Bread of Life

 Just as it does with everyone else, the time change punked me this morning.  I was wide awake at 4, which is actually 5. Since I had the extra time, I decided to get up and try a new bread recipe, even though I've never been good at bread. I can bake just about everything else, but bread is a skill that still eludes me. 

Once I had all the ingredients mixed together, in the stipulate order and at the stipulated temperatures, I started in on the seemingly-endless process of kneading. I set a timer for a guesstimation of minutes for kneading and started the rhythmic, back and forth, side-to-side pound and sway. 

The thing about bread-making is that it requires patience and just the right baking conditions. One does not just decide to bake bread; one plans to make bread. In other words, one does not just wake up and say, "I want to bake fresh bread for breakfast."  The only ways in which that statement can be true is if A) one gets up at like 3 am, or B) one gets in his/her car and drives to the bakery to purchase a fresh loaf. In bread-making, there is a plan, and it is a plan that unfolds after several steps and the passage of time. 

Likewise, baking conditions count. If the liquid is too cold, the yeast won't activate.  If the liquid is to hot, it kills the yeast. Too much flour, and the loaf becomes a brick.  No salt, and it lacks flavor.  If the room is too cold, the loaf won't prove. And then, there is the arduous process of kneading. 

Kneading has to happen in order in order for bread to happen.  Kneading consists of rolling, punching, twisting, and turning the dough for several minutes.  If s/he didn't know better, a passing observer might think that the baker is angry, given the seemingly violent action. But kneading makes sure that all the ingredients in the bread get evenly distributed. Kneading makes sure that all the ingredients have been exposed to a consistent, warm temperature (from the hands that knead the dough). Kneading traps the little air bubbles that are necessary to create the dance between gluten and yeast that makes a loaf rise. Thus, kneading is necessary; the elusive question is how long to knead the dough. 

This is where the second round of magic happens.  A baker has to pay attention during the kneading process, because the question of length of kneading is based on texture - how it feels in the baker's hands.  A properly-kneaded loaf will feel smooth and elastic. It's easily stretched and leaves a slight impression, almost like a finger to a cushion. A baker does a fair amount of watching in order to gauge this, but truly, the best way to know enough is enough is by feel.  

Why the bread lesson?  Well, it's not about bread at all.  Not really.  

While kneading, I had several minutes in which to ponder. 

Once upon a time, across history eras and geographical locations, bread was life.  Other than meat, it was the only available food, and when meat wasn't available, it was what kept people alive.  A hobo, who had been interviewed for The Great Shake-Up,  a documentary on the 1930s on the History Channel, reported that after asking for some food, a lady told him all she had was bread, to which he replied, "Bread would taste like cake." So in a very real, physical sense, bread is life. 

Bread is also life in the metaphorical sense.  Bread-making requires time and patience. One does not get to fast-forward to the end. S/he has to follow the process, one step at a time.  Likewise, all the necessary ingredients must be there in order for the dough to become a loaf. By themselves, salt and yeast won't make a loaf.  The other ingredients are necessary.  The same is true in life.  Happiness alone does not lead to a quality loaf. Neither do sadness and hardship.  They are all necessary in order for the loaf to become what it was intended to be.

And then there is the kneading process.  In life, we often feel as though we are beat up - we are rolled up in situations we didn't ask for; we are punched - sometimes by situations and words of our own making, and sometimes by being in the wrong place at the wrong time; our words and intentions get twisted; and we get turned around, disoriented by life's curveballs.  When we are in the middle of it, we not only ask "Why?" but "How long will this last?"

I think you already the answer to that question.

The Baker knows what He is doing.  He knows exactly the ingredients needed - and the quantity of each - in order for us to become the end product we were destined to be.  He has the knowledge, skills and wisdom to add them in just the right order, and at just the right time.  The same is true for kneading.  He knows exactly for how long the process must continue. In walking on earth and being one of us for a while, He is well-acquainted, even more so than us, as to the texture of "enough" - He knows what it feels like. When we are in the process, we just need to trust that the Baker knows best.

Will my loaf turn out this time?  Time will tell.  It's still processing.  

Will the Baker's loaf turn out? IF you trust the Baker and let the Him do His thing, you already know the answer to that question. 

Sweet Baby Girl's Lesson

I guess I have been clueless, or naive.  That's not like me.  Usually, I am fairly perceptive. In my own little world, what you see is what you get.  In other words, I don't pretend to be something that I'm not, and I don't lie.  If I like something, I say it.  If I don't like something, I either say it, or keep my mouth shut, but you will know.  I try to live a fairly transparent life, and when I feel as though it's inappropriate or may hurt someone by being transparent, I say nothing at all, and just plain do not engage. My problem has been that I think that everybody thinks similarly - that authenticity and truth is a non-negotiable. 

Not only is this not true; this year has turned out to be the year of hate for me.  Only I haven't been doing the hating.  I have become privy to just how much I am hated.  Ok, "hated" might be a harsh word, but "disliked" definitely applies.

First, work. I've never been popular at work.  That is definitely one place where I have let my opinions be known, mostly because many decisions and mandates have been averse to both staff and students.  As a result, I have no doubt that it has caused me to be the target of dislike. Over the years, it has become increasingly obvious.  While hurtful, I have just muddled through and done my job. My work ethic and integrity are important to me, so I have always done my best.  In addition to professional dislike, there is the personal dislike that accompanies it. I would venture to say that most places of employment are like large middle schools, replete with the cool kids, the loners, and the undesirables.  I know which category I am in, but as time has gone on, it smarts just a little bit more.

I have always said that life is bearable when at least one area of your life is ok.  For example, if things suck at work, but are fine at home (personal relationships), it's a wash.  The same is true in reverse - if life sucks at home, but work is decent, it's bearable.  When both are out of whack, you're in trouble.  Such has been the case this year. 

With regard to my formerly most-trusted interpersonal relationships, I've been told off - both in written and verbal forms, I have been yelled at, I have been disrespected, and I have been dismissed.   I have felt the chill of hostility, and the throbbing pain of betrayal. The expectations from others for me have been unrealistically high, but God forbid, I voice any expectations for others.  Gaslighting? Check. Verbal abuse? Check. Ignored? Check. Manipulation and hostility? Check.  Pick a word associated with fraught relationships. Any word.  I bet I have experienced it this year.  

I'm a strong person, and I have endured much in my life time - especially within the last ten years.  But each time, I have been able to brace myself against the torrent.  I have been close to being knocked down, and I may have faltered or taken a knee at times, but I have never gone down.  But this year?  It's getting pretty damn close. I've lost my equilibrium, and have been backed into a corner.  I feel trapped, and am having trouble finding a way out. As a result, I have been down more than I have been up. 

This morning, I was having a moment.  Waves of grief and sadness kept rolling over me.  I have a friend who is, and has been, fighting an illness since 2009.  It's a serious battle, but each day, she only allows herself ten minutes to be sad or feel sorry for herself.  Then, she puts her grief and sadness on a shelf and goes about her life.  I texted her, "Teach me your ways."  I have not been able to shelve, or compartmentalize, my feelings very well.  I don't know how she does it. 

As another wave hit me this morning, I was on the floor, playing with my granddaughter.  We were arranging the animals in the Fischer Price barn, making all the requisite animal noises to correlate with the barnyard residents.  As we played, my vision blurred as tears overflowed.  One fat tear slid down to the end of my nose.  

Turning to look at me, mouth poised to make a "moo," my granddaughter noticed the tear, stuck out her chubby little finger and swiped it off my nose.  Then, she immediately returned to the cow in her hand. 

How is it that a one-year-old can have more compassion than a whole world of adults?  It's easy for adults to dismiss the sadness around them, or slap a label on someone who is sad. . "Oh, she's just playing the victim again". . .or, "I don't feel sorry for him. He did it to himself." It's far easier to be judgmental than to stop and check in.  Sweet baby girl didn't make a big deal out of it.  She just swiped away the tear, letting me know she saw it, and continued on while staying by my side.  

Matthew 18:3 came to mind: "And He said: Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven" 

Becoming like a little child means being present, in the moment.  Littles don't worry about "later," nor do they dwell on yesterday.  They are right in the here and now.  Likewise, littles are so attuned to the feelings, vibrations and energy that others give off.  

Both of these characteristics are key when it comes to entering the kingdom of heaven as well. No, they aren't requirements in order to GET to heaven.  But they are the fruits of the kingdom of heaven.  If we declare ourselves to be Christ-followers, our lives should bear the fruit of that declaration as well.  

Are things going to get better?  Of course, they are.  Things won't look the same as they did, and all things considered, that's a good thing. Neither will I be the same person. My circle just got even smaller than it was, and I am thankful to be flanked by a fantastic husband and a loyal friend. Even so, God doesn't waste hurts.  These challenges are growth opportunities, and it's up to me to figure out what God wants, and respond in kind.  This, too, shall pass.  

Sweet baby girl's simple action today reminded me first and foremost, that kindness does exist, and that it's most effective and genuine when it's uncomplicated and not overthought. It also reminded me of the value and necessity of being in a single moment at a time.  God has had a lot to say on that, and the lesson to be learned is that lessons are learned in those moments.  I just have to be paying attention. A final reminder is that the condition of the heart trumps the head every time.  I'm not talking about letting emotions drive the bus; that will probably mean an ugly derailment at some point.  However, a pure heart - one connected to the Creator of love - will show me exactly what I need to do at any given moment.  

Keep Going

A bike lock doesn't look like much - it certainly doesn't look like much of an obstacle, until it is.  We were just about done moving Erika's stuff out of her apartment, and there was one object yet to be loaded into the truck:  Her bike.  Unfortunately, she wasn't there, and she didn't know where the key was, so Mike pulled out a grinder and set to work on the lock.  Like I said, a bike lock doesn't look like much.  At a glance, it seems like a couple of good, hard yanks should be sufficient to release the chain and lock.  Not so much.  After a couple of minutes with the grinder (and several askew glances from the residents going in and out of the apartment building), we had freed the bike and were on our way. 

Many people pray for chains to be broken.  Sometimes, it is a chain of addiction.  Sometimes, it is a generational chain to be broken.  Sometimes, it is a chain on habituation.  Sometimes, it is a chain of a default emotion, such as fear or anger.  

I am one of those people who pray about chains.  Many years ago, I prayed for a chain to be broken.  There have been many mornings since that I have prayed the same prayer. . .and then expressed the same frustration. The movement that I expected to be in one direction ended up going in the opposite direction.  This morning could have been one of those mornings, but I actually laughed out loud instead.

I should have known better. This is what made me laugh, not derisively, but with something on the precipice of joy.

First, let's get one thing straight: God. Answers. Prayer. Since He knows our hearts - to the very whisper of our true motivations - He very clearly knows when our prayers are God-honoring and when they are self-serving.  With regard to the former, I see Him high-five me and exclaim, "I got this!" in my mind's eye. It's the "how" and "when" to answering those prayers that He has complete creative license.  Sometimes, our prayers are answered in the way we want, or as we expected.  Sometimes, they are answered completely opposite to what we want or expected.  ALL the time, the answers are in the best, correct, and only way. And NEVER are those prayers ignored.  He knows the right moment, and that is exactly when they will be answered.

Now, back to the chain. Breaking a chain is not an easy task. Duh.  The bike example is proof positive of that.  It required the correct tool.  It requires the correct amount (and often, it's a lot) of pressure, and it requires patience.  That chain and lock have been designed to hold.  Thus, neither is going to give way very easily.  As a result, the breaking process may take multiple efforts and methods, not just a one-time pass.

This is also what has happened with my prayers. Multiple passes.  Multiple efforts. How presumptuous of me to think it would be a once and done.  Not that it couldn't.  God is fully capable of a once and done. But in my case, God knows me, and He knows my arrogant, independent, I-can-do-it-myself heart.  Too soon, and I might risk taking the credit, celebrating "my" success."  I don't blame Him for letting me face-plant my ego and skin the knees of my heart.  Quite the opposite, I applaud His method and appreciate His foresight.  Good parents let their kids experience consequences.  Too late have I realized that it's not the consequence itself that is important; it is how one (the child) processes the consequence that is most important, as it provides the means of character development (and if necessary, change in character). 

Each time the chain holds, I have to re-group and come at the problem with a new approach and renewed energy.  Like Thomas Edison, I have not failed.  I have discovered another way that doesn't work.  This is where the idea of finding the right tool comes in.  THAT ONE didn't work.  Now I need to find/try a new one. 

And this is what made me smile this morning. Through each failure, my heart is changing as well.  Each failure requires me to come back to the drawing board (God's Word). More self-evaluation (through reflection and time spend in prayer). More humility. Patience and pressure will eventually pop the lock, break the link.  Breaking a chain is like a weight loss plan, you need a strong "why," consistency, and the right tools, environment and people for it to work.  

If it honors God, the chains will be broken, no doubt about that.  

The pressure is on.

It might hurt.  It will cause fatigue.  It will be frustrating, but keep going.  Keep going.

Keep going. 

A Different Spin on Shyness and Procrastination.

 I am draw to the antithetical.  Thus, this quote from Oswald Chambers, gave me pause this morning: 

"Shyness is often unmitigated conceit, an unconscious over-estimate of your own worth; you are not prepared to speak until you have a proper audience." 

The same is true of "shyness in inaction," also known as procrastination.  People often say they procrastinate because they don't know what to do or what to say.  I say that's a load of crap.  Anyone with a brain (and last time I checked, that's everyone) has an initial thought about everything.  Often, we have to test-drive the idea against logic and our inner value system.  Once the idea has made it through those crucibles, we have to decide what to do with it.  

For people who procrastinate, the decision to self-sabotage is preferable to risk. In essence, procrastination, and if you subscribe to Oswald Chambers logic (which I often do), shyness, are at their core forms of self-centeredness.  I know that sounds harsh, but it's just calling it what it is without ascribing all the usual connotations associated with the word, self-centered. 

How are these two self-centered?  Logically, it seems the exact opposite. The short explanation is that the one who chooses to be shy, and who chooses to procrastinate, is denying the world an idea or message because s/he has decided that the message or idea (created and inspired for that particular moment in time) is not worth the risk to ego, is not worth the effort to say it, and is not worthy of the world's ears or consideration. 

So does it mean you're a bad person if you're shy or if you procrastinate? If that's all you see, and if that's your first reaction, then you missed my point. It's just a different perspective on a concept, and I just decided to not be shy or procrastinate about sharing it today. 

Seek Him. Period.

 This year, I had a goal to do some thinking and writing in regard to Advent.  It hasn't gone the way I planned, but as usual, my foiled plans have brought me to better places. 

Focus is pivotal when it comes to how we live our lives.  What we see (literally and figuratively) determines where we put our energy. While there are a lot of entities that will lay claim on visualization and mindfulness, Jesus was the first on in on the concept.  There are many verses in the Bible in which He cautions us to be mindful of our thoughts and where we put our efforts (energy). 

This morning, I was reading in Luke 12, and here is evidence of that claim:  

29: "Don't strive for what you should eat and what you should drink, and don't be anxious."

34: "For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." 

Work takes up about a third (and sadly, pushes to take more) of our lives.  Typically, the motivations regarding work are myriad: Earning respect and prestige, leaving a legacy, fulfilling a life's calling or purpose, and of course, earning money. 

That last one, money, is the lubrication for life's joints. It pays the bills for all the necessities such as food, heat, a home to live in, transportation, etc. 

The problem starts when we shift from thinking of it as lubrication to regarding it as lifeblood.  In other words, there are times (and undeniably, it has happened to everyone) when the main focus of our energy and work becomes money - the getting of it and the spending of it.  

Our quest to get more, our misguided ideas that what we are paid to do for work is commensurate to our value, our obedience to the proven fallacy that more money (and therefore, more acquisitions and experiences) equals happiness all consume our focus and energy. In short, work and money become the little altars, one for each eye, that block our vision as to what is most important in life.  Not only does it shift our focus; an unintended consequence is that it also open the door to other joy stealers: Anxiety, jealousy, fatigue, criticism, and so on. But as Jesus said in Luke 12: 23: "Life is more than food and the body more than clothing."

Ok, so what IS most important in life? Well, it depends on the day. In verse 31, Jesus reassures us and challenges us when He says:  "But seek His Kingdom, and these things will be provided for you."  Our true work is to SEEK HIM. Period. 

He literally will take care of the rest - literally and figuratively. In the physical sense, He has promised that these things (food/clothing) will be provided for us (read the surrounding verses in Luke 12 where He talks about wildflowers and birds). 

On a deeper, most important level, when we seek Him, He shows us what He wants and expects us to do.  Sometimes, it's picking up the phone when a seemingly-random face comes to mind with an accompanying urge to call or text.  Sometimes, it's swinging around in line and starting up a conversation with the person behind you because you feel an inexplicable nudge.  And sometimes, it is leaving the unfamiliar for the unknown simply because it's clear to see where God is opening and closing doors.  To live like this requires a shift in focus.  If all we see is work, and all we focus on is money, we miss out on the most important thing in life: Why I was even put here on Earth in the first place.  

It may sound a little too simplistic, but as usual, that's because we humans make it complicated. 

The Trouble with Being "All-Elbows"

“Individuality is self-assertive and independent; it is all elbows.”  I’ve been chewing on that last part for the last couple of days.  

Earlier this week, someone reposted an article about a controversial church practice. The author of the article was fairly opinionated, using some pretty strong language. As it will do, this fanned the flames of the commentary that ensued, some of which was equally strong, and as you can guess, gave me pause to ruminate.

The issue aside, it got me to thinking about how Christianity can sometimes be “all elbows,” boxing out and pushing, forming an impassable boundary or fence. People will argue that they have good (i.e Godly) intentions, mostly commonly called righteous indignation.  By definition, righteous indignation is disgust about and toward what is perceived as a lapse in morality. This has led me to a question: Is this what Christ has called us to do? Does Christ want me to be indignant? 

I’m pretty sure the most common reaction is head-nodding, and I’m not opposed to that. I just like to look at an issue from all sides. Interestingly enough, when I asked myself my own question, I immediately thought of the circumstances in which Christ was righteously indignant.  One that immediately came to mind was Matthew 21: 12-13: “12 Jesus entered the temple courts and drove out all who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves. 13 “It is written,” he said to them, “‘My house will be called a house of prayer,’[a] but you are making it ‘a den of robbers.’[b]”.  And then, there are all the numerous times when Jesus called out the Pharisees and Sadducees. Matthew 23 provides a nifty one. Jesus was never shy about calling anyone out or pointing out flawed morality.  

When the shoe was on the other foot and the disciples tried to do the same thing, that didn’t always end well.  Their righteous indignation was often “corrected” by Jesus.  

For example, In Mark 10: 13-14,  13 People were bringing little children to Jesus for him to place his hands on them, but the disciples rebuked them. 14 When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.“ Oops. Likewise, in Matthew 26,  it reads: “While Jesus was in Bethany in the home of Simon the Leper, a woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, which she poured on his head as he was reclining at the table. When the disciples saw this, they were indignant. "Why this waste?" they asked.“This perfume could have been sold at a high price and the money given to the poor.” 10 Aware of this, Jesus said to them, “Why are you bothering this woman? She has done a beautiful thing to me. 11 The poor you will always have with you,[a] but you will not always have me. 

The bottom line is this: Through whatever means and ways He decides (Scripture, the Holy Spirit, circumstances, etc), God takes care of the “do this and don’t do that,” which means my job is to love people to Christ. How do I know? That’s what Scripture tells me. In Mark 12: 30-31, I’m told to 30 Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’[a] 31 The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’[b] There is no commandment greater than these.”  Likewise, in I Corinthians 13:13, I’m reminded “13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” As far as I know, that’s pretty much Christianity in a nutshell.

That said, I don’t think I can do that very well if I’m “all elbows.” Is it my job to uphold the Godly values of Christ that I read in Scripture? To that, I would answer yes.  But I think I the “how” behind that answer also matters. 

To explain, I’ve worked with teenagers (including my own kids once upon a time) long enough to know that when you tell them not to do something, they will, of course, do it.  When you explain the why behind the no, that sometimes tips the scales in your favor.  When you have a relationship with them, which means you listen to and validate them ( (not to be confused with condoning their actions), you now are in the sweetest spot of all with regard to influence (and if the situation requires it, obedience/compliance). 

In other words, if I’m “all elbows,” I’m sending a strong message, one that is not effective in producing, building, or nurturing relationships, which is the starting line of what I believe  my life’s purpose to be:  To love others as Christ taught me, so I can “go to heaven and take as many people as I can with me.” Obviously, only Christ is a change maker, and only He decides who will join Him one day in heaven, but clearly how I act and how I treat others definitely has an impact on the situation.

The question then is: Do I want to be “all elbows,” which honestly feels aggressively pugilistic, or do I want to be “all ears” instead? I’m not a theologist; I’m just trying to figure out how to do life the way He wants and expects me to.

Life's Purpose is a Dog's Life

As is the case most days, I was absentmindedly stroking Juno's fur as I did my devotions this morning. No matter where I sit, she always plunks herself on my right side. In fact, she is there right now.

I'm prone to flare-ups, but not the kind of flare-ups you think of when you hear that term. Mine are more life flare-ups - like, questioning the decisions I have made or are making in life.  Lately, I have been in the midst of another overly-angsty flare-up. Tipping over the 50 mark has increased the frequency of such flare-ups. Turning 50 does not mean "Game Over," but realistically, it does mean "Game Over" for certain things in life.  It means getting serious about which "somedays" need to still become "nows," and making them happen. All this has ushered in a lot of self-examination regarding my career choice, accomplishments, relationships, etc.   

As I was contemplating, I looked over at June.  She has lived 15 years, 5 months, and 23 days, and to my observation, she has been perfectly content for all of them. Her only job, and one that she has done very well, has been to be a pet to our family, and a companion to whomever wants one.  Fortunately, she chooses me (I suspect that feeding her moves me to the top of the list). 

Not once have I seen her fret about having missed the purpose of her life.  How do I know?  Well, she just lives it.  Everyday.  

Juno follows me around, everywhere I go (including the bathroom). She is by my side - during the good times of laughter and fun, as well as the yelling, puking, or bawling times; she has hiked with me through pouring rain and sprawled out during kayak rides; she has kept crazy hours (up at 4? Sure!), and through crazy conditions.  

And not once has she whined, quit, or backed down.  She just shows up and does what she was meant to do - be a companion.  (Although, these days as an old lady, if she doesn't want to, she doesn't. She is 100% comfortable just being June.)

It dawned on me that Juno, and most pet dogs, for that matter, are showing us humans the sweet spot of life - life as God intended.  We (ok, maybe it's just me) are too busy - worrying about the unknown and uncontrollable, investing energy in places of questionable return or importance, patching relationships more than building them, ultimately trying to be someone who will leave a mark in history.  

While we are doing all that, we are missing the very thing we want so badly - our life's purpose, which is: 

To be a companion,

To be by God's side,

To be 100% focused on Him.

To live our moments going where He goes to do what He does, as He asks us to do. 

That's the sweet spot of life. And that's when all the other importance of all the garbage that brings us no joy - money, fame, achievements, endless busywork - melts away.  We now have peace and are content to just be present and available for the one we trust and adore the most.  We exist solely to bring Him joy, and as a result, we bring others joy too.  

Even though Juno's days on Earth are fewer than those she has already spent here, she doesn't care or worry about it.  She just does, and will continue to do, what she does best: Be a faithful, loving, always-ready companion.  

I think that's what God asks of me too.