Planning My Time

I have made it my practice since starting this blog to write a New Year's Eve post. I am a little late this year, but here it is. There are many ways that I could write this, many different things that I could focus on, many ideas running through my mind. The summary of any one month this past year could have material enough for several posts.

Early on New Year's Day morning in another of our 3:30 am conversations, Rebekah and I were discussing how a year ago we never would have imagined things being as they are now and wondering what it will be like a year from now. This year has been full of changes for the Beerbower family. A year ago, none of us had been in a relationship, and next year, we'll have two weddings. That alone is change a' plenty. Six months ago when my siblings started dating seems like a long time ago. Something I've thought about frequently the past year is that although time seems to go increasingly fast, a great many things can happen in a short time.

There are many things that I want to accomplish this year. I made a long list of things I want to do and learn. Not all shall be accomplished, but as we said early on New Year's Day when we went around, sharing a New Year's Resolution (or something we wanted to do this year), "without a plan the people perish," and as Ben is fond of saying, "Anything worth doing is worth doing badly."

We had an enjoyable group of my immediate family and some delightful friends, and some almost-family. Before we did resolutions, everyone was compelled to say something that they did last year that was big or they really enjoyed. There was quite a variety from our group, ranging from four "got engaged" to lost a tooth and growing a new one (Kristen :-) to an epic vacation to got a book published. Then I suggested we share resolutions. These were also varied, ranging from getting married to not dying to graduating from college to becoming more musical to writing another book to accomplishing everyone else's resolutions (we made Chris change that...) to buying new socks to reading more books.

That was mine, one of my 30-some goals for the year. I started a list on which I will write any book I think of that I desire to read, and I will also keep a list of books I have completed. Thus I hopefully shall get more read. In addition, I hope to keep a reading journal about the books I read to aid in remembering and pondering what I read.

Once again, I have several goals regarding prayer. For a number of years the Holy Spirit has been drawing me to become faithful in this. I have gone through phases, but in general I haven't been very consistent or faithful. One way I am planning to accomplish this is by studying A Call to Spiritual Reformation: Priorities from Paul and His Prayers by D. A. Carson, a book that I started last year and have found very helpful, and Wrestling Prayer, by Eric Ludy, of which I can say the same. I reread the first several chapters of the first one, and my goal for this month is to apply one suggestion he has, which is to read the prayers of Paul (printed in the book) every day and see how that transforms my prayers.

There are a number of accomplishments on my list, such as finish writing a book, do a sewing project, finish Ryan and Grace's scrapbook, get my driver's license, find a way to get income (taking pictures or something like that or get a job), learn to cook different things, begin a letter-writing correspondence, complete the proper writing course that we got for Christmas.

Some are a little less definitive and concrete, such as building relationships with some younger girls, learn to study the Bible on my own (using How to Study the Bible by Kay Arthur, another leftover project from last year), memorize more, learn to take more initiative, develop photography skills, organize my clothes and desk, control computer time and free time.

Actually, learning to make the most of the time is a main reason that I made this list. It's something that I've considered this year. It's something that you think about when you have the last Christmas night and morning as a family with all its members you will probably ever have. It's something you think about when you realize that in just over four months, for the first time one of your siblings will not live at home. That in a year, two will not be around in the day-to-day happenings but rather come for visits. When you realize that what has occupied a good portion of many evenings, a visit from your sister's boyfriend or fiancee late into the evening, soon won't be so regular, when your little sister says about the eldest, "but it was fun having her here, right?", when you realize that this could be the last ride you and your brother have to school together.

None of these things are bad things, and I think I have begun to learn that change is often good. But nothing stays the same; each day progresses a little, and some do a lot. What matters is people, and thus every moment should be treasured and delighted in. To everything there is a season. I realized this past year that I have had time that many people do not have, being very free from much responsibility. Someone told me that he wished he had that time, and to use it and not take it for granted.

Making the most of the time is something that you think about when you lose someone you love. I had forgotten that I started the year thinking about that. It was almost a year ago when I wrote my post after my friend died. 

There isn't time to waste. I don't want to watch movies by myself when I've got a little sister who wants to play a game. Or check Facebook again, when there are books to be read. Or let my thoughts wander, when there are friends who need prayer. Or indulge in sleep when there are words to be written. Or engage in meaningless chatter when there are people who can teach me and people who need encouragement.

The most important thing I have learned--but only begun learning--this year is that Christ is more than sufficient, that I need trust Him, that everything means nothing without Him. It is good to find yourself saying these things, and realize that what you are saying is a cliche, but you didn't say it because it was; rather, you understand why it became one: because it is true. And in a small way, I have experienced it. No, not in a small way. God did it, so it isn't small. But it is beginning

That is what gives me hope for the next year, knowing that the Lord of time is in control and though I will fail to accomplish in this next year all that I wish I would, I know that He will bless my time. A verse that I have been considering recently is, "A man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps."

Dear Ruthie

I met you almost exactly two years ago.

We were going to a concert that our sister church in Bloomington apparently put on every year. We, not including you. Unaware that we were missing anything, we didn't know you existed.

None of us knew you except for Jonny. We heard he was bringing his friend from college to the concert. When I discovered that his friend wasn't a guy, I was surprised. Naturally we assumed you were interested in each other, unaware of the Bloomington connection.

There was much confusion about rides, which I shall not attempt to recall or describe. Suffice it to say, though I hadn't planned on going, I wanted to and I was told there was room...and we discovered when we got there that there was not. As we confirmed this year, we all know that something will be confusing and complicated, or it's just not right. Ironically, my gentlemanly brother let me go, briefly met you in the church office parking lot, and left.

So, suddenly you were on a long drive with six people, knowing only one. We didn't know you hardly even knew Jonny.

I wondered what you thought of us. We were very comfortable together, and acted no differently with this friend of Jonny's. That was all we knew, really, though perhaps we knew you were in engineering. And I found your name fascinating--I wonder if we talked about it. We wanted to name the twins we always wanted Mom to have Ruth and Naomi, and I always liked the name Ruth. But now, it sounds kind of incomplete, and I prefer Ruthie. I wonder if you told us your name was Ruthanne, or if I just wondered if Ruthie or Ruth was your real name.

I don't really remember telling you about Ryan and Grace's wedding, but since Mercy and I were both there and at that time it was never too far from my mind, it doesn't surprise me that we did. You must have told us that you were going to do a co-op in Bloomington and that was why Jonny invited you, so you had connection to a church.

I can picture a place along the highway where we were having a conversation. I know Rebekah and I were talking with you, but I cannot remember what exactly it was about. I think you might have told us about one of the many places you've visited or that your sister lived in Japan. It's interesting to think that these vague things I scarcely remember were probably about your mission trips to China and Romania, living in the Dominican, your family's travels, your tree story, and so forth. I don't remember much. Though I liked this friendly, quiet girl (as I think I had thought), I didn't expect to see her again.

The most vivid memory I have of you on that trip was on the way back. You had volunteered to sit in the front (somehow discerning that I didn't want to, already able to read me well). They had been joking and warning you about how Rebekah and Jonny's brother Ben drove slowly, never above the speed limit. When we stopped for gas, after Ben shut the door, you turned around, with that wide-eyed, very expressive look that I love, and said, "He does drive slowly!" And of course, as always, nothing that you say can be properly written down, for the words cannot relay your indescribably wonderful voice. At that point, I picture you as I know you now. Other than that, I cannot quite see you as yourself.

I saw you once again soon after that. You visited college group at Nick and Heidi's apartment once. I remember which wall you sat against and that Joy was there that night too. Other than that, I remember more about sitting on the couch by Ryan and Grace and joking about Gerald with them than anything about you that night.

I met you again one year ago. After discovering the Bloomington concert, we went back. As we sat in the pews, I recognized someone in the choir. "There's Ruthie!" I told Rebekah, pointing you out.

Afterwards, we talked to you. You were surprised to see us, I think, and that I remembered you, and I think I may have gotten my first Ruthie hug. I remember you saying that you were coming back in January and that you would come to our church.

After the rest of a stuffed-full, delightful December and a bit of January, I had forgotten that you might come until one Sunday I saw you. "Ruthie's here!" I said to whoever was beside me--Melody, perhaps. "Who's Ruthie?" she asked. "She went to the concert with us last year. I forgot she said she was coming here." I believe I went over and said hi to you.

I don't remember much of the beginning of that year. I remember when you were going to be in the Student Union at UT doing some sort of presentation, so I decided to go see if you were there. I think I may have startled you. Eric had just filled out a form and got a water bottle. You started telling me that your time was about done, but I could talk to this other guy--but I said good, I wasn't really interested in computers but in talking with you.

Then I walked out to the car with you. I don't remember a lot of what we discussed, but I remember pretty clearly where we walked and thinking that I really liked this Ruthie. We went past this fence and into this parking lot in an area I did not know on the side of campus closest to Engineering--now a quite familiar area.

We discussed school, and I think that I told you then why I had decided to go to school, and for the first time perhaps I went away smiling because of your encouragement. And also for perhaps the first time I noted your sweet gray-green Explorer. I like your car. The color is cool, and it always makes me excited when I recognize people's vehicles. Mostly, though, I get excited when I see it because I expect to see you.

Even though I don't remember much before then, I considered you a good friend by the time you agreed to come to our women's summer Bible study. That was about the time you decided to stay in the apartment at the Armentrouts'. Both of those things made me happy. I found it amusing when you and Mrs. Armentrout both appeared at Bible study unbeknownst to the other. "I could have told you that," I said.

Probably the reason I don't remember becoming friends with you is that, as you have sometimes kind of complained (or as close to complaining as you get), you just fit in so well so quickly, that everyone assumes you know things you haven't been told. Because we just can't--or don't want to--imagine life without Ruthie. That's the worst. 

Then there was Backyard Bible club--two of them, actually. You added so much fun to BYBC, and there you got more taste of the craziness that is the Beerbower family, the "vortex that once you're sucked in you cannot escape from," as Uncle Al said.

Although that might have been more at the Exaltation concert in May, where you said you fell in love with my family. I loved how you fit in so well, how you appreciate my parents, how Mom (and later Aunt T) makes you die laughing, how the kids love you. Although, "everyone loves Ruthie."

As you would say, True, that. No, but really.

Your calm, peace-loving and always sweet disposition is the perfect complement to our family's exuberant, dry-humored and always sarcastic nature. As is your realistic discipline to our free-spirited, that-sounds-fun impulsive tendencies, and your unbending calm confidence that won't stoop to indulge our love of a good argument and the way we "state [our] opinions as commonly accepted fact."

I delight in your adorable voice and your way of speaking. I often remember once when you said, "Jeannettie, you're coming with!" I know that's silly, but you were happy I was coming and your voice and way of speaking are so delightful. Plus I especially enjoy how you say my name. And it makes me happy that you always call me Jeannettie, as only a few certain people who really love me do.

I love the goofy, eyebrow-raising, wide-eyed face you put on for my pictures. (The first time I noticed that at the camping trip, I thought, That just happened! Okay, maybe that was before I used that phrase...)Your height, perfect for giving real hugs, makes me happy. You don't know how much I appreciate your company, your interest in me, your indulgence when I want to verbally organize my thoughts, and your reliably practical and calm responses to my idealistic, flighty ramblings.

There are some people that when you think of them, you must simply marvel at God's graciousness to you that He put them in your life. You're one of them. Thinking of how God has worked in your life and connected it with ours, I can't help but rejoice. (I hope you do too, because you know we're never going to let you get away from us. :-)

As you would say, You're the best thing ever.

Truth.

I am so glad God blessed the world with you, Ruthie. Happy birthday. You're the best.

I love you, Ruthanne.

True story.


*Words in italics are copyrighted by the Ruthie-Jeannette phrase-stealing club and should be read in Ruthie's voice.

Surrendering Desires

Lately I have been discontent. Even to me, it seems silly. How greatly the Lord has blessed me! How can I be ungrateful?

Yet I have been discontent. Why? Because of desires.

For the most part, my desires are not, to my knowledge, wrong. God gives us desires-imagine life without desires. If such a life were possible, it would not be a righteous life.

But we are called to die to self. That what we long for is good does not mean that we have a right to it.

For example, I have been discontent in my relationships with my friends. Often, they are busy and when I feel the need to talk to someone, it doesn't happen until the issue feels less pressing. The conversation I expect to happen does not. The person I want to see doesn't come. This has happened over and over again.

These are not bad desires that I should root out of my life. God has given us each other. Fellowship is good; iron sharpens iron. The older women are to teach the younger women, so the younger women must be willing to be taught. We are commanded to love one another.

However, over and over, when I want someone's opinion, it somehow doesn't work out. (Of course, in these lower moments, all those times I was encouraged by a friend are conveniently forgotten.) I've come to see the Lord trying to teach me. But I haven't learned, so it happens again. It's as if He's saying, You must rely on Me. I can fulfill your needs. Come to Me. Ask of Me.

But I want to ask a person. I want to hear someone say, This is what I would do. I understand how you feel. I think if you do this it will honor the Lord.

I want to please the Lord. But so often I don't want to come to Him myself. I want a mediator. My first impulse is not to turn to Christ. Many times, I start to pray, and then I start to imagine a conversation with a friend. If I asked her this, she would say... rather than God says. And so, in order to teach me to rely first on Him, He removes my other supports.

These other supports aren't bad, mind you. Just distracting from The Support.

So, in this and other desires, I long for something good (peace in the Lord, for example) and seek to fulfill it in a good way (comfort from His people) but neglect the best way (finding peace that passes understanding in Him), so God must remove those good ways, until I learn to use the best way.

It reminds me of a verse from Isaiah, which isn't exactly the same idea, but relates.

“Why do you spend money for what is not bread,
  And your wages for what does not satisfy?
  Listen carefully to Me, and eat what is good,
  And delight yourself in abundance."



Why do we settle for dust when God offers us gold?

Because we do not see with eyes of faith, and only with eyes of faith does this make sense.

How can a relationship that isn't physical, isn't visible, tangible, or audible be enough? How can I be satisfied with something I cannot see?

I guess that's why it's called peace that passes understanding.

That was a long tangent from discussing discontentment. However, it's something I've been  considering a lot, this idea of relying on the good things God gives us, such as godly friendships, rather than Him, and something I think most people are tempted to be discontent in.

Any desire has the temptation of bringing discontentment, no matter how good that desire is. For example, I want to have a mission, a clear purpose, specifically to make a difference in the lives of the fatherless-whether literally fatherless or not-but those who are aching because they do not know peace and are disillusioned with the world.

Of course, this is a good desire. It is in line with Scripture, which calls us to love one another and care for the orphan and widow (which I see as a broad category).

When, last year, I was inspired to live an eternity-focused life, one of the things my friend and I caught a vision of was to have lived a biography-worthy life. To be like George Mueller, Amy Carmichael, Gladys Alward. To not have people wonder, when someone says at your funeral, "She was such a godly woman, always serving the Lord," if they aren't exaggerating a bit, what they're exactly referring to. To have people point to you and say, "That person changed my life," and it be obvious, more than, "She was my friend and encouraged me."

Again, this isn't a bad desire, necessarily. Over and over again in Scripture, God speaks of reward, of honor, of having a good name. "A good name is better than riches," Proverbs says.

But our ideas of serving the Lord aren't always His. As I discussed with my friend yesterday, He is more interested in obedience than in sacrifice. Our works are our sacrifice, but our heart's attitude is more important. God doesn't need our service.

So, desiring to have this ministry, I can become discontent. I have often thought I would not want to marry a rich man (and by rich I don't mean super rich). To learn to deal with wealth would be a struggle for me. I do not want to live "the American dream," to simply have a nice house in a neighborhood, a steady job, four kids, and spend my time taking kids to soccer practices. Even if I add a dozen kids to that American dream, I am not content with that picture. I want something more exciting. More eternally significant.

Yet I am afraid this has more to do with my pride than any desire to please God. How spiritual I am, when I don't care about money, how I look, pop culture, watching movies, the latest trends.

Would I be willing to live a "regular, boring" life, with two public schooled kids, a dog, a comfortable income, in a nice little neighborhood? I am afraid not.

And yet, that is no less honoring to God. It is eternally significant. It is not doing God service to become a missionary when He's calling you to this sort of life. To obey is better than sacrifice.

And, ironically, I realize that were I to get exactly what I want (and do I even know what that is? No, I don't), I would be discontent. You see it over and over again: desire to be older-then you wish you were younger. Desire a job-you wish you didn't have to work. Desire to be married-you miss doing things you could before and long for children. Get children-you resent the necessary sacrifices. Tire of young kids-they grow, and you wish they were young.

I want a special ministry, but what if God called me to be a missionary? I have never wanted to go and be a missionary, because I never wanted to leave home or family. Everything I want, I know I would still be discontent if I got it.

So I've been learning, I must surrender my desires. Do I want to spend time studying Scripture with friends? Do I want to have some "special" calling? Do I want a dozen kids? Do I want to mentor hopeless girls? No matter how good the desire, I must give it up. I must be willing to live without it. I must not think God needs my help, or that in order to please Him I must serve in whatever way I think I should.

Then, I think, God will probably give back my desires. I do have good friends who challenge me spiritually. I probably will get married and have a bunch of home schooled kids. Most likely I'll never be rich. I probably will lead a Kid's Club or in some way work with practical orphans. These things aren't really the issue.

It's interesting how God works. He prepares us so well for a role-and then He calls us to something totally different. Like Paul, who knew Judaism inside and out-and was sent to the Gentiles. He calls us to what we are unprepared for, so that we learn to trust in Him. So that we realize that whatever we're doing isn't what satisfies us. It's only Him.

Talking about writing with my friend, I had an idea for a story, which I suddenly really wanted to do. We were talking about how our characters became real to us, how we would like to meet them in real life. What if they did? I wondered. Then, I thought it would be interesting to write a story with you, the author, in it, and have the characters come to life.

(About now, if you're actually reading this long post, you're wondering what this has to do with the topics at hand. Don't worry; I shall explain.)

As I imagined this, I laughed and said to my friend something like, "They might not like what you're doing." So, these characters would come out of the story into real life because of this terrible situation they are in and complain to you, the author. Get us out of this situation! they would cry. Why would you do this to us? Whining, they would try to get you to write it differently.

But you, as the author, can see the end. You know that if you rewrite the story as the characters wish you would, the ending would be messed up. No, you tell them gently, it has to be this way. Don't worry-it'll turn out all right. You send them back into the story, and despite enjoying your characters, you do not change it for all their pleading. Because you can see the end.

It wasn't until I explained this idea for a book to my friend that I realized the implications you doubtless saw immediately. I felt silly even mentioning them to her since they were so obvious. "The intellectual parallels of that would be cool," I said. "That's just like our relationship with God."

He sees the ending. We see where we are. We think that if God wrote it this way or that way, it'd be much better. But God knows how to work it out, and it's not by making sure the characters are always content and happy.

And for that reason, it would be best if the characters choose to be content and happy, knowing that the Author knows what He's doing, and His way will work out best. Even when His ways seem to be contrary to His own goal (as I wrote in my poem a couple months ago). Even when it seems that He's putting us through unnecessary heartache or trouble.

Sometimes as a parent, you deny a child their desire, not because you don't want them to have that, or because you are unkind, but because of that child's attitude. Were they to change it, you would immediately grant their request. Because you understand that character is more important than comfort.

Somehow, however, these things we know get forgotten and do not transfer when we need to apply them to our lives, to some specific situation. If we trust that God is our good Father, why do we try to hold onto what we want? If He doesn't give it to us, He has something better. Maybe not better in our eyes, but do we want to trust our vision?

Right about now is where I wish I could give you a magic formula which, after using, you would always be willing to give up anything God asked of you. However, there isn't one. God doesn't work by formulas. He works by relationships. And relationships are hard and messy and take work as long as there's sin in the world.

I wish there was a formula, so I could use it. After surrendering my desires, they returned, and I have to do it again. Every time I am tempted to rely on something, anything, other than Christ, I have a choice. Too often I choose to surrender to my desires rather than surrendering my desires to Christ.

"Delight yourself also in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart."

It is good to know that not only will God fulfill our desires, but He will conform our desires to His. So what is the secret to contentment, to surrendering our desires? The secret to all trouble: knowing Christ. Conforming to Him. It is only as we lose sight of Him and focus on our life on earth that we can be discontent. We have Christ-what else do we need?

The Perfect Picnic

"What are you doing before scrapbooking?" Rebekah asked.

"Nothing scheduled," I replied.

"Well, you and I are going to Secor and talking," she informed me.

"Well, that sounds lovely," I replied. "We could picnic."

"We should do the whole basket thing," she suggested.







Have you ever gone on a picnic?

Of course, everyone has been on a picnic. That is, pretty much everyone has eaten outdoors. But a real, true, proper picnic few have experienced. Until this past week, I never had.

That is, never with a proper wicker basket.

Nor with befitting food in decorous, appropriate presentation.

With a vase of flowers picked on location,

on a blanket spread in the bright green grass,

in the dappled shade of a tree,

 

drinking from glass jars,

surrounded by dandelions, 

wearing skirts,

 going barefoot,

and taking picture after picture,

this was the perfect picnic.

I stole that picture from Rebekah (hers is much cooler, however), so I gave it my own twist. Bark is pretty cool.

   

This is one of my favorite of the pictures I took that day. Rebekah's too, of course, since it's her style as she set it up:

 A tree with a perfect crook in it made it unnecessary to go back to Rebekah's car to retrieve my tripod, which we had left there, in order to get both of us in a picture.

After spending the majority of our time taking pictures, we stopped to eat.

Who am I kidding? No stopping for us. We just continued taking pictures as we ate.

Real picnicing is not for the germaphobic at heart.

Aww...I like that one.

We were glad we went with wax paper and twine for our sandwiches; a ziploc plastic bag just wouldn't have done.

Though the sandwiches were a little bit soggy, the food was generally delicious and perfect.

Eating pictures are generally awkward, gross, or some other unattractive adjective, but this time they turned out more desirable attributes like amusing and funny.

 

 

Busy asking whether she should eat the stem or not (don't ask me why), Rebekah allowed her yogurt to drip off of her strawberry onto her skirt.

Food finished, yet it was so lovely no one felt like leaving.

"Do we have to scrapbook?" Rebekah asked.

"Too bad we can't scrapbook outside," I said.

In any case, we remained there, relaxing and taking pictures, and suggested to Ashley that she join us.

Obviously, since I could not see what I was doing, the arrangement of this picture is less than optimal, yet I kind of like how it turned out:

 
 We were joined by Random Moth. Rebekah wouldn't add it to the list of strange creatures she has kissed.

I managed to spill a significant amount of Gatorade onto the blanket, the grass, and Rebekah's camera. Thankfully, it was mostly just her strap and didn't affect it adversely except for the stickiness and smell.

Then I managed to spill it on the blanket again.

Then I managed to dump it over, but thankfully I had already decided I ought to drink the rest before I did it again.
 

Then Ashley joined us, enjoying the beautiful setting as we had.

We also enjoyed the rest of the strawberries and the oranges we had neglected.

And I enjoyed taking pictures of them.

I had some fun editing later, as is evident by my pictures. Pretty much all of the ones in this post are edited.

Generally, I try to avoid editing pictures. For one thing, it takes a long time. For another, I generally prefer the more natural look. However, I found with these that they looked much more natural with a little bit of editing.

It has been a while since I've posted such a post with lots of pictures.

There are way too many...perhaps my skills at being discriminating aren't so much improved. Ah, well. 

At last, we decided to clean up and tear ourselves away. But we shall not soon forget (and Lord willing shall soon repeat) our perfect picnic.