Chapter 8 - Partnership (and other ramblings)
I'm at the beginning of a fun, full weekend. We're surprising my mother in law tomorrow night with a party to celebrate her 75th birthday. I love my mother in law so much. I haven't had a mom for a little over twenty years now. It's something you get used to, but as you approach living without a mother for nearly half your life, you sometimes forget what it felt like to have one. It's hard enough to remember myself being 28. My son is nearly 30.
Just writing what I did in the first paragraph brought tears to my eyes and pain to my heart. I miss my mom. I wish she could see her great grandchildren. Heck, I wish she could have known all of her grandchildren. The majority of them were born after her death. She was a great grandma and a role model to me. I have always wanted to be a Grandma Jane kind of grandma to my grandchildren. She adored Danny and always wanted him. Whatever she was doing, he could hang out with her. She didn't mind taking him wherever she was going. I'm so thankful he had her until he was nine. Grandma Jane was Danny's best friend for all nine of those years. I hope my own grandsons will feel as close to their Grandma Shari.
I didn't start out to write about the loss of my mom, but it came out so I'm leaving it. I started out to say how much my mother in law means to me. But part of why she means so much to me (besides being wonderful) is that she has filled a void in my heart that's been there a long time. It takes a special person to fill a void like that. She loves me like a mom and like a friend. She loves me for who I am, which I have enjoyed little of in my life. ; ) I enjoy her company and feel completely at ease with her. I can't say that I felt completely at ease with my mom. We were very different and I didn't feel accepted by her for who I was. I always felt like I wasn't exactly who she wished I was. But I know that's common with mothers and daughters. At the end of her life, I know she knew how much I loved her and I certainly knew she loved and appreciated me. I often wonder if she would like me as I am today. There are things about my life she would be very pleased about. Still, I know she would not completely approve of or understand me in all areas. But she would love me. And that is all we can really ask of our parents. They are, after all, just people. Flawed, like us.
I will be busy all weekend and probably won't be posting again till Monday. I thought I might go ahead and post something on chapter eight, so I reread it first thing this morning. There is a lot to comment on in this chapter on partnership with God. But my favorite part of the chapter was the ending. Yancey described how we partner with God to bring about His will in the earth by telling this story:
My pastor spent a day of hard labor installing stone steps in his backyard. The individual stones weighed between a hundred and two hundred pounds, and it took all of Peter's strength and a few tools to manuever them into place. His five-year-old daughter begged to help. When he suggested she just sing, to encourage him in his work, she said no. She wanted to help. Carefully, when it would not endanger her, he let her place her hands on the rocks and push as he moved them.
Peter admitted later that Becky's assistance actually complicated the task. He could have built the steps in less time without her "help." At the end of the day, though, he had not only new steps but a daughter bursting with pride and a sense of accomplishment. "Me and Dad made steps," she announced at dinner that night. And he would be the first to agree.
It is so true of my helping. I'm sure I complicate things more than I actually help. But God is so gracious and merciful. He still wants our help, even though it's so inadequate for the task at hand. Yancey frequently talks about God needing human help. I do not view God as needing anything I can provide. I have come to see that outlook as elevating man and diminishing God, although I doubt anyone sets out to do that. Rather than needing us, I believe God chooses to work through human vessels (mere clay pots), in spite of all our cracks. I'm thankful He is so patient and long-suffering with me.
In every chapter, Yancey includes reflections from a variety of sources. I thought this one was worth posting.
A Franciscan Benediction
May God bless you with discomfort
At easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships
So that you may live deep within your heart.
May God bless you with anger
At injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people,
So that you may work for justice, freedom and peace.
May God bless you with tears
To shed for those in pain, rejection, hunger and war,
So that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and
to turn their pain into joy.
And may God bless you with enough foolishness
To believe that you can make a difference in the world,
So that you can do what others claim cannot be done
To bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor.
Amen
Just writing what I did in the first paragraph brought tears to my eyes and pain to my heart. I miss my mom. I wish she could see her great grandchildren. Heck, I wish she could have known all of her grandchildren. The majority of them were born after her death. She was a great grandma and a role model to me. I have always wanted to be a Grandma Jane kind of grandma to my grandchildren. She adored Danny and always wanted him. Whatever she was doing, he could hang out with her. She didn't mind taking him wherever she was going. I'm so thankful he had her until he was nine. Grandma Jane was Danny's best friend for all nine of those years. I hope my own grandsons will feel as close to their Grandma Shari.
I didn't start out to write about the loss of my mom, but it came out so I'm leaving it. I started out to say how much my mother in law means to me. But part of why she means so much to me (besides being wonderful) is that she has filled a void in my heart that's been there a long time. It takes a special person to fill a void like that. She loves me like a mom and like a friend. She loves me for who I am, which I have enjoyed little of in my life. ; ) I enjoy her company and feel completely at ease with her. I can't say that I felt completely at ease with my mom. We were very different and I didn't feel accepted by her for who I was. I always felt like I wasn't exactly who she wished I was. But I know that's common with mothers and daughters. At the end of her life, I know she knew how much I loved her and I certainly knew she loved and appreciated me. I often wonder if she would like me as I am today. There are things about my life she would be very pleased about. Still, I know she would not completely approve of or understand me in all areas. But she would love me. And that is all we can really ask of our parents. They are, after all, just people. Flawed, like us.
I will be busy all weekend and probably won't be posting again till Monday. I thought I might go ahead and post something on chapter eight, so I reread it first thing this morning. There is a lot to comment on in this chapter on partnership with God. But my favorite part of the chapter was the ending. Yancey described how we partner with God to bring about His will in the earth by telling this story:
My pastor spent a day of hard labor installing stone steps in his backyard. The individual stones weighed between a hundred and two hundred pounds, and it took all of Peter's strength and a few tools to manuever them into place. His five-year-old daughter begged to help. When he suggested she just sing, to encourage him in his work, she said no. She wanted to help. Carefully, when it would not endanger her, he let her place her hands on the rocks and push as he moved them.
Peter admitted later that Becky's assistance actually complicated the task. He could have built the steps in less time without her "help." At the end of the day, though, he had not only new steps but a daughter bursting with pride and a sense of accomplishment. "Me and Dad made steps," she announced at dinner that night. And he would be the first to agree.
It is so true of my helping. I'm sure I complicate things more than I actually help. But God is so gracious and merciful. He still wants our help, even though it's so inadequate for the task at hand. Yancey frequently talks about God needing human help. I do not view God as needing anything I can provide. I have come to see that outlook as elevating man and diminishing God, although I doubt anyone sets out to do that. Rather than needing us, I believe God chooses to work through human vessels (mere clay pots), in spite of all our cracks. I'm thankful He is so patient and long-suffering with me.
In every chapter, Yancey includes reflections from a variety of sources. I thought this one was worth posting.
A Franciscan Benediction
May God bless you with discomfort
At easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships
So that you may live deep within your heart.
May God bless you with anger
At injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people,
So that you may work for justice, freedom and peace.
May God bless you with tears
To shed for those in pain, rejection, hunger and war,
So that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and
to turn their pain into joy.
And may God bless you with enough foolishness
To believe that you can make a difference in the world,
So that you can do what others claim cannot be done
To bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor.
Amen
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