustains you in the face of grief, stress, uncertainty, hardship.

So, why are you running?  What is the prize set before you?  Run to win!

Matthew 11:28–30

This is one of those well worn passages that speaks again and again.

Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest… who doesn’t identify with that diagnosis of the state of their lives sometimes? Wearied and burdened, by stresses, responsibilities, relationships.  Who doesn’t want a break sometimes? Jesus offer of rest speaks deeply to our souls. And it would be easy to end there, knowing that whenever we are overwhelmed, he gives us a way out.

But he offers us more, so much more than that.

Take my yoke upon you…

His rest does not mean life is void of responsibility.  We still have responsibilities and relationships that we’re invested, committed, yoked to. Only this time, they are the ones Jesus has called us to and with that given us the grace for. So it’s not a responsibility we’ve acquired because we’re unable to say no; nor is it a relationship we’re investing in out of people pleasing or co-dependence. His rest is a yoke that is easy. Not easy in the way we understand easy today (if we think that then we expect our God given relationships and responsibilities to be problem free – that is not what the text says!).  Here easy means custom made, well fitting – a yoke placed on us by Jesus himself. It’s interesting that there’s still a burden too, but a light one that can be carried.

Take my yoke upon you…

There’s an offer but we need to embrace it. We can’t take on His yoke whilst clinging to our own. We’ll need to let go first…

And learn from me…

This is what struck me the most this time around.  Jesus offers me more than a break and some “me time’.  He invites me into a new way to live. And I don’t even have to get it because it’s not something I achieve; instead I learn as I walk through life with him.

Everybody get’s overwhelmed at some point. All of us wish there was a map, a book, that helped us navigate dating, work, marriage, parenting. What I’m discovering as I explore this verse again, is no, I don’t have a blueprint for life. But I have One who gave me relationships and responsibilities, a yoke that fits and a burden that is light. And I have an invitation to walk with Him and learn how to do life in all its complexity, His Way.

Psalm139:14 MSG

This weekend’s Guardian newspaper (UK) featured an article about some models, who were healthy and glowing. Yet what struck me most was the understanding in the fashion world that UK size 12 and 14 (US 8 – 10) is now considered PLUS SIZE. The US Edition of Glamour magazine featured a model named Lizzie Miller a few months back, looking relaxed and happy. The picture created a media storm not because Lizzie was naked, but because this 5ft 11, size 12 14 US (16- 18 UK) somehow considered too large for plus size modelling had a little tummy roll. The media storm was a positive one, broadening the definition of beauty, reminding us about how out of whack our collective body image has become.

The PLUS size idea has always bugged me. “PLUS” suggests unusual when in reality these sizes have reflected the size of the average woman; plus suggests anything other than NORMAL. And now it’s just beyond bizarre. A friend of mine once reflected that back in her day after you had children, a woman’s body was expected to change, all they suggested were kegel exercises. Today she said “young mums are expected to look like they’ve never had children, like they’re supermodels”. The idolization of youth in today’s Western world means it never stops. 40’s the new 20. 50’s the new 30.  No pressure then.

So where do we stand as the world suggests we get thinner and thinner to be “normal”? Are we able to critique, to resist, the messages our culture communicates? The verses from Psalm 139 speak of the kind of perspective the Bible encourages us to have about our bodies. Yet embracing God’s word is often a fierce battle in a culture that presents underweight bodies, airbrushed images and botoxed faces as something to aspire to. And then there are the internal pressures – the tapes playing in our heads that still tell us, compel us to want the “perfect” body. However, what the voice neglects to tell you is that perfect is getting smaller and is starting to resemble a pre pubescent boy.

I try to be healthy and fit. But there’s also some tummy fat, left over from having children that seems to love my company. Dimpled thighs, grey hair … am I still marvellously made?

I believe this is a must win battle for us Christian women. We need to know who we are, and know we’re OK.  Life’s too short to live regretfully in front of a full size mirror. Is it time to slay the idol of youthful looks, and allow our bodies to simply change and mature? Then, maybe begin to allow the Lord to tell us his definition of NORMAL when it comes a woman’s shape and size. And since we’re salt and light in this world, let’s tell the truth to the  women  around us too, that  body and soul, we’re marvellously made.

 This man’s condition completely defined his life. He was socially alienated, isolated and vulnerable, and unwell. All that was left was to reach out to Jesus; there is no one else, no other hope, it’s desperate. He brings a simple, almost - request, more a statement really – Lord if you are willing… you can make me clean. He knows what Jesus can do, that He has the authority and power to change his life forever.

Yet for some reason, he’s not confident He will. Perhaps it’s the years of isolation, the rejection. He’s just used to people not wanting to know. Maybe it’s a prayer he’s cried out for years, and nothing happened. Whatever the reason, though he’s confident of Jesus’ power, he’s not confident that Jesus wants reach to him. So the man’s words remain an almost request, a statement latent with longing.

 My heart so identifies with this verse so often at the moment! When the pressure is on and circumstances stubbornly refuse to change, when I’m longing for a breakthrough, I wonder if the Lord, notices…me. I know you can God. I know you provide, heal, restore, and deliver. I’ve seen you do that countless times for others. But do you want to do that for me? Can I ask you to do that, only for …me?

As I think about it, I remember that challenging times test not only my confidence in His power, but also in His love. I know He is Lord and King, but He is also  my Heavenly Father. It something I have to remind myself  of, no matter how  tough itis to reconcile with my circumstances.

I wonder where you are desperate, on your knees. Does disappointment suggest to your heart and mind that your Heavenly Father doesn’t see you anymore, that he has forgotten you now? You know He’s able, but is He willing?

 Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. “I am willing,” he said. “Be clean!” And immediately the leprosy left him.(Luke 5:13 TNIV)

I love that Jesus touched him, spoke to him, and healed him.

When I read of His touch it reminds me that He is not distant, that he reaches out to us and reaches into our world, even when it’s not whole. His words, remind me that he is compassionate, and that His words can give us life in tough times and remind us that we are loved. His healing reminds me that though the battles are intense, and my prayers aren’t  always answered immediately, Jesus is still the God of the breakthrough. What do you need to be reminded of today? His touch? His words? Or His healing?

Where is your focus?  As you go through life what is it that defines the way you see the world?  Colossians talks about setting our sights on the realities of heaven.  Often I forget this and get consumed and distracted by the realities of earth.  It’s so easy to do isn’t it?  The things right in front of us that need doing or attending to – the relationships, the work, the tasks, the just-getting-by.

But when our life becomes defined more by earthly things than by what God says we might begin to struggle.  The magazine that tells us we should be thinner vs. God saying we’re beautiful; the boss who demands greater achievement vs. God who says we don’t need to achieve anything to be acceptable to and loved by Him; the culture which says we need to consume and own things in order to fit in vs. God who says that real life is not measured by how much we own (Luke 12:15).

Setting our sights on the realities of heaven requires hope and faith – and we often feel it’s risky because heavenly realities are unseen.  But the more you get to know the nature of our Father and his character, the more that risk is easier to take and the easier it becomes to see things from God’s point of view.

Today let God show you where you’ve become more defined by an earthly reality rather than a heavenly one.  Agree with Him now to set your sights on the realities of heaven and to seek out what that means in your reality.

It wasn’t long before I saw the parallels with my own spiritual life. On one level, this life laundry is integral to it because the process is bringing things to the surface that I have to resolve

But it also makes me think of the rooms of my life, my heart. It makes me reflect on how much room there is for Jesus, and how much it’s clogged up with stuff, just stuff. I’m too busy, too tired, too frustrated. I’m hurting, in my anger I got  bitter, I’ve got self centered or greedy. Without even realizing, the doors to the rooms in my heart can barely open. All I can offer are the rooms I keep neat and tidy in order distract him from the rooms I don’t want him to see. He wants the freedom to move around the home of my heart freely; can I let him in? Sometimes I’m too scared or ashamed. But sometimes, there is room. There is space and he sweeps through the room with light and life, making the room fresh and brand new. Just like he did a few weeks back with reconciliation. Just like he’s done with answered prayers.  And I wonder how I’ve allowed myself to miss out on all that his freedom can bring.

In the meantime, my life laundry continues one piece of clutter at a time. But with the hope and the intention that one day, eventually, my home will look and feel brand new, and there will be room to live.

It seems that Jesus wants the same for my life and heart, one room at a time. Fresh, brand new, room to live.