Fellowships, Picnics, and Bounce Houses...Oh My!

There are lots of reasons why a church picnic is a bad idea. It's crowded, people are sharing food that may or may not contain salmonella, people are already busy, it's a lot of work for the church staff....okay, I can't even type any more because I don't think a church picnic is a bad idea.

We had a picnic at our church yesterday and it was awesome. Not because of the food or the bounce house or the pony rides...although all of those things were fabulous...but because of the people. The thing that most people are missing out on these days is an opportunity to slow down. I wish I had a dollar for every person that told me they weren't coming to the church picnic because they had been way to busy on Saturday. If picnics and people aren't your thing that's find but if you are too busy on Saturday for fellowship on Sunday then you may need to rethink your weekend.

Someone told me a while back that "fellowship" is an old fashion word that I use too often. I can't help but think the reason that person felt that way is because they have a big fellowship hole in their heart. There is something very peaceful and beautiful about coming together with a group of believers and sharing a potato salad. You see, it's actually less about the potato salad and more about the group of believers. Our hearts are drawn together when we tune out the noise of the world and share stories of family together. Our minds can rest when we put our phones away and look into the eyes of someone we haven't sat with in a while. Our souls can unite when we share bread and wine (or tea) with a cool breeze on our backs.

I'm not going to lie. A planned and programmed picnic like we had yesterday is a lot of work. Someone had to book the petting zoo with the baby goats and tiny ponies for rides. Someone had to drive to the fire department to pick up the dunk tank and fill it with ice and water so the children could squeal with delight as their pastor fell hard and fast into a big splash. A large group of people had to move tables, chairs, garbage cans, extension cords, etc. Desserts had to be organized. Bubbles had to be blown. Speakers had to be set up so that fun music could play just loud enough for people to sing along but not so loud that it interrupts conversations. It literally takes a village to put on a big picnic like we did yesterday.

What doesn't take a lot of work, however, is to make a phone call or shoot a text out to 3-5 families and say, "Hey, we are meeting at the park after church next week. Everyone is bringing their own lunch. We are going to let the kids play and we are going to watch them from a safe distance while we talk and catch up on life."

What's super easy is to announce to your Sunday School class that next week you're going to meet at a restaurant with an outdoor play place so the kids can eat their grilled cheese and then run like monkeys while the grown ups share an iced tea or beer and share a few highlights from their week.

Fellowship doesn't have to be hard. It doesn't have to involve a petting zoo. Fellowship can be for the whole church or neighborhood or just a handful of families and friends. Fellowship doesn't have to be programmed to the max and have a photo booth (although a photo booth will bring outrageous laughter) but instead can be easy and thrown together. It doesn't have to have a semi-professional cooking crew or even a potluck lunch but could be bologna sandwiches with Pringles on the side. Fellowship is good for the soul and calming to the mind. It's good for the body of Christ to sit down and get to know each other. So grab a basket, throw some fruit and crackers in it and call some friends. Head to the park. Go to someones back yard. Pop a beverage, put your phone away, and look someone in the eye. It's called fellowship and we can bring it back.

Letting Go of Homemaker Perfection

I'm not a full time homemaker but it certainly is a very large piece of my life as a wife and mother. I have spent a lot of hours in frustration because I wanted to be perfect at homemaking. I wanted every room to be clean and tidy. I wanted the laundry to smell fresh and be free of wrinkles. I wanted every meal to appear as if the photographers from Martha Stewart Living had just left my kitchen only moments before.

The problem with equating homemaking to perfection is that it exhausts you to no end. The laundry will never be done at my house. Never. Unless my family decides to convert to nudism for a weekend so I can get all caught up then it simply won't ever be a real thing. I can keep fairly current on a good week but it won't ever be complete. I've made peace with that.

My house will never be perfectly clean in every corner. I gave myself some grace a few years back and hired a cleaning team that comes to visit twice a month. I love them with my whole heart because they can do magic with a broom and some bleach. They come while I'm at work and I try to never come home while they are there because I don't want to break their spell. I do without a few other things so I can ensure that I will always be able to pay them. But even with all of their loveliness, there are still areas of my house that harbor dirt. My horse dog sheds profusely and no matter how much you sweep, vacuum, or dust, his hair will find a way to remain stuck to a curtain or pillow somewhere.

I love to cook but the idea of picture perfect meals is simply not a reality. I'm working hard to be more prepared for meals and evening time in general (See some tips here.) but it doesn't always look the way I want it to. Even on the weeks when my meals are planned, prepped, and ready to go, someone in my family decides that they don't have a taste for cauliflower or beans or whatever my delectable side is, and my meal is no longer a success. Sometimes homework is extra trying and math spills all over the table while we down our pork chops. Every now and again the husband gets tied up in a last minute meeting at work and the kids and I are so ravished that we eat without him. Dinner time is not always like the cover of a magazine.

What I am learning, however, is that making a house a home is about creating a space where
everyone can be authentic. It's about allowing time for peace to settle. It's making space for grace to flood into all the crevices so that love can bloom out of the hard places. It looks like a pretty flower that pops up in the middle of a sidewalk. It doesn't happen with magic. It happens when a seed is planted. I haven't mastered it yet but I've seen glimpses of it and I know that the beauty can be so grand that I want to keep at it. I want to be a blessing to my family in the time I have them. I want to keep tossing seeds of hope all over the place and see where the beauty pops up. I may never be a Pinterest worthy homemaker but I want to be a one who makes sure the love of Jesus is evident in her home.

Busy Doesn't Make You Good

I've been talking a lot lately about slowing down. It's been at the front of my mind for many months and therefore, has been at the front of most of my conversations. I'm learning, for myself, to say no more often and hoping to inspire others to do the same. God created the heavens and the earth and all that went in them and rested before moving on to building relationship with creation. It's a good lesson, really. How can I expect to build good relationships with others if I'm exhausted? God didn't do it so why would I even try?
I've been quite taken back by the people I've encountered lately that see this as laziness or worse, have accused me of not being an involved parent. There are those that believe a "good" parent is one who is on every committee, goes to every function, knows all the names of all the other moms and lunches with them 8 days a week. Frankly I don't have it in me. Nor do I have 8 days.
I'm not saying it's wrong to be on the PTA or the planning committee of Scouts or dance or whatever organization your kids are a part of. The people that do the planning are amazing people full of organization and energy that I simply do not possess. I admire what they do and my kids reap the benefits of their hard work when it's time for fall festivals, book fairs, and class picnics.
What I'm saying is wrong, however, is the need to do it all and the idea that you are only a good parent if you are juggling all the committee balls in the air. When we stretch ourselves so thin with our volunteering that we rarely have time to enjoy the people we are volunteering on behalf of our energy seems to go in vain. When we are angry and stressed over the commitments we've made on behalf of our children then how can we enjoy our children?
I want to help out at the school where possible. But I work full time so I can't be there as much as I'd like. I'd like to serve on a committee here and there for the activities my kids join but I have to keep my motives in check. Am I helping because I want to make a difference or because it will make me look like a good mom? Is my volunteering something I can involve my kids in or is it something that is going to take me away from them? Do I want to build relationships with the other people of this organization? Is this where God is calling me to serve?
Sometimes saying no in one place allows me to offer a better yes somewhere else. Sometimes backing away from a few commitments gives me time to rest and give better effort and energy in a place where I might be needed even more. Jesus repeatedly set an example of stepping back from the crowd and resting in quite so he could be prepared for the next crowd. Work is good. Volunteering is good. God designed us to be people who work and are productive. The problem is when we don't balance it out with time of rest. We do not become more righteous by filling our lives with busy.
What is God saying to you about slowing down?

Waiting for Bread

I can't even begin to tell you the number of times I have used the analogy of baking bread when talking about waiting on God. If I had a dollar for every time I could probably give up baking and just buy a couple loaves.
I've been baking a lot of bread lately...and with not a lot of success. I'm trying to make healthier choices for myself and for my family and decided that, since my kids take sandwiches several times a week in their lunch boxes, making bread at home would be a smart option. Not only can I control the ingredients but I get the benefit of slowing down, resting in the wait of the rising dough and slow baking process.
My friend Jamie gave me a recipe that she swears is fool-proof. She says she bakes a couple loaves a week and it's super easy. It's a throw-it-all-in kind of recipe and it really was easy. Except that my loaf turned out small. It was tasty and dense and cut nicely for sandwiches...if you like tiny, doll sized sandwiches.
I made it again, this time allowing extra rising time. It rose beautifully. But when I baked it it fell. So it was tasty and airy and it still cut nicely for sandwiches...if you like horse shoe shaped sandwiches. Jamie's recipe might be fool-proof but it is clearly not Tamara-proof.
Last night I pulled out my Cooking Bible from Paula Deen and made old-fashioned white bread. Y'all there truly is something to putting your hands in the dough and kneading it into a smooth ball. I closed my eyes and wondered if that is what God felt when he reached into the earth and pulled out a man. I may have wondered too long though and my kneading may have been over zealous. I made two of the most beautiful loaves you've ever laid eyes on but they were so dense and heavy. I sliced an end off while the bread was still steaming and spread a very thin layer of butter on it. It melted instantly into the tiny pores just before I put it in my mouth. "Is this what heaven tastes like?" I wondered to myself. It was so delicious I almost shed a tear but I knew in my gut that as this bread cooled it would turn heavier and heavier. This morning my beautiful loaves could be used in a drive by to throw through someone's window. They were as hard as bricks.
I'm not giving up in my bread quest. I will find the perfect recipe that works in Houston's fall humidity and doesn't mind my temperamental oven. I will find the instructions that are easy to follow and understand and don't require me to take a day off work to fit all the steps in.
In the meantime I will continue to refer to bread making when I talk about waiting on the Lord. The analogy still holds true. And just like my oven cooks differently from my friend Jamie's,God's timing is rarely my own. His plan often looks totally different from mine so even when I follow the recipe, my bread might not be as tall or fluffy or brown. The instructions he gives someone else for their life might be different from what he's calling me to do. I may need a whole new recipe. And a new oven. But that's a different analogy for a different post on a different day.