Dirty Little Secrets

It's been one week of summer at the janous household and I can already tell it's going to be a long one. The thing I hate the most is that I always swore I would never be a mom that dreaded summers. But, one of the things motherhood has taught me is how to eat the many words I said before I was a mom.

That is one of the reasons I love my new book: I Was A Really Good Mom Before I Had Kids. In my last post I talked about my fast from parenting how-to books which is one of the things I love about this book. Distancing itself from the how-to's, this book does a fantastic job of bringing to light what all of us struggle with as parents. The authors are two moms who became friends when their children were born and they found motherhood to be more overwhelming than they'd expected. Author Amy Nobile says, "I didn't feel I had permission to talk abotu how hard motherhood really was." This started a quest to discover if other moms were going through the same thing. This book was born out of their conversations with hundreds of women.

I found out about this book on a show Oprah did about mothers. The show was full of mothers confessing their "dirty little secrets." These secrets from moms are scattered throughout the book too. The show was hilarious and if you have five minutes, it's worth taking a look at.

The authors spoke on the show about the process of interviewing mothers and how difficult it was to get women to open up with what they really felt about motherhood. "We feel like we don't have permission to admit that it's really hard, so we're all walking around with these smiles on our faces, but really we feel alone," Amy says.

I think this statement speaks volumes to any woman, but it needs to speak especially to those of us in the church. If we are truly seeking our identity in Christ, not in who we are as mothers or how we feel about motherhood, then we should have the freedom to be honest. More than any other community, the church should feel like the place where your motherhood is not under examination, your individuality is appreciated, and you are free from fear of failure.

Do we have that type of community at Riverside? Has that been your experience? Before we start a dialogue on this I encourage you to ask yourself in what ways you've helped or hurt an atmosphere of honesty. I know I've been humbled through the years and still have some more humility to learn. God is breaking me of the need to have it together and appear "in control" of my children. I am convicted that just by living like I need to have it together in front of other moms creates an atmosphere that makes other feel like they have to as well. I commit to you, my community of moms at Riverside, to try to live more honestly in front of you and at home.

In the spirit of honesty here are just five of my "dirty little secrets";

1. On a good week my children get two baths. Many times we are lucky to get one in a week.
2. I didn't start brushing Tyler's teeth until he was three and even now it's sporadic at best.
3. I've bleached my two-year old son's facial hair.
4. I yell at my children way too much and in ways that would completely mortify me if anyone heard me.
5. I don't like motherhood as much as I thought I would.

- Kim Janous

Music of the Mundane

A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of seeing The Decemberists in concert for the third time.  They were playing their new album, The Hazards of Love, straight through, which was appropriate since the whole album is a continuous story, a rock-opera really, that tells the tale of a shape-shifting beast who kidnaps and impregnates a young girl at the behest of an evil queen who is intent on keeping said girl from her adopted son.  In typical Decemberist’s fashion, the young lovers die together at the end as they recite their wedding vows to one another on a sinking ship.  It’s really not as bizarre as it sounds…in fact, I titled this post Music of the Mundane precisely because I find that so much of their music celebrates the mundane aspects of life, apologizing for losing a friend’s bike, awkward romances and subsequent break-ups…and occasionally they throw in a song about a man who finds a crane who he nurses back to health and then marries, you know, the stuff of everyday life. 

What I find fascinating about their music, is that even at their most fantastical and ridiculous (hands down The Mariner’s Revenge) they are really just telling stories.  They’re poets with almost no concern for metaphor.  It’s almost as if their music is there just to recount tales, with rarely and agenda or concern for greater meaning.  But what I love is that I find their music incredibly meaningful in that it celebrates life in such a way as not to belittle any experience, profession or relationship.  It celebrates the most ordinary, and extraordinary, aspects of life, and holds them side-by-side as equally significant, and really not that different.

- Brian Janous

Exploration

An odd idea popped into a conversation with a friend the other evening over drinks. It was one of those ideas that exposes my limited biblical knowledge, but an idea that helps me to engage in Christian thinking in a way that is exciting and interesting. The idea was this...Did Jesus choose the disciples or did the disciples choose Jesus?

 

My friend initial scoffed at the question, and I guess her reaction was based on her belief that God is omniscience so Jesus certainly had the disciples picked out ahead of time. The logic would then proceed that he knew the exact combination of people that he wanted to truly become followers. The perfect combination of strengths and weaknesses to form this cohesive band of brothers that could carry on his word after his death and ressurrection. Jesus in this thinking would be the master of group dynamics, organizational management, and systems thinking.

 

I sometimes wonder if it would be easier to stop my thinking, call the above statement a fact and move on, but something doesn't seem complete in this line of thinking. Is it possible that Jesus allowed for his disciples to grow a bit more organically with folks drifting into the center, testing the water of sacrifice and travel and then declining the opportunity until there was a solid group of great men to travel and grow together? Maybe Jesus knew that he could mold whatever individuals eventually committed to being with him. Did he really need a tax collector or fisherman? Sure, they both provide great metaphor, but if they were substituted with men from other professions, Jesus could have still turned them into great disciples for the cause, right?

 

It would be difficult to imagine that there weren't hundreds of people trying to be a part of the inner circle. Some probably lasted days or weeks in their efforts until it became too hard.  Others probably stopped believing in Jesus as Lord and Savior, while others probably bowed to other pressures. The twelve disciples in my mind seem to have been hardened and nutured through a more complex selection process, one that called for sacrifice and faith. The final 12 disciples seem as though they were culled from a larger mass of interested followers, and not appointed on day one by Jesus as chosen ones.

 

I am certain that there are much wiser biblical scholars out there that can speak to this question, but the beauty of the Riverside community is that we allow individuals to explore faith in a variety of ways. I need this space to explore my thinking and questions about faith without a one sentence answer or judgement placed on my growing interesting in matters of faith. I hope that my entries continue to start conversations, disrupt easy answers, and frustrate conventional wisdom.

- Dr. Robert Dillon

The thing about Oprah is....

There are several things I love about this clip: 

1.  It’s from 30 Rock, my favorite show.

2.  It has Oprah in it.

3.  Saltwater taffy is mentioned...twice

4.  Did I mention it has Oprah?

5.  Bowel movements are also mentioned (you might recall my preference for a good poop joke)

6.  Tina Fey is a genius who manages to expose my own deep desire to idolize people before my creator...namely, Oprah (at least in this clip).

 

I love Oprah.  I think she is a smart lady.  She has what must be the greatest job in the world, and she gets paid a lot to do it.  She gives to charity, she builds schools in Africa, she takes her employees on Mediterranean cruises.  If you don’t like Oprah, you probably just don’t watch her show enough.  It’s on at 4 pm on KSDK, just in case you’re curious.  My favorites are the ones with Dr. Oz.  He has taught me a lot about my bowels.

 

However, from the perspective of a christian, here’s the thing about Oprah: She’s an idol.  Perhaps the original ‘american idol’.  She has millions of followers.  People wait for years to get tickets to her show.  They blindly follow her advise on topics ranging from finances, health, spirituality and entertainment.  People look to Oprah to tell them what to use, say, feel, do, and even think.  I personally will admit to being a member of The Oprah Book Club.  It’s not like I need to be, I read quite a lot on my own.  But Oprah invited me to join, so I thought 'why not'?  Turns out though, most of those books are really depressing.  Good, but depressing.

Idolatry is no joke for God.  He doesn’t like it one bit.  He warns against it all over the place in the Bible.  People pay some crazy penalties for worshiping false idols (sorry Israel, you brought that on yourself).  There is the whole first and second commandments thing.  And then later on, in Romans 1:25, Paul lays it out like this: “They exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator—who is forever praised. Amen.”  Oh snap!

 

I’m glad that God is jealous.  My heart is so prone to idolize things/people that don’t want or deserve my worship.  That’s what is so tricky about examining our ‘culture’, at least for me.  I have to keep my guard up.  I enjoy a good story so much that I often lose myself in it.  I listen to music and feel like the songwriter is ‘singing my life with their words.’  And sometimes, I admire people (artists) to the point where I would gladly trade my life situation for their own.  The real trick for me is to step back and give glory to the Creator, not the creation.  It’s not easy.  I’m still figuring that out.  I'm sure I'll get it soon though, right?

 

That’s what I love the most about this 30 Rock clip.  Tina Fey exposes my own personal struggle with Oprah worship in a clever and hilarious way.  The good news is that I can confidently say that while I do adore Miss Winfrey, I have done my best not to dip her in gold and pray to her image.  Not anymore, at least.

-Anne Simon

A Daughter’s Reflection/My Mother’s Eyes

I sit in the driver’s seat uncomfortably aware of my elderly mother staring at me. I steal a quick glance at her and state more than ask, “What?”

  “Nothing,” she replies, “Just looking at you.”

   “Oh,” I reply, mildly annoyed.

   This has happened on other occasions in the past year and I think, “This is just part of the getting older scene. Less tact, less inhibitions, a certain rudeness or inappropriateness of social behavior that seems to come with the terrain.”

   Later, I speak with my girlfriend about this and how it makes me feel uncomfortable.

   Over the phone, across the miles her reply takes a moment to be formed. Then, “Don’t you ever, or haven’t you ever found yourself staring at your girls, just wanting to drink them in? I mean, it’s as if I am trying to memorize every plane and detail of Em’s facial features. All the subtle nuances, the essence of who this daughter of mine is. Don’t you think that maybe that’s what your mom may be doing?”

   I am stopped short by this. My mom and I have never connected well emotionally. She admits she never was good at showing affection. She said that physical affection was never a part of her family dynamics growing up, but she never doubted that she was loved. I thrived on physical displays of affection and affirmation and only my dad did that. I needed my mother’s love that way. Parts of me were stunted by its absence.

   Maybe now in the twighlight of her life she is trying to somehow connect with me on an emotional level. She certainly has become more desirous of hugs, when I arrive and when I leave. And, she holds on longer and longer each time.

   Maybe she’s afraid of forgetting me, losing me, either because her mind is changing rapidly and she’s aware of it, or because she knows she’s closer every day to leaving this realm. Maybe she’s trying to commit me to memory, this woman who’s complicated and struggling with her and her demise; commit her memory of me to a place deep in her heart that will never slip away. Maybe she fears losing me in her memory as much as I fear it.

   Maybe she just realized all the years she let go by without holding, touching, and loving me the way I thought I needed it and now is pouring her love and affection into me by this one act. By absorbing me through the windows to her soul, her eyes, and holding me there in her mother’s heart for eternity.

   Maybe, God in his wisdom knew that in order to love my own daughters and son well, lavishing physical affection on them as they grew up and once they were adults, I needed to be starved of that in my own life. Then, in the intricate thread of His redemption woven into my life and the remaking of my life’s story, on all levels, He used that hunger for me to know and understand the power of a mother’s heart and affection in her child’s life. Maybe in the midst of it all I am finally being loved and held in the arms of my mom through His amazing grace and during this last chapter and season of our lives together here!

- Marsha Lang

Sometimes it isn't ironic, it just sucks.

I play guitar for Riverside once a month or so.  Last Sunday I played, and completely butchered, a classic hymn.  For those of you who took piano lessons, the song was supposed to be in 3/4 and I started it up in 4/4.  For those of you who didn't take piano lessons there was one beat too many every line.  Basically I accidently caused a classic song that everyone knows to have a bit of a swing.  Much to the credit of the other four musicians onstage we made it through the song, and it even started sounding kind of cool the last couple of verses.

Most of the congregation probably couldn't have told you what exactly was wrong with the song, but I assure you most of the congregation thought that if felt wrong.  The reason I am telling you all of this is that I feel that it is very similar to sin in my life.  There are so many things that I fail in daily.  Things that I know about, and am embarrassed by.  Even though very few people at church yesterday knew I was the one who messed up the song, I knew, and I felt shame (I'm over it now though).  

Also, like yesterday, there are a few people around me who are quite aware of it when I sin.  My family and close friends feel the direct consequences just like the band in being forced to adjust to my error.

Finally, the big picture.  My sin might not directly effect everyone I come in contact with daily, but due to my imperfect nature things are just a bit off, they don't quite feel right, just like that hymn yesterday.

Fortunately we have a perfect savior.  Despite my sin, God uses me and sanctifies me.  Despite my screw up yesterday God's name was praised...be thou my vision, oh Ruler of all.

Planet Reebok

The current series at Riverside is on the beatitudes, and yesterday we explored, "Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the Earth."

One of the illustrations I dropped during my sermon was about basketball. I play on a team with some old friends and some guys from the church. Matt McReynolds would tell you he is not very meek... Anyway, last Monday we got killed. During the thrashing the other team was talking a lot of smack/junk/trash. Their captain in particular likes to talk for most of the game. This became funny when Doug Coleman began harassing him all over the court. Doug, strong as an ox with a huge grin on his face, talking back (but kindly) and telling me later, "I just wanted to mess with him to see what he would do... grown men shouldn't act the way he was acting." Doug can do that because the other man couldn't just squash doug with a finger (like he could to me). I should also mention that this particular team thinks Steve Bell is Kobe.

ANYWAY, what I noticed is that they talk a lot more when winning. When we have beaten them they talk to the referees.

This also reminded me of playing pick up basketball in college. There are 50 guys I can think of - that I played with hundreds of times throughout my time at Mizzou - who do not know my name. But, they know my friend Jody's name. The difference is performance. Jody's nickname was the Matrix because many of the guys weren't sure why he could score as many as he could on them. But, they knew his real name also. Antonio, Junior, Brooks, Shackleford, Chuck, the other Chuck... Guys I played in pick up games with and against, league games with and against... some of them fought with some of my closer friends and we broke up the fights. The point is that respect is earned there. Humanity, to some degree, is fully dependent upon what you can (or cannot) do. I still love basketball, and I even understand this dynamic. But, it is hard and sad also.

In the Beatitudes Jesus is imagining a community, a humanity, and a world where humanity is simply based upon humanity. Where the world is ruled by a just order, where people assert justice and not their own selfish interests (which is a working definition of meekness). And Jesus says that the people who follow Him will begin to evidence these traits today. It is a scary and beautiful reality that the subversive, revolutionary Gospel of God dignifies us with such a role. To move into the world evidencing our inadequacy, our meekness, our willingness to mourn...