My friend’s alienation crackled through the phone line. “I don’t know. I keep doing all the right things. But a lot of times I don’t feel close to God, you know?”
My friend described time in Scripture and prayer, their attempts to live in ways that pleased God. Yeah, I definitely believe there are things we can do to move closer to God. I also know what it’s like to feel like God is endlessly, silently away from you.
So it’s summer, which means family rhythms tend to find their way down the Slip ‘n’ Slide,* right? Between hauling my kids to VBS and a new puppy who’s, like, 72% adorable and 28% pain in the neck (as so many puppies and toddlers are, by God’s design), some of my morning quiet times have done what frozen things do in summer.
But the thing is, when it doesn’t happen I really miss it. And I feel my need for it as I haul my day up by the bootstraps.
Let’s get real. You may be even a little too busy to read this post.
Or maybe you’re tired of picking up things with a lot of pieces. Or trying to find the owner of the toenail clipping on the table. (These have all been me.)
This week on a phone conversation with a friend, she asked what’s become our custom at the end of our calls: What’s one intimate prayer request I can pray for?
It was probably telling that I didn’t really know.
Okay, yes, I am this big Enneagram 2, and I am frequently caught “two-ing” in my family—overfunctioning like a crazy person, sublimating any needs of my own, etc.
But I also have this monstrous, flapping-larger-than-my-triceps 3-wing. Which means, for all of you unfamiliar with enneagram-speak, that I am an achiever. Goal-setting can fill my sails (…to the point of what we’ll call “Christian workaholism”).
Anyone else out there go through these seasons when you’re struggling to find hope around one of your kids?
Gnawing on this recently, I realized I’ve gone through seasons of this with each of my kids. Some more than others, sure. But there was that year when I was deeply concerned about my daughter’s manipulation. Or my son’s ADHD taking a wrecking ball to his relationships. Or that kid whose ego I could see splintering him off from listening to God.
While living in Uganda, my language acquisition developed to an equivalent of that drunken-sailor lurch of a new toddler. That is, my ability to speak resembled lurching, grinning, and occasionally falling on my rear.
And of course just because you can speak a language doesn’t mean you use it in the same ways. I’d occasionally get weird looks for wishing someone Merry Christmas (Seku Kulu enungi!) in December. Apparently Ugandans keep this phrase pretty much for Christmas day.
Minor confession: In the midst of putting out our family’s prayer letter last week…I declined a call.
My husband walked into the kitchen, and I had this look like your dog would when it pees on the carpet.
I explained my sheepishness. “Why do you feel guilty about that?” he asked, direct as ever.
“I want to be the kind of person who will drop everything and be present with whoever needs it,” I shrugged.
His eyes had this kind look around the edges. “You know you can only be present by shutting other stuff out, right? You’re present with our financial supporters [my husband and I are supported missionaries with Engineering Ministries International] right now. When you’re present with someone else, you’re shutting out other things you could be paying attention to.”
I literally thought about the post I wrote about being distracted with others–and how to be fully, powerfully present. We all know what it’s like to compete with headphones or a smartphone.
So often in my attempts to be everywhere, to be everything to everyone, I’m not “all there” with anyone.
).
The Psalmist prays, Unite my heart to fear your name (Psalm 86:11). I wonder if I was on God’s mind when he penned this one…because at Christmas, my heart can be going in about 167,856 directions at once.
I’m just not all there with him.
So I’m pulling ideas together to help me/you hone in on being “all there” this Christmas, starting with our audience of One.
To an already-packed schedule, Christmas can feel a bit like “more bricks, less straw.”
If your goal is being present in the ways that matter, cut out a few of the “have-to’s” that aren’t.
My father is the broad-shouldered, strong, internal teddy bear type, with fingers like sausages. In my childhood, he was a Midwestern farmer. In his spare time, he donates his mad skills to car repairs of missionaries, single moms, people like that. He’s that kind of guy.
And it’s common for him to come back into the house with blood zigzagging down his leg or seeping through his shirt.
So for a lot of the world, boredom is real. I read in a meme that pandas can eat 13 hours a day…hence calling this a “pandemic.” Need a couple of fresh ideas while you’re bored in quarantine?
Try these jigsaw puzzles from White Mountain with icons from the 80’s and the 90’s–serious conversation starters. (“Dad, who was Michael Jackson?”)
![Now You're Speaking My [Love] Language](https://www.janelbreitenstein.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/love-languages-text-1.jpg "Now You're Speaking My [Love] Language")
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