Spirit-Led Parenting - A Guest Post

One of the great joys of blogging the last two years has been the discovery of a rich community life out here in cyberspace. Megan Tietz and Laura Oyer are two of the many women it has been my privilege to come to 'know,' courtesy of the internet. I read a review of their parenting book early this year and was really impressed. So, I ordered four copies! There were four expectant couples in our church community at that time and I could  think of no better gift than an 'instruction' book that basically said - listen to your baby and to your own heart and toss out all the 'shoulds.'  They're entering round two of the required (and important) PR work for their fine book and I am delighted and honored to host this essay from Laura as they make the rounds of about a dozen blogs in the next few days. I encourage you to interact with Laura here, to think about the questions she asks, and to reflect on your own parenting experiences (if you have children) or about parenting you've observed (if you don't have kids). Just opening the door and saying,  "Hey, I'm not sure about this...what have YOU tried?" can be a tremendously freeing experience. So, go for it!

Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.  2 Corinthians 3:17

I’ll begin with an honest admission:  I like rules.  I share in the opening chapter of our book that my nightmare assignments in school days were those with an open structure.  Options?  No, thank you.  I prefer guidelines and no-fail directions toward certain success. 

I expected the rules I’d heard for parenting a new baby to lead to that neat-and-tidy success found by so many.  Instead, they didn’t work for me or my baby, and I lived for a time in terror over the implications of what that failure would mean.

As Megan shared yesterday at O My Family, one of the bonds that deepened our friendship and led us to write this book was that we both entered parenthood bound as slaves to fear.  Our purpose in sharing our tear-stained stories is to encourage others navigating life with an infant, inviting them to the pursuit of another way. 

There is an approach to parenting that looks fear in the face and boldly speaks an answer:  Freedom.  Freedom from required formulas, unrealistic expectations of our children and ourselves, and the belief that we must force our babies to fit into a mold that may not have been designed for them.  

– Spirit-Led Parenting, page 42

When we live in fear, we resist the freedom that serves as a banner proclaiming the presence of the Spirit.  Yet Megan and I each found that in spite of our resistance, God beckoned us through the heartache of frustration and failure and offered us an approach to caring for our babies that we desperately wish we had known from the very beginning.  He was calling us into freedom.

• Freedom to follow His lead first and foremost in our parenting.

• Freedom to trust in the example of God’s Father heart, Christ’s call to servanthood, and the Spirit’s constant presence as we care for our babies.

• Freedom to extend grace to those who parent differently, knowing that our Lord leads us individually, according to His flawless will and timing, to answers perfectly suited to our families.

• Freedom to fail - understanding that perfect parenthood is unattainable, believing that God’s redemptive grace covers our missteps, and seeing our insufficiency as opportunity for our surrender and His refinement.

It was a rocky road, learning to live out what He offered.  But as we began to let go, we gained something unexpected:  a deepening perspective on the glorious, mysterious paradox of dying to self and gaining abundant life.  As two control-loving, perfection-seeking new mothers each woke from a fear-driven haze, we discovered that the cost of our new freedom in parenthood was not at all what we’d expected. 

Where once we believed we would find spoiled children and splintered marriages in the wake of our decisions to turn from the loud-and-popular advice, we found instead our own expectations and desires bowed low.  Where we once held fast to the notion that the “right” methods of baby-care would bring success, we learned that releasing our expectations gave us the freedom to truly follow the Spirit’s lead in every area of our lives.

It’s an approach that welcomes an often messy journey.  One that comes with sacrifice, as is always the case when we pursue a life of serving God and others.  It may mean less predictability and more time.  It may bring the uncomfortable realization that you are parenting off the beaten path, if that path where He has led some is not where He is leading you.  It may mean laying down that precious sense of control. 

But what if as that first year of babyhood winds down and a toddler stands where your baby once lay, what if you looked in the mirror and realized that the one who has grown by leaps and bounds in the past year is you?  What if you could see that in most every situation you encounter, your first response is no longer selfish retreat, but rather selfless embrace?

Would it make you smile with humble gratitude to recognize that in each moment you chose to approach your baby with a heart filled by the Spirit, you were able to more closely relate to and identify with your Lord Jesus Christ than you ever had before?  If you found, for perhaps the first time, that you were truly free in Him? 

– Spirit-Led Parenting, page 54

Living and parenting in freedom is a daily – and often difficult – choice.  We have heard from countless new parents through the years at different points in the journey, and believe that safe and honest discussions can encourage one another along the way.  Will you share your thoughts here today? 

What aspects of parenting in freedom appeal most to you, and which do/did you find most uncomfortable or hardest to embrace?  How has God used your role as a parent for your own spiritual growth, or how do you suspect He may want to do so?

We are deeply honored to share in this space today, and look forward to hearing from you! Find us tomorrow with a post at Narrow Paths to Higher Places

Spirit-Led Parenting is the first release from authors Megan Tietz and Laura Oyer. Megan writes about faith, family and natural living at SortaCrunchy and lives in Oklahoma City with her husband and two daughters. Laura blogs her reflections on the real and ridiculous things of life at In The Backyard, and makes her home in Indiana with her husband, daughter, and son.

"A Light Shining" - A Book Review

I have absolutely no interest in the Twilight series and I'm not into zombie television, either. What I am into is good story-telling about interesting characters who are struggling with real life issues, trying somehow, by the grace of God, to be the best people they can be. 

That's why I love Michael and Sarah Kent-Hughes. When "The Dancing Priest" was released at the dawn of 2012, I wrote about it in a post describing the power of a good romance. And that book was indeed a most excellent romance, filled with powerful plot twists, intriguing characters, and a happy ending. That's where I met Michael and Sarah and as I finished that first volume of their story, I heaved a happy sigh.

And almost immediately, experienced a deep longing for more. More story, more surprises, more intrigue, more romance. Happily, I soon discovered that Glynn Young, the outlandishly talented and prolific author of "The Dancing Priest," was not done with Michael and Sarah's story, either. 

Phew!

Well. Volume 2 in the continuing saga releases on Kindle TODAY, and is available at Amazon now.  If you have read the first book, go out there and buy this one now. If you have not read the first one -- it is FREE until midnight, so download both of them tonight and have a rich reading experience over the next few days! 

"A Light Shining," is a very different book from, "The Dancing Priest." Yes, the same characters are here and some fascinating new ones, too. Yes, there is, once again, cross-continental travel in this saga, as well as glimpses into Michael's everyday life as an Anglican priest. But from the very first sentence, you know that we are most definitely not in Kansas anymore. There is something ominous afoot, a threat that hangs heavy over every page. 

Initially, I found this almost 0ff-putting. I love these characters and did not want anything terrible to happen to them! So as the story began, I was cautious. However, I was very quickly drawn into the unfolding of this drama, once again a willing and happy prisoner of the strong plotting and wonderful characters. I will not go into that plot in this review because I actually think that sense of dread is important to the reading of this particular story. Rather than romance, this story is filled with mystery and intrigue, hooking you early and well.

This much I will tell you: not one of us knows what the future holds, even what the next moment might bring. Perhaps we'll have some old questions answered in amazing ways (one character finds a family he never knew). Perhaps we'll meet someone who will become dear to us, becoming part of whatever family we have (a couple of those turn up in this story). Perhaps life will be turned completely upside down in a matter of minutes, with the outcome decidedly uncertain and deeply frightening (yes, that happens, too). 

It's all here and it's all worth reading, believe me. You will be surprised, frightened, amazed and teary-eyed - the full spectrum! The central character of both these books is a priest, so be aware that people pray, talk about God a lot and even have their lives dramatically changed as they open themselves to God's good work within. The story ranges far and wide and heads in directions that readers of the first book may find surprising. And as it ends, there is an open door, pointing to more story to come. May it be so!

Letters to Me - A Book Review

Over the course of the next few months, there will be a number of small-press books making their way out into public view, collections of essays on a theme, carefully edited and lovingly written. This book is one of the first--and, in some ways, one of the most interesting. Nineteen writers were given this assignment: write a letter to your younger self somewhere between the ages of 18 and 30. Advise, if you must, but basically help yourself to see that things have a way of working themselves out. These letters are meant to be offerings of encouragement and hope, written from a distinctly personal and well-informed point of view. After all, the writers know the recipients intimately--more intimately than anyone else.

I was delighted to find some old 'friends' in this collection - Lyla Lindquist, Tamára Lunardo, Shawn Smucker, Charity Singleton, J.B. Wood, Lore Ferguson, Anita Mathias - people I have previously encountered through their blogs and their comments on mine. And none of them disappoints. All are fine writers, good thinkers and excellent communicators.

I loved reading about Shawn's blue-eyed girlfriend, Charity's courageous act of resignation, Tamára's heartfelt choice for life when faced with an unplanned pregnancy as a 19-year-old. Jim Wood begins with, 'GET A GRIP!'--SO perfect for many of us as we look back at our angst-ridden younger selves. But he goes on to celebrate all that happened in those long-ago years, praising and encouraging himself-from-way-back-when. I think we all need to do that from time to time, don't you? Look back with love and support?

If pushed, I guess I'd have to say that Lyla's letter was particularly poignant for me, rich with wry, careful reflection and a superb pages-long metaphor of life-as-a-Rube-Goldberg-contraption:

"So many people think there's a sure-fire, idiot-proof way to know the right thing. They get this idea that God's whole plan for every person on earth can be derailed with one small misstep. I suppose some do get a clear and certain sense of the way they are to go. But it seems that for many of us, the fleeces and pro/con lists, the long straws and coin flips are formalities. Sometimes we're going to have to 'fish or cut bait' as my dad would say. We're just going to have to make a guess. Maybe an educated guess, but it'll be a guess all the same.

"What I want you to know now is that it will work out, better than you could have known or planned. Because for many of us, life is less like following a road map than coursing through a Rube Goldberg contraption. It seems far more like an elaborate series of springs and pulleys, levers and ropes that sets a chain reaction into motion."

And she is off and running for a series of beautifully described twists and turns, rolling down ramps, across all kinds of fascinating obstacles, always following the marble on its relentless path to somewhere. It's gorgeously done and worth the price of the book all by itself.

Yes, Lyla is a friend. But she happens to be an inordinately talented one. Each person in this collection contributes to the whole in their own unique way, telling pieces of his or her story. If you know someone in this age bracket--18 to 30--who is feeling discouraged, a little bit lost, wondering where they're headed, why not purchase a copy of this book and pass it along to them? I know they'll find encouragement. I pray they'll even find a small, sunlit piece of hope to hang onto when the way ahead feels decidedly murky. 

I was given a copy of this book for review purposes but received no other compensation for this essay.

A Book Review: The Bibledude.net Community Commentary Series - Philippians

There's this dude I know - one of the very few people in the world that I actually call 'dude' - who is committed, hard-working, creative and kind. His name is Dan King and he hosts a remarkable website called Bibledude.net. He is one of a handful of bloggers that I have actually met in person and I'm here to tell you that he is the real deal. 

He lives clear across the country in Florida, loves his adorable family, travels regularly to Haiti to do compassionate work (and write about it), and he has written a book about that which I reviewed last year, called "The Unlikely Missionary."  

Last fall, he got this interesting idea: invite Bibledude readers to consider contributing to a study series on the book of Philippians. I signed up - "Why not?" I thought. So I did a little studying, wrote down my ideas and joined them with the rest of the writers. 

Little did I know that Dan, cagey entrepreneur that he is, had a creative idea brewing. "Why not," he wondered, "make this small commentary available as an e-book?" So he gathered a couple of his editors and added some word studies and a little historical background and voila! We've got ourselves an e-book. What looks like it might be the first of several in a Bibledude Community series.

What's different about this commentary is that...it's not a commentary (italics added to imply a heavy, academic, technical tome). Rather, it is a user-friendly, approachable, brief and helpful study guide for anyone wanting to extend their understanding of Paul's words to the church at Philippi. 

And it launches TODAY. Please check it out over at Dan's fine website.

TSP Book Club: Scared of the Dark

She wanted to play hide and seek.

In the dark.

This child of the light,

who loves to stride and run her way through life,

she wanted to go into the closet,

turn out the light

and, 'shhh...be quiet,' 

and hide from her beloved Poppy.

So I picked her up, held her close and shut the closet door.

She turned out the light and urged me to go further in.

Very carefully -

because it was dark in there! -

I backed us up into the furthest corner,

and waited.

"I can't see you, Nana," she whispered.

"I know. I can't see you, either." 

She wrapped her arms around me a little bit more

tightly, touching her cheek close to mine.

"Your glasses seem scary in the dark, Nana." 

"I'm sorry, honey. Can you feel them?

They're just my regular old glasses.

Nothing to be scared of." 

"They look scary," and her voice quavered just a little.

  

But here is what she did:

as she got more frightened,

she clung to me ever more tightly.

More kisses,

more strokes,

more nestling. 

We had failed to let Poppy in on the game, 

so he never did come find us.

We turned on the light,

opened the door,

and went back to our usual Wednesday happiness -

tea party, books, lunch, nap.

Later that day, as I thought about that 

sweet moment in the darkness, 

I think I finally began to understand something 

of what Julia Cameron has been trying to teach us

over at the TweetSpeak Poetry Book Club.

For the last six weeks, we've been exploring,

"The Artist's Way: 

A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity."

And I've been fighting it hard,

regularly resisting the Morning Pages,

generally keeping myself on the edge of things,

watching curiously while others test these waters.

It feels like the dark to me, you see.

Reaching into the muck that is too often my mind

(especially in the morning),

feels strange; it feels scary.

Yet I find myself resonating with much of what Julia says,

nodding at the need for self-care,

agreeing with her call

to creating space for creativity in my life.

I particularly like this sentence 

from our concluding week's assignment:

"Creativity is a spiritual practice." (pg. 182) 

I believe this with my whole heart.

I have encouraged creativity,

 in my kids,

in my home,

in my church,

in my ministry life.

Why, then, am I frightened by this 'artist's way?' 

Maybe because even familiar things can take on 

strange forms and shadows 

when we're operating in the dark. 

Maybe because I'm not sure what I'll find if 

I hang out in that dark for very long. 

Maybe because I'll discover a big

audacious dream in the middle of the muck,

and I'm not sure I can handle that. 

Maybe because I've forgotten to cling to what I do know,

to cling to Whom I know,

and to trust that who I am - 

even in the dark - 

is held,

safe,

loved. 

A little more nestling may be required.

Joining with Lyla and the gang over at TweetSpeak, with Emily for her last-for-the-summer Imperfect Prose, with Jennifer at God-Bumps and  Ann's Wednesday group:

 

 

 

True Confessions: The TSP Book Club

 Okay, it's time for the weekly check-in.

We're reading Julia Cameron's, "The Artist's Way"

over at TweetSpeak Poetry,

under the fearless leadership of Lyla Lindquist.

If you read last week's initial response to this book,

then you already know that I am

a Rebellious Resistor

to this methodology.

Which, I am told - as I read further this week -

is actually to be expected as one tries to

free one's inner artist.

So much for originality.

 I am still resisting the Morning Pages part of this experience,

or as I referred to them last week, 'the dang pages.'

I believe I did them exactly once. 

However,

I am totally embracing the Artist's Date concept.

I think  you might even say I've gone a bit overboard

in that department.

The floral pictures in this post were taken during the second

(or was it the third?) daytime treat experience of

the week just past. They were taken at a local garden,

a wondrous place called "Seaside Gardens," 

where our kids had given their dad a gift certificate for his birthday.

Oh my, did that light my inner creative fires!

(Or course, I had to break the rules a little - 

I didn't  go alone.) 

I did, however, take myself out to eat at a favorite restaurant,

with my book in hand.

AND I squeezed in a visit to a grandson's kindergarten

play, where he played the role of:

The Big Bad Wolf

in 

The Three Piggy Opera.

(here he is rubbing his hands together gleefully while

singing, "I wanna big, fat pig to eat...")

 The scary thing for me in all this is -

I am beginning to see a pattern.

A life-long pattern.

And it's nowhere near as pretty as the one

that showed up in this Norfolk Pine at the Seaside Gardens.

No, it's not pretty. At.All.

I'm beginning to see this thread,

a twisty, unattractive thread

that weaves through a lot of my life.

And it goes like this:

First,

I get scared of something or someone 

who threatens me in some way.

Or...I get tired/frustrated/overwhelmed

by expectations - mine and/or others.

Step Two? 

I get angry inside.

Pitiful, really.

Sort of carpy, cranky, testy,

defensive, self-righteous,

judgmental.

You get the picture.

Not a lovely one, is it?

And thirdly? I try to hide what I'm feeling

or what I'm frightened about.

And you want to know how I've done that for most of my life?

By eating too much.

By covering myself in layers of insulation.

By hiding all the fear and all the anger

beneath a protective covering. 

(Did you notice that I went out to eat for my Artist's Date?

And that my grandson was singing about eating??

I jest...but only a little.) 

I've had some success in the last year or two with 

shedding pieces of that covering.

But I gotta say,

this book is bringing out the worst in me.

How childish is that??

I mean, really.

What have I got to be angry or defensive about?

She asked us to make a list of favorite things we like to do

and then to write down when we did them last.

And almost all of them I've done in the last week,

3 or 4 of them as I was making the list!

And my 'Life Pie,' which one of our chapters this week 

asked us to draw?

Aside from confirming the fact 

that I cannot draw a pie to save my life,
my six areas are in pretty decent balance.

And the list of 10 small changes we'd like to make

in our lives?

Perhaps this says it all:

Item number 10 on my list?

"I would like to wring Julia's neck."

I wish I could report that I'm making great progress,

leaps and bounds kind of progress,

in letting go of this resistance.

But as you can see,

I'm not leaping and bounding anywhere,

except perhaps straight into the Slough of Despond.

One tiny ray of light, of hope this week?

I did enjoy writing down 5 childhood characteristics

that I like about myself.

I share this with you very hesitantly, however,

 as it probably tells you more about me

than I really want you to know.

But here they are:

1. Inquisitive

2. Bossy 

(bossy? who puts bossy on their list?)

3. Responsible

4. Lighthearted

5. A voracious reader 

Truly, dear reader, do you think there is any hope for me?

Joining once again with the gang over at Tweetspeak, hoping they will not give up on me just yet.
You can check out the other posts in this collection by going here:

Resistance & Rebellion - Living with My Inner Artist

She went with us to the Caribbean,

in all her multiple-quotation,

list-of-affirmations,

call-to-creativity glory.

And I dutifully read all of the introductory

material and chapter one,

learning about such things as 

the brains we all juggle

(Logic/Artist);

the principles of creativity 

and why we need to live by them;

the powerful voice of the Inner Censor.

And most appropriately,

I learned about the Creative Block.

Why appropriate, you ask?

Because at the end of it all,

I found myself in the middle of

a big, fat, nasty one,

 that's why.

I was on vacation.

And Julia asked me to commit to

WORK.

Morning pages,

an Artist's Date,

Weekly Check-Ins,

a timeline look back at my life,

in search of Monsters who might

have stifled my budding artistic genius.

But here's something you may not know about me:

I am, at heart, a Rebel.

I know, I know.

I don't look like a rebel at all.

I am a 'good girl' 

(if people of my age are allowed 

to refer to themselves as 'girls').

I'm a pastor, for pete's sake.

I'm older.

I dress conservatively

(except for the occasional wild and crazy color 

and a whole lotta jewelry).

I take care of others.

Yes, I do a whole of that last one.

I take care of others.

I read the Bible and I do so

because I believe that I meet God there.

I am a centrist theologically.

I am a centrist in most things.

But.

I resist following the rules.

I resent being told how to do things.

I don't tolerate what I perceive to be 'fluff' too well.

My eyes tend to glaze over when

I read the words 'affirmation'

or ' creative recovery.'

Imagine my response, then, to this volume.

Oh, I've underlined it aplenty,

I've even got stars and creased corners on

lots and lots of pages.

I actually liked a lot of what I read,

agreed with it, too.

Until I got to the part where I had to do something about it.

Yeah, that's when the Rebel showed up.

Don't know if she's related to the Inner Censor,

but I have a hunch they're kissin' cousins.

Because once I started reading about what I

needed to do to release my Inner Artist -

I started to push back, HARD.

First of all, I don't do longhand anymore.

Never was good at it 

(yes, that's the voice of the Inner Censor - 

but it's also the voice of reality), 

I hate doing it and can't really read what I write anymore.

(Of course, we're not supposed to read this stuff.

We're just supposed to write it.)

And I'm not a morning person.

AT ALL.

And in my dotage,

I indulge my non-morning-ness whenever I can.

So the two times I actually did write the dang pages,

it was well into mid-day. 

The Artist's Date?

Now, that's something I can wrap my mind around.

In fact, it's something I actually already do, 

although I've never called it that.

I seek solitude, often at the beach or a favorite restaurant,

and I look for beauty wherever I go.

That one was a cinch.

The timeline I got to today.

And here's what I discovered -

the biggest Monster in my story is...

ME.

Yup. I get in my own way more than anyone else ever has.

Sure, my mom (and my dad) had hopelessly high

expectations for me when I was a child.

They were both artists in their own way

and my small muscle development was lousy

(remember what I said about handwriting earlier?).

So I just quit trying to do anything with my hands.

And I quite trying very, very early. 

I couldn't play piano like my dad or my brother.

I couldn't draw or create beauty like my mother,

so I didn't do it.

Ever.

Until I went to college and no longer felt the weight of my parents' abilities pressing in on me every single day.

And when I began to venture out a little here,

a little there, it turned out I could do some things

acceptably well. 

Not great, but okay.

But the real, true chicken-heart was inside me,

not my parents, not my teachers, not my friends,

not my employers.

Me. 

So.

Now I'm facing this HUGE block.

No ideas.

No desire.

No sense of call.

No sense of giftedness.

Nada.

Zilch.

Think maybe I'm just the teensiest bit resistant?

The Rebellious Resistor.

Pretty much my middle name.

Sigh.

Joining with Lyla and the gang over at Tweetspeak Poetry for the interactive posting about Julia Cameron's classic book, "The Artist's Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity." As you can tell, I have a lot of inner work to do. Oy vey. Lord, have mercy.