Love Rehab Day 2: Vines and Branches

On a field trip today I became mildly frustrated by the amount of time it was taking to finish up at a winery. I was waiting and waiting and quietly criticizing how the owner was giving the history of the place. I wanted her to hurry up.

Then I noticed I was officially frustrated. That trigger emotion showed up again, and I chose to respond patiently. So, I walked toward the group of ladies again, and tried to stand and listen. Soon we began the tour to the crops and the vats.

After she explained how the different type of grapes are grown and how they are braced to be exposed to the right amount of sun, I asked her about the familiar metaphor that Jesus used to describe himself. "I am the Vine and Ye are the branches."

She gave me new insight. The vine has a way it wants to grow. It wants to grow up, down, or across. She explained that it is unwise to try and get the vine to grow differently than it is inclined to grown. Instead a good caretaker of a vineyard would respond to the vine's direction and make the other variables support that inclination.

A LIGHT BULB moment occured for me in her explanation. For me to remain in the Vine, is for me to remain in the direction Jesus lived his life. He was not self-seeking, so personal ambition would be inconsistent with staying "in the vine." Clearly, Jesus' inclination, His Vine, was to live a life that glorified God and was Self-less. His purpose was to be "crushed like wheat" so that His Father may be glorified.

As I hand over my ambition and self-determination to Christ, I am in effect "remaining in the vine." As I joyfully participate in the humble service that goes unappreciated and un-noticed, and to feel like I am being crushed like wheat, I am remaining "In The Vine." And I can trust that in those moments my destiny's joy, meaning and fulfillment will be experienced.

Mary Boren June 18, 2010.

Love Rehab Day 1

Something happened to me. Instead of becoming more loving, I've become less loving. Sure there are many "acts" of love that I do, such as donating my law degree to help those who are oppressed, working in fields of public service, etc. But, when I apply God's definition of love to my life, I fail. I Corinthians 13 4-7 sets forth the character of a loving person, and I am becoming less like those characters than more like them.

Love is patient, and I am less patient now than I have been. Frustrations invite a patient response, and I've chosen to be angry, bitter, and resentful. I thought I would be doing different things with my life at age 43, and I'm frustrated that "my expectations" have not be reached. I'm frustrated that the house will not stay tidy without the boring steps of maintaining a tidy home; that my children will not accept instruction on all things without follow-through and execution on my part. I'm frustrated by the amount of time it takes to live a healthy life, to exercise, to plan for healthy meals.

I want to be about doing other more helpful things. I want to use my gifts and my talents to a greater capacity. I want to . . I want to . . . (notice how often the word I is used?) But what I really want is to have a blessed and meaningful life without having Faith in God's goodness to provide it for me. Instead, I trust in my own good intentions and good acts to provide the meaningfulness and purpose that is only God's to give. My pride has kept me from responding to frustrations with patience, kindness, and perseverance. My pride has caused me to grow grumpy, fatigued, pitiful, and hurried.

How did this happen? How did a "good Christian woman" grow this type of heart?

After reading God's word over the last few days it appears that I've gone down this path by failing to accept the path God has called me to take, including the frustrations along that path. Instead of responding to the frustrations I face as something permitted by God, inviting me to grow closer to Him with Godly responses, I've acted entitled to my own perspective. Entitled to nurturing my own strengths. Entitled to positive reinforcement from my children and husband, and when it doesn't come immediately I have gradually grown discouraged and resentful -- less loving, more rude, more self-seeking and easily angered.

God in His faithfulness to implement His plan and purpose for His Children is taking away my sense of entitlement to forge my own destiny, and replacing it with the destiny that He charted for me. Just as the stars do no debate where they hang in the sky, God has a divine plan for where I shine, and my opinions and expectations are stealing the sparkling joy He intends for me.

To cooperate with this exchange of destiny: my plan for God's plan will take a tremendous act of Faith on my part to "lay down my life" for His plan and purpose. To hand over 100% of my dreams of doing good, the desires of my heart to minister to the poor and the oppressed, my potential, my talents into the care and guidance of the resurrected Lord and Savior goes against so much of what I hear from others.

And because I am chosen to follow the life of Jesus, what ever accomplishments I may experience in this life they will be mine only as I become more loving in the biblical sense, NOT less loving.

My first step towards Love Rehab will be to respond to every frustration with patience and an act of faith. When the clutter of household papers and laundry demand my attention, I will ask for more Faith to experience that God is good and has a good plan for my role as "de-clutterer" and "paper-sorter" for the family. More broadly I will perform all of my more humble roles with patience as evidence of my Faith that I serve a powerful and loving Father.

Next, I WILL NOT envy the person I envisioned I would be. The woman who is so much more qualified to do more important things. I will not envy the day I wished I had, for the one God is presently giving me. Instead, I will pray that envy be cleaned out of me, that the Holy Spirit of Jesus will fill my heart with gratitude and peace. I will pray that the trap of envy will no longer snag my heart and bend it towards hate. Instead, I will pray that God give to me by his grace a joyfulness in knowing that I am where God can use me best, no matter how humble of a place that might be.

by Mary Boren June 17, 2010

Thanks to Lyn Smith for telling me to slow down, and for Debbie Meek responding to my question about what I should do next, by asking "Do you have any boxes to unpack? Is your house tidy?" I don't want to slow down or unpack boxes because I think those things are un-important. This prideful state led me to I Corinthians 13, and caused me to begin Love Rehab.

Advocating for Silliness

I used to be silly when I was skinny. Now I'm more of a fuddy duddy than anything else. But tonight I took a risk and broke out some silly, for old times sake.

As I was running out the door to make it to my kid's baseball game, I was hunting frantically for my non-designer glasses that look sort of like they are designer glasses, but aren't. I bought them to help offset the effects of aging and poor diet. I don't think they made my butt look smaller or bigger, probably a little more along the lines of lip-stick on a pig. The frustration of looking for them was a familiar foe. Defeated once again by good intentions that failed for lack of proper planning.

All I could see were the glittery glasses used by my 9 year old girl as a prop in her skit for the 3rd grade talent show. We bought them, on a Monday afternoon, in a mad dash through Party Galaxy minutes before I was to drive up I-35 to BSF. The glasses were part of a complete ensemble of hippie wig, a rainbow glitter "Cat in the Hat" hat, and another pair of over-the-top sunglasses.

They just laid there, neglected on my desk, wishing their initial potential were remembered. They were so extroverted in such an introverted place: the top of my desk in my rather boring living room. The nurturer and rescuer snatched them up and placed them confidently on my face. Immediately, something deep and dormant started to tingle and bend towards the light of silliness.

Perhaps my decades of epic failures colluded to push aside the person I hoped to be. And silliness seemed to be the anecdote. What better way to address the fear of failing than to dance on its grave with an overt act of silliness?

Getting out of my parked 2002 Avalon, I noticed a mom sitting in the driver's seat of a brand new Buick Enclave. She was wearing Dior sun-glasses. Seconds before, I was peeking through the windows of her back seats to see if there were three rows. Over the weekend, my husband and I were test driving cars with third row seats, habits are hard to break. Realizing the car was occupied, my gaze calmly returned to the sidewalk in front of me just after I registered the Dad-like passenger's strange expression. I'd almost forgotten the prop I was wearing.

Walking to the baseball field quickly became my version of a sociology experiment. Some smiled sort of relieved and entertained. Others didn't notice at all. One business- man-dad wearing what looked like a golf shirt I'd seen in Dillard's for $125, after seeing me approach, scratched his nose and looked the other way. My silly presence was WAY out-side of his comfort zone.

During the game the glasses stayed tucked away, but after the game they helped me tell my 11 year old son, "Good Game". He responded, "Silly glasses."

Light Notes on Memorial Day Weekend 2010

Are babies born good or bad? This question has caused quite a stir, and is prompted by a study of Romans. I've concluded that we are not born "holy". But we are born with a desire to be holy, and our human expression of this ambition can be fairly described as "good." A child's environment with an absence of teaching on God's character is at risk of losing interest in pursuing the ambition to be good. And an environment rich in the teaching about God's holiness can nurture that innate interest in goodness, and develop into a realization for the need for a sanctifying Savior.

Nobility seems to be one of those good virtues that humans seek to attain. Who hasn't had some desire to be our own version of Superman?

Memorial Day causes me to be very thankful for those who were willing to be the U.S. Constitution's Super Hero. While the average person would limit the ambition to be noble to that of a parent, a boss, or a rule enforcer; soldiers go to the greatest extent our society makes available to us and puts their lives in danger without the comfort of friends and family.

Our veterans serve faceless citizens, and their loyalty shifts in the midst of battle from the Constitution to their fellow soldiers. Researchers, interviewers, and experts explain that while in the trenches soldiers don't fight for the abstract values contained in the Constitution, but to preserve the lives of their fellow soldiers. For decades Americans have served in this way and it is humiliating to think of how much I take for granted as they sacrifice so much. It makes my high-minded attempts to protect the Constitution through a war of words seem silly and meaningless.


I suspect it is appropriate to put my high-minded attempts to promote the teachings of Christ under the same scrutiny. Do I put forth "noble" fights to preserve correct teaching, and neglect to thank the one whose blood perfected and protected my ability recognize them? Perhaps the most appropriate response to great sacrificial acts of nobility is set aside piety and to simply be grateful, and recognize how wonderfully blessed I am.