beingbeckster

So I’ve been out of the office for three weeks on maternity leave. While I miss what I do and the family I work with, this has been an incredible time of learning and growing and re-evaluating my life, my passions, my ministry goals, and my relationships.

Being out has forced me to take my hands off the many things I thought I had to do. In so doing, it has allowed others (namely, my student leaders) to explore their passions, to lead, and to find joy in serving and doing the things that I held on to. It’s also forced me to take a step back and realize that I had very much identified myself and derived self-worth from what I could do rather than Whose I am. I’m not sure who I was trying to impress, but I’m learning to just BE with God, and BE with my family, instead of DOING all the time.

It’s also forced me to see that up until this point, I was really neglecting what should have been my first ministry: my marriage. And with the new element of parenthood in the mix now, I have to be more and more purposeful about valuing my husband through my time, my schedule, and my actions. God has blessed us even through what seemed like terrible circumstances (Chris broke his arm on Mother’s Day and has been off of work on disability since then); we’ve had lots of time together and with our little girl, and it’s allowed a clean start to put some very foundational things in place for each other.

When it comes specifically to youth ministry, this time away is giving me a chance to redefine what my role looks like, to have more clarity about the few things God is really asking me to do. My heart is breaking anew for hurting kids, and it is pulsating with passion for our student leaders and their relationship with the Lord. I feel strongly that mentoring a student is a new direction that God is asking me to put some time into. I’ve mentored before, but it’s never been a priority to me or to the student who asked me to do it, so a true relationship hasn’t been built. But knowing I can’t touch every kid also instills in me a new responsibility to step up and lead other adults who can. This has been an area where I’ve had insecurities in the past, but I’m ready to cast those aside now.

Lastly, my absence has allowed me to step away for a while and really look from the outside-in again at Celebrate and ministry. Sometimes when you’re so close to something, you lose your ability to really see it and appreciate it. I’d allowed myself to get so caught up in my to-do lists and day-to-day tasks that I lost sight of the vision and reason behind it. Looking at it now, I am so grateful for my family there. I’m so blessed by the leadership. And I’m on fire again for the vision: reaching thousands for Christ. There’s not another place like Celebrate in the whole world, and I’m humbled and honored that God has called me to be a part of something so amazing. Not only does gratitude flow anew from my heart, but the responsibility I have to steward my gifts and bring my A-game weighs on my shoulders. Complacency is not an option. I think of a scene from Facing the Giants that we’ve used many times in youth ministry:

“I want God to bless this team so much people will talk about what He did. But it means we gotta give Him our best in every area. And if we win, we praise Him. And if we lose, we praise Him. Either way we honor Him with our actions and our attitudes. So I’m askin’ you… What are you living for? I resolve to give God everything I’ve got, then I’ll leave the results up to Him.”

I’ve heard it said many times: “be careful what you pray for…you may be surprised how it’s answered.” Pray for patience and God will give you opportunities where patience is required. Pray for more faith and God may give you opportunities where your faith is tested. I’m not sure that phrase is biblical, but it does seem to be ringing true during this time in my life.

I’m a control-freak, and though many times I’ve said “Lord, you can have all of me”, I find myself compartmentalizing my life and saying, “You can have this part. I’m doing fine here.” I’ve held on to things with shaking, white knuckles and God, who has been so patient, is now gently (or not so gently) prying them from my fingers.

For one, my life timeline…all the things I thought I’d accomplish and all the things I thought would wait, God has turned upside down. I went from telling my girls’ small group, “I want to wait until I’m thirty to have kids” to two weeks later–”I’m pregnant.” And this living being is dependent on me and my body and my time to help it thrive and grow. And it’s already changing my time, my ministry, and my priorities. I’ve not been grateful about this. I’ve looked at this blessing that God is giving my husband and I…and I’ve been resentful because it’s changed everything. And then I’ve been wracked with guilt as I watch friends who want so desperately to have what we have.

It threatens to change my ministry and my priorities. The very ministry God Himself gave me, and I’m trying to hold onto it for myself. It reveals to me some of my true motives–like maybe I’ve not been in youth ministry for the kids as I’d convinced myself I was. Maybe I desire to be the one kids think is “cool”. Maybe I look to be the one kids can call at 2 a.m. to validate myself. While I have to believe that being a parent will make me even better at youth ministry–I wonder and fear how to balance parenthood with the time I’ve put into youth ministry. Perhaps I should not look at the two things as competing, but complimenting…but I’m not sure how that will work out yet.

This child will require all of me. This child, this gift from God, deserves all of me. And I’m learning that I still try to do everything in MY power (not God’s), which is why the thought of “adding” more is frightening. May God expand my heart, diminish my control, and increase my reliance on Him.

*This was a draft I’d written in May. I post what I started only to give an idea of where I’ve been.*

I walked in the door of my house yesterday to find shades pulled, lights dimmed, and a box of saltines opened and lop-sided on the counter. Chris is home. Again. I peered out the window to find his car hadn’t moved from the place I’d parked it that morning. He didn’t go to work again today. Migraine.

I walked up the stairs and found what I was anticipating. He was in bed with a pillow over his head. And I am angry.

I’m angry, mostly at the migraine, but also at him. See, we’ve been treating these and there was hope. Frequent chiropractic care allowed him to have nearly 4 months without a headache. But lately the migraines are back–almost 3-4 a month. And he hasn’t been going in for adjustments. Yes, I’m angry at the migraine and how it invades his head and our lives, but I’m angry at how Chris allows it to take him, like he’s sunk in some quiet desperation with no will to fight them, treat them, try something new.

I’d had a rough day of my own. I’m battling a cold that allows me only a couple hours of sleep each night for the past week, when combined with the heartburn and sore muscles I feel from being pregnant. I imagine my own bad day only exacerbated the situation. I need to talk. I need to have some sort of control over this. Our first baby comes in 2 months, and my husband will not have time to take off to spend with our new child. And this year, like every other for the past five, he will be out of paid time off by August, meaning every sickness and migraine after that will be unpaid. Which we cannot afford. And if baby is sick–then what?

I try to talk to him, but all that comes out from him are mumbles and grunts. He wants to sleep he says. For a few moments I sit at the edge of the bed and hold back tears. I nudge him one more time with no response. I get up and storm downstairs.

I don’t know why my first instinct is always to take my frustration out at the technology in our home. Probably because that is most often where Chris is tethered. It is most often his retreat when he doesn’t want to deal with something. I resent it. We’ve had more fights about XBOX and World of Warcraft than any other thing in our relationship. My thought is that when he wakes up the first thing he’ll want to do is drown his sorrows in pixelated battles. So I yank out the cord for the XBOX and toss it haphazardly into a box in our storage room. I’m not concerned about hiding it well, it’s the principle of the thing. I also put a password on his computer so that he can’t log in until talking to me about it. It’s juvenile really, my reaction to all of this…probably heightened by third trimester hormones. I know that as I do these things I’m being childish.

But in my mind it comes down to one thing–CHOICE. Surely he will find the XBOX–that’s not the point. Will he, after knowing I’ve ripped it out of the wall, take the extra steps to hook it back up so he can go back to non-reality? It’s symbolic really. In my mind, if he has the initiative to do this but not the initiative to take care of himself, I will know. I will know what?

These are the things I know. My husband no longer dreams anymore. He is generally dispassionate about anything. I never wanted to marry a career guy. I’ve never cared how much money we’ve made as long as we can pay the bills. I don’t care if there’s any amount of prestige in what he does. I fell in love with him because of his passion (even when it was displaced in my mind). If he were excited to get up every morning to make widgets, I would be ecstatic for him. But somewhere along the way (and maybe due to some fault of my own), he forgot how to dream. How to fight. How to try. How to choose. And he allows outside factors to make his choices for him. The migraines, and life in general, have worn him down. So when there’s a hint of adversity he caves and goes back to what he knows–a head under a pillow, and ear connected to a headset at a job he hates, an alternate reality where he can control things with little to no effort required. Meanwhile a life is waiting for him to take it and make something of it. I am waiting for him.

Everyday Greatness is an inspiring volume of short stories from both recognizable celebrities and leaders and ordinary, everyday people. Honestly, I was expecting something different with Stephen Covey’s name on it, but if understood as it is, a compilation, it is indeed an enjoyable read.

I appreciated the organization of the book into virtues that, if truly lived out, lead to everyday greatness. It makes it easy when wrestling with a particular subject to go back and receive inspiration. The wrap-up and reflections at the end of each chapter make for a nice way to re-articulate the principles in the story. These lend themselves to further contemplation and practical application in one’s own life. However, I personally didn’t find Covey’s intermittent commentary particularly edifying to the book or the points made by the stories.

While I wouldn’t choose to read the entire book cover-to-cover again, it would be a great night-stand or coffee table book to read on occasion. Filled with quotes and palatable examples of putting the illustrated principles into practice, it would also serve well as a sermon or teaching supplement. If read as a whole, it can get a little fluffy and superficial. I believe a book of this kind would be best digested in small bites, where you can savor the message.

Sometimes I feel like God leads us down paths and then shuts doors in our faces, perhaps only to see if we’d trust Him enough to go down that path in the first place, despite the ending. I’ve seen it happen in my own life and most recently in the lives of my closest friends. It’s enough to make me throw up my hands and say, “God what are you doing?”

And it’s then I have to realize–that’s the exact question He’s been waiting for me to ask. What are YOU doing, God? How do You want me to fit in that story? Sometimes I wish His story was a paint-by-number–I wish I could see the ending and see where all the colors and shapes go before I paint them. Or maybe it’s a puzzle…perhaps it’s not about seeing the puzzle all put together, but watching God hand-select the pieces (our pasts, the people, the circumstances) and fit them all together to accomplish His purpose.

I wonder if the left-turns in my life haven’t been left turns at all, but God gently guiding my eyes and my head from the path and the ending I expect, and back to Him.