Showing posts with label right. Show all posts
Showing posts with label right. Show all posts

Day 5: RIGHTEOUS (+ Rituals vs. Relationships)


Each day during The PURSE-onality Challenge: "A Holiday-Ready Heart" in October, Untangling Christmas by Karen Ehman and LeAnn Rice, will be our give-away prize!  

Enter via the Rafflecopter at the end of the blog post or click here to enter!



How It Works (via Bullet Points & Videos!)
Day 1: LOVED (+ 2 Vital Questions to Ask NOW)
Day 2: CHOSEN - Making Right Holiday Choices
Day 3: COMPLETE (+ 5 Gift-Giving Questions)
Day 4: PURE (+ Goodbye, Ghosts of Christmas Past)



Starting Our Own Traditions

For our very first Christmas as newlyweds, Daniel and I didn’t visit his family or mine. Instead, we wanted to start our own family traditions. 

Anxious to be a good wife and do everything “right” for our first Christmas together, I got up early that morning and started cooking enough food for an army. 

Once Daniel was awake, I asked him the all-important question of the day:

“What time do you want to eat?”

He replied, “I don’t care.”

I was stunned by such an unthinkable response. Clearly, he had misunderstood my question, so I spoke more clearly the second time I asked, 

“What time do you want to eat?”

He enunciated his repeated response with equal care:

“I. Don’t. Care.”

With more patience than I felt a Choleric should ever be required to demonstrate, I gave this man I’d promised to love, honor, and cherish one last chance:

“What time do you want to eat?”

This time, his response came out as one exasperated word:

“IDON’TCARE.”

Fine. I’d had enough, too!

“Then we’ll eat at three o’clock.”


Christmas Dinner My Family’s Way

I cooked and baked for hours, keeping my eye on the clock and wishing I had the double-decker ovens that gave my mother such an unfair advantage. Still, I was determined to have all hot foods on the table hot and cold foods on the table cold between 3:00:00 and 3:00:30, just as she’d raised me to do.

At 2:45, Daniel laid down on the couch. 

By 2:50, he was asleep. 

Not just “resting his eyes” asleep. Deep, snoring-up-a-storm asleep.

I was dumbfounded but undaunted.

At 2:59, I woke him up, telling him, “It’s time to eat,” and at 3:00:10 I started serving.

Daniel came to the table, ate a few bites of everything on his plate, and -- true to his Phlegmatic nature! -- at 3:04 laid back down on the couch. By 3:05, he was snoring again.

I will spare you my reactions, both as his napped and after he woke up. Suffice to say: I shed tears. And we had words.


Christmas Dinner His Family’s Way

The next year, we decided to join Daniel’s family for Christmas. Imagine my surprise when several family members showed up, unannounced, around 8:30 in the morning, bearing a couple of casserole dishes. 

A stack of paper plates was produced and everyone started eating.

Everyone except for me, that is.  

Paper plates?

On Christmas?

Is this even allowed? (I half expected the police to show up at any moment!)

An hour or so later, more family came. With more food, which was added to the growing collection on the kitchen table. 

Everyone helped themselves to the new offerings as well as seconds of the original dishes.

Except for me. After all,


  • I’d never eaten Christmas dinner off anything other than my mother’s special china dishes. The ones she’d brought over from Germany after she spent a year as an exchange student. The ones she didn’t let anyone carry except for herself...and me.
  • I’d never eaten Christmas dinner anywhere other than seated stiffly at my mother’s formal dining room table, with a place card bearing my name between the small salad bowl and bread plate. And with a gigantic centerpiece blocking my view of half my family.

By mid-day, the kitchen table and counters were covered with food. Dozens of family members mingled throughout the house and all over the back yard, some reclining on lawn chairs.

Lawn chairs

I made it through that day without having a nervous break-down (but it was a very close call!)

I finally did pile a paper plate with food.

But I could not bring myself to sit on a lawn chair. 


Tradition!

A few months ago, my friend Julie–who converted from Judaism to Christianity as a teenager–and I attended the play Fiddler on the Roof. On the drive home, we discussed the struggle the father experienced each time one of his daughters wanted to defy tradition. 

Julie fondly recalled some of the Jewish rituals she’d grown up with. But she observed that what made these rituals meaningful was the close relationships she had with the family members who performed the rituals. Because the relationships were already strong, the rituals bonded them together as a family.

However, for those who did not already have the foundational relationships, rituals not only failed to create closeness, they actually caused division. They alienated family members from each other.

Rituals without relationships disintegrate quickly into rigid rules.


Relationships over Rituals

At Christmas, we get to celebrate the gift of righteousness God gave us by sending His Son.

Yet God, with undeserved kindness, 
declares that we are righteous. 
He did this through Christ Jesus 
when He freed us from 
the penalty for our sins. 

Romans 3:24 (NLT)

Too often, though, we get caught up in defending the right-ness of our rituals. 

At the time of year when we sing in church about peace, joy, and love, we too often go home and fight to the death of our relationships over 
  • gifts on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day
  • everyone around the table or eating in shifts
  • home-made or store-bought

I posed this question on Facebook:  So what's the difference between the rituals of a wonderful family tradition that brings people closer together...and the rigidity of old rules that drive a wedge between people?

All generations are different. I was thinking about the story about how three or four generations in the family always cut the ends of the ham off to cook it. When asked why they did it, they said that whoever was in the generation before (ie. mom, grandma, etc...) had always done it that way so they did it, too. When they got all the way back to the reason that the first generation had done it, it was because the ham wouldn't fit in the pan to cook without cutting the ends off. Here all of this time later they were still doing it, just because the others had done it that way. When we really look at why we do things, we may realize that we don't have to do something just because that's the way it's always been done. It's okay to change things.  

Kristina

When traditions get in the way of the togetherness...when sticking to the "right" way makes everyone so stressed that they are miserable, or not allowing for changes in life circumstances, i.e. you CANNOT have a big meal and all eat at the same time when there are 10 kids, and six of them are under the age of three! You have to be flexible. We ate in shifts, but took a big family photo first, and we all prayed together.

Adelle



Talking About Traditions NOW

NOW –- long before the expectations and pressures of the holidays are bearing down upon us -- is a great time to talk about the traditions, the rituals, the “always been done this way”s in our families. 

Some conversation starters:
  • What is the history of our family’s traditions/rituals? 
  • What was the original purpose of each one? 
  • What relationships did they strengthen?
  • What has changed since these traditions/rituals were first started? 
  • Which ones meet my PURSE-onality needs? How/why?
  • Which ones meet your PURSE-onality needs?  How/why?
  • Which ones violate someone's PURSE-onality needs? How/why?
  • Which traditions/rituals might we discard? replace? revise?

Your Turn!
  • What is one of your favorite family traditions/rituals? Why is it a favorite? What relationships does it strengthen?
  • What is one of your least favorite family traditions/rituals? Why is it a least favorite? What relationships does it stress?
  • What family tradition/ritual would you like to discard / replace / revise this year?
  • Anything else on your heart!


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Grace for the Good Girl: Desperate to Do the Right Thing

August 1-14, I'll be blogging as I read through Emily Freeman's Grace for the Good Girl. Each week, I'll give away a free copy of her book! Enter via the Rafflecopter here.

(I'm in Nashville presenting workshops at a teachers' convention; I'll catch up with comments and e-mails in a few days!)

"I didn't know any real, relevant answers to questions people were asking. To me, being a Christian was hard work. I secretly didn't wish it on anyone. At least those unbelievers could have fun in their ignorance. All I had was rules and guilt. Lots of guilt. I felt shame for who I was. I had to be perfect, but I wasn't. And that wasn't okay."

Emily Freeman, Grace for the Good Girl

* * * * * 

Ariel was lying on the bathroom floor, wrapped from head to toe in toilet paper.

Astonished, I said the first thing that came to mind:

"What are you doing?"

In a nonchalant voice that belied the tears streaming down her cheeks, Ariel replied,

"I'm wrapping myself in toilet paper."

Okay, I deserved that. Ask Ariel an obvious question, you'll get an obvious response. 

"So I see. But why?"

Her sardonic answer hit me like a slap in the face.

"Because I feel like a piece of shit."

Part of me wanted to laugh, the scene was so ludicrous. She feels like...so she...how perfect! And part of me wanted to weep, her pain was so tangible.

* * * * *

Ariel and I were roommates in the eating disorder unit. She was simultaneously detoxing from a cocaine addiction and recovering from severe anorexia.

Ariel was everything I was not: gorgeous, glamorous, confident, popular. Always at the center of any crowd, her infectious laugh carried for miles. Whenever something made her excited, she'd yell, "Yessss! I like it!" at the top of her lungs.

Although two years her elder, I paled in her shadow. Plain, dowdy, insecure, reserved, I never knew what to say. Oh, how I envied Ariel's natural flamboyance!

One night, Ariel came to me in a panic.

"Cheri, they're talking about moving me in with Amber. You can't let them. I have to stay with you!"

Flattered, I asked, "Why?"

"You're a goody-goody. If I room with Amber, I'll start partying again. If I stay with you, I won't be tempted."

Ariel might as well have slapped me. How I despised the phrase  "goody-goody." I didn't have the nerve to escape the label. And now, I'd gained new one: non-tempting.

* * * * *

I sat down on the toilet lid, my mind racing for the right thing to do: call a nurse? get one of the other girls? find her doctor?

Yes, anyone would be better than me. Someone else would know how to help Ariel. I stood to leave.

"Don't leave me alone. I'm scared, Cheri."

You and me both.

We sat in silence, but the accusations in my mind were deafening.

You call yourself a Christian, but when it comes to the test, you don't know the right answer? You are such a fake! You have nothing to offer her. Some friend you are! If you were a real friend, a real Christian, a truly good person, you would know the right thing to do right now!

"Ariel, would you like me to pray with you?" I asked desperate to do something, anything, to shut down my thoughts.

She nodded.

I don't remember a single word of my prayer.

All I remember about kneeling beside Ariel on that bathroom floor is how desperately I envied her honesty and wished I could use a few rolls of toilet paper on myself.

The next day, Ariel went AWOL. I never saw or heard from her again.

* * * * *

As I read the section of Grace for a Good Girl quoted above, I remembered Ariel. I hadn't had "any real, relevant answers" for her. My prayer didn't change her life. This is not a conversion success story.

So I expected this blog post to explore my shame of being such a fake Christian I as a teenager, stuck in the mire of an eating disorder, unable to share my faith at the critical moment when I could have made an eternal difference in the life of a lost soul.

But the shame is not that I was a fake Christian.

The shame is not that I was unable to share my faith.

The shame is that for almost 30 years I've believed I did nothing of value for Ariel that day.

But I did.

I offered her the one thing I could:

Safety.

Calling me a "goody-goody" wasn't an insult.

It meant that she felt safe with me.

For all these years, I've felt so guilty for not doing the right thing for Ariel that I've missed the fact that just being with her was the right thing.

I didn't have to know the right thing to do the right way at the right time.

I just needed to be me.

With her.


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Day 5: RIGHTEOUS (+ Reason Why #2)


Our Give-Away for Today!



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Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.
(Katie Evans’ e-mail tagline)


Why We G.R.I.P.E.

Continuing our exploration of the 5 goals of complaining+ (via the acronym G.R.I.P.E):

R = Remove Responsibility

Complaining is a natural language for “righting the wrongs” around us.

Especially for someone who analyzes their environment for imperfections, it’s an easy way to report – and then walk away from – problems.
Church pastors are often “blessed” by messangers who feel it their duty to report (but not actually do anything about) a major issue. 

Common lead-ins include:
  • Someone needs to do something about…”  
  • "How hard would it be to actually..."
  • “It appears that nobody else has noticed…”
  • “I’m sure you have already noticed…” 

That last one carries an extra dig, because it implies that you have noticed but have failed to fix the problem.

These are classic Melancholy ways to Remove Responsibilty for the disappointing situation while simultaneously highlighting the disappointment.



The Fight to be Right
“A lot of my issues stem from feeling justified. [The other driver] cut me off and that was wrong, so I am right. Along with that, I want others to know and agree that the other party was wrong, and I was right.” (Patti)
  • I told you so!
  • Didn’t I say that?
  • I could have told you that.

Oh, how often and how badly I want to speak these words! Complete with mock-sincerity and wounded gestures (i.e. sarcasm).

And what I really want is to hear contrite responses that
demonstrate recognition of my rightness. 


  • “I know, Mom. I should have listened to you.”
  • “Sweetheart, as always, you were right all along.”
  • “You such an expert, Mrs. G. I’m lucky you’re my teacher!”

Wanna guess how many times I’ve heard any of these rewarding concessions?  (Hint: You won’t need more than one hand...or finger, for that matter!)


You Have No Right to Make Me Wrong!
But if you’re right and I am, er, “less right,” you’d better step back. 

‘cause I’m gonna go all out to defend my right to be wr...wr...wr...(remember The Fonz?)…alternately valid
Admit that you’re right? You’ve got to be kidding!
Drop it and move on? No way!
  
I'd have to consider your point of view. And I'm far too wrapped up in my self.




My Self-Righteousness 


All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags (Isaiah 64:6)
Whether we’re cheerleading our rightness or avoiding wrongness, we are sick
Riddled by self-ishness, which starts in our hearts and works its way out.
Being destroyed from the inside out, insisting we look "all right."
Blind to the ugliness of our fight to be right.



Declared Righteous

(Can't view the image? Click here to download Romans 3:24)

Each time I re-read this verse, I am stunned anew.

"God...declares that we are righteous."

All of us are sick with self-ishness. 


"God...declares that we are righteous."

Every single thing we try to do right is totally messed up.
And yet,
with underserved kindness

"God...declares that we are [present tense] righteous."


Not that we will be [future tense] righteous, if we try so that we’ll be good enough.

"God...declares that we are righteous" right this very minute!


He did this [past tense] through Christ Jesus.

Why the Fight to be Right?


If God declares that you are righteous...


...why worry about people who won't admit you're right?


...why pour energy into people who think you're wrong?

Yet God, with undeserved kindness,

declares that we are righteous. 

He did this through Christ Jesus 

when He freed us from the penalty for our sins.



"What shall we say about such wonderful things as these? 
If God is for us, who can ever be against us?" (Romans 8:31)


If God is for you...


...why give authority to anyone but Him?




Try this today:  When the urge to be right (or not wrong) comes up, clench your right hand and release, praying, "Jesus, I give you my desire to be right and praise you for declaring me righteous!"


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Please leave a comment 

  • responding to today’s blog, and/or
  • sharing your Day #1-5 experience of replacing “baditude” with God’s word and gratitude, and/or
  • about anything else on your heart!

All drawings will be done this weekend once I'm back home!

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    (Catch up on any "Warm-Up Week" Blog Posts!)