Author: lauracrosby (Page 40 of 45)

The Spiritual Discipline of Plan B

February 10, 2012 /

Ice cubes.  6 small potatoes.  A get-well card.

Sometimes in line at the grocery store don’t you feel like the check-out folks are wondering, “What’s she really up to??”

In this case, each item represented “Plan B” on a day that screamed “I live a PLAN B LIFE!” in big and small ways.

  • The ice cubes were for our broken ice maker.
  • The potatoes for a recipe gone wrong.
  • The card for a friend having a double mastectomy.

But this was just a small glimpse of bigger realities of disappointments and losses that got me asking questions like:

  • Lord, why is everyone else always in control and why do I never get my way?  (Clearly no Theresa of Avila here!)
  • Where are You in this and what are You trying to teach me?  Submission?  Humility?  Trust in your redemptive power? (Could I have Door 2 instead please?)
  • Is there anyone not living a “Plan B” life?  (Hard for me to think of anyone, but then I didn’t really want to think about anyone else cuz this was all about ME!)
  • How did Your Bible guys handle Plan B’s?  (Moses, David, Abraham, Paul…wow, a lot of Plan B’s)

Somehow, the most important Plan B discipline for the Bible guys seemed to be leaning in.  Not understanding necessarily.  Not having 1-2-3 answers.  But having the faith to say, “I choose to believe in you, God, more than this disappointment.”

Perhaps the spiritual discipline of Plan B involves giving up the illusion of control…giving up trying to write our own story and letting God write His story through us.

Or this…One line stood out in my Bible reading yesterday morning…”Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone?…How much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask Him?” (Mt.7)  I wonder how often God’s bread just looks like a stone to me because I think I know better than Him how my good gift should appear.  Part of the discipline of Plan B seems to be trusting in God’s goodness...His identity even when we can’t see or understand His activity.

Clearly I don’t have this figured out.  This is just me, wrestling with God after a Plan B day in a Plan B life.

I like to have a plan for everything.  And like all people, I like the plan to go my way.  Plan B is not my strong suit, but maybe it is actually my sweet spot (and yours), because it puts me where God wants me, needing to lean into Him.  For His grace.  His presence.  His power.  His understanding.

What’s your Plan B situation?  What are you learning in it about spiritual discipline?

A resource you might want to pick up if you’re struggling with this is Pete Wilson’s book titled Plan B!

Bubble Wrap and Three Responses to Criticism

February 8, 2012 /

This was a text I received from daughter Maggie awhile ago:

“This afternoon a man from the DC Legislature and Regulatory Services in the office next door reprimanded me for playing with bubble wrap too loudly.

BTW, You raised me.” 

Hmmm…Really.

This text raises so many questions.

The Jesus-y way people used to say this back in the day was “I rebuke thee!”  And it came with flames of fire, and lightning bolts.  Like Jason Bourne, Bruce Lee, and 007 doing their super hero moves in a whirlwind smack down of high kicks, karate chops, back flips and flying tackles.

Rebuking seems like the biblical free clobber card although these days it often comes under the guise of “doing a Matthew 18:15”.  If we’re honest, sometimes I think we can enjoy being the clobberer (or imagining it), but as the clobberee we usually we feel like we’re picking ourselves up off the matt, bruised and bloody after being called out.

A few weeks ago I was corrected loudly and publicly for a mistake I made.  Then later in the day I was scolded for something I wrote.  It felt like Simon Cowell had told me he had never heard anyone with less talent.  On national t.v.  Want-to-crawl-in-a-hole-pain-full.

We Christians don’t like making mistakes.  It’s so, you know…ungodly.

Once in awhile critique comes wrapped in love from those close to us, like Mr. Rogers putting his arm around us and gently saying “You messed up, but it’s ok.  We all do.  You’re still a part of the neighborhood.”

But more often it comes from a stranger and it feels like Mark Driscoll has put us on his “Jesus hates you” hit list.

All this bubble wrap stuff has made me think about the ways we usually respond to criticism or correction.

1.  We hold hoard it like an 80 year old grandma saving plastic baggies to reuse.  We let it define us.  Maggie could see herself forever as the “Bubble Wrap Bimbo.”  Let it drown out any affirmation.  Research shows that it typically takes 4 positive interactions with someone to offset one negative one.  We’re giving reprimands a lot of power!  Maggie might so focus on the rebuke that she’d miss the three other compliments on her creative bubble dance moves, her cat-like reflexes, and her innovative use of trash.

2.  We rebuke the rebuker.  Replay the conversation in our heads complete with witty original comebacks.  In these scenarios we always emerge righteous and are able to do an end-zone victory dance with moves like Victor Cruz in the Super Bowl while the other person begs forgiveness for being  SO wrong about us.  Victim turned Victor.

3.  We look for the truth, learn from it, and move on.  Borrrrring, you say?  Yeah, and it’s about as easy for me as competitors on the Amazing Race, sifting through the mud to come up with the prized Japanese frog.  But I’ve seen it done so I know it’s possible.

What might a frog from the mud text from Maggie to Regulatory Guy look like?

RG, Sorry the noise bothered u.  It was thoughtless of me not 2 tone it down, but bubble wrap is joy in plastic!  Next time I’ll invite u 2 join us in the dance.  Have a great day! 😉

Just recently Mark Batterson tweeted, “Criticism, even unfair criticism, can be a blessing in disguise. It keeps you humble.”                                                                              Great.  Thanks.  Yea for humility.

I’m trying.  End zone victory dance fantasies aside, my prayer this morning was, “Lord have mercy on me, a sinner.  Help me to hear the words of truth in each criticism aimed at me.  Let my words of correction always be few and seasoned with grace.”

What’s your most common reaction to criticism?  How do you handle it?

Me and Joe and the President

February 6, 2012 /

Do you ever feel like you’ve accidentally put on Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak?

A few months ago a couple of people made an appointment with me.  I didn’t know what their agenda was.  When we met all they did was ask me questions about a painful experience.

And then they listened.

And asked more questions.  And listened some more.

They asked, “and then what happened?” and “how did you feel?” and “oh no!” and “what can we do?” like it really made a difference to them.

And here’s the thing.  Yes, what was asked and answered was important, but the most transformative thing for our relationship was that when I walked away I didn’t feel invisible anymore.  It felt like I mattered.   What I thought, what I felt, the pain I had experienced made a difference to them.  Have you had an experience like this?

A few years ago my husband and I had the opportunity to spend some time with former President Clinton in a couple different contexts (no he would not remember my name!).  Regardless of what you think about his politics or his morals, here’s a man who makes people feel like they matter.

We were wrapping up an interview with him when he saw an African American guy with a saxophone that was about 189 years old in a back hallway.  Clinton got so excited asking this guy about the brand of sax he played, and the type he used to play, and the music he liked.  He laughed and they swapped sax stories and he asked questions and really listened.

Clinton was so present it was hard for his handlers to tear him away.  One of the most powerful men in the world.  And he was saying to this man, “I may be the president of the United States, but you matter too.”

This is Joe.

He’s a guy with Down’s Syndrome who has a great smile and a can-do spirit.  He’s the guy who sweeps the stairs at exactly the same time every morning at my health club.  When I first asked his name he looked scared, like he had done something wrong.

When I thank him each day for his great work he always looks a little surprised.  Today I took another step and asked him, “Joe, how long have you worked here?  Do you like your job?”

I’ve noticed Joe.  I’ve tried to let him know he matters.  But how many others do I miss during the day who are longing to be noticed?  Feeling like they’re accidentally wearing and invisibility cloak?

What if Jesus hadn’t looked up to see Zaccheus?  What if He hadn’t taken time to talk to the woman who touched the hem of His robe?

When is a time when someone made you feel like you mattered?  Who are the people you tend to overlook?  Who would feel affirmed if you asked a question and listened?

That Person

February 3, 2012 /

I’ve thought a lot about this.

If I ever become an actress (Don’t laugh.  It could happen!), and I have a scene where I have to cry on cue, no sweat.  I’ve got this one covered.  Not because I’m particularly weepy (I’m really not at all, you know).  But because all I’ll have to do is think of “that person.”

You know.  “That person”.

I’m betting you have one too.  The person who won’t forgive you.

Or the one you thought loved you, but then betrayed, or rejected, or ignored, or walked away from you.  Or the one who pronounced a judgment that you’ve let define you.

Or the child you love who is making destructive choices, far from Jesus and you can’t control them or fix it and your heart is breaking.

And all it takes is for you to hear a certain song that brings back memories, or drive by a place where you used to feel welcome, or to accidentally see them.  Or not at all.

Broken, broken, broken.

If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.  Romans 12:18

You’ve tried the Elmer’s glue of apologies, and prayer, and grace to mend things but they’re still unmoved.  Unresponsive.  They still don’t like you.  Or they don’t like Jesus.  Or they don’t like either of you.

Here’s my advice.  To myself.  And you if you want to try it.  A spiritual practice if you will.

Give up.  Give them up.  Give yourself up.

Hand them over.

Let go.

And breathe.

Breathe in.  “Abba Father.”

Breathe out.  “Do what only You can do…”

Heal.  Restore.  Illumine.  Woo.  Correct.

Give up.  Over and over again.

Who’s “that person” for you?  Who do you need to hand over?

Who’s Dancing with You?

February 1, 2012 /

I really admire my husband.

He’s brilliant and wise and athletic and better than me at everything.

Except maybe one thing.

When we were dating, we never danced.

And when we got married we didn’t have dancing at our reception.

And when we went to our first wedding reception as a married couple he didn’t ask me to dance and I cried and was sure he didn’t really love me.

I wrote recently that some friends and I have wrangled our husbands into taking dance lessons, and I’ve finally discovered why this has not been part of our life together up til now.  I’m not gonna sugar coat it.  I’m no Ginger Rogers, but John is truly bad.   I don’t understand it.  How can someone who’s so coordinated in so many other areas be so…not…in this area?  Sometimes we just have to stop trying because we’re laughing so hard.

It’s one thing to have humility thrust upon you.  You make a mistake and have to apologize.  Like BP and their oil spill.  Or the captain of the cruise ship in Italy that ran aground.  Or Lindsay Lohan.  You’re given a job to do and things don’t go well.  You’re humbled.

But to choose to step into a situation where you know you’re weak, vulnerable, open to ridicule?  That takes love.

Doing this together with some of our closest friends has led me to another conclusion.

We all need friends who will dance with us.  People with whom we feel safe enough to say “yes, we’ll join you” even when it makes us vulnerable, or it’s risky, or has the potential to be downright embarrassing.

These are the people who will always laugh along with you and defend you and pray for you and forgive you even when toes are getting stepped on or you’ve made a wrong turn and bumped into them.

These are the people you can call at midnight when your world seems to be falling apart, or you have exciting news.  You help them carry their lamps and wine glasses to their new home and they help fix your leaky faucet.

They’re the ones who show up with chicken soup when you’re sick and light sparklers with you on holidays and stand at the graveside with you when your dad dies.

They write notes to your kids and you take theirs sailing.  You’ve run out of gas together on vacation and you’ve prayed.  Wow, have you prayed.  Together and separately, through laughter and tears.

Waltz.  Jitter bug.  Fox trot.

They know all your weaknesses and how you miss the beat and can’t twirl, but they still love you.

These are our people and we’re theirs.

More than anything they have our back.  And we have theirs.  No matter what.

Like I said before, these humiliating dance lessons were a choice, but recently John has been in another situation that has required public apologies and explanations and some people have been really mad, and others have been really mean, but then…there are those we dance with.

Recently, after a hard experience, a friend gave John a hug, and later he found that this note had been slipped into his pocket.

If you don’t have friends who will dance with you, find them.  They’re out there.  And if you do have friends who dance with you, maybe remind them you’ve got their back (or their toes).

Who’s dancing with you?

The Name of Your House

January 30, 2012 /

I’ve shared here before, about our daughters Katy and Maggie who are living together in Washington D.C…the Lucy and Ethel road trip we took to move Maggie out this September, and the story that’s been unfolding as they search for a faith community and pursue their dreams.

But here’s one thing that’s been bugging me.  They keep referring to the house where their apartment is as “The Haunted House.”

Now granted, theirs is the only occupied apartment in this 4-plex, but the reason they call it that has nothing to do with weird noises or needing Ghost busters.  It’s just that they live on a delightful street of well-kept row-houses and theirs, in comparison, looks like the stereotypical haunted house.

Theirs is the one to the left of the cute blue one with the flag out.  The one with the rusty wrought iron fence and the chipping paint you can’t see from here.

For a long time they couldn’t turn off their stove unless they unplugged it.  And the smoke detector was so sensitive that it screamed every time they made toast.

Green Gables.  Sunnybrook Farm.  Graceland.  Haunted House.

Haunted House?

That name may suit the outside appearance, but not the heart and spirit of the place.

Walls have echoed with lively conversation among friends about what church should be, laughter has spilled out the windows as folks have gathered around the girls’ tiny table for meals.  Hugs have been shared.  Plots have been hatched.  Love has abounded.

“Lord, I love the house where You live, the place where Your glory dwells.” Ps. 26:8

“And in Him you too are being built together to become a dwelling in which God lives by His spirit.” Ephesians 2:22

A dwelling where God lives… like the home I grew up in that was a warm hug – safe, loving, making everything ok.  My friend Sue’s beautiful home on a lake that’s a home of grace, peace…a refuge.  My friend Deborah’s home that exclaims “Welcome!” and overflows with the abundant hospitality of God.  My sister-in-law, Betsy’s house is one of joy and laughter.

Homes where God lives.

 What might your home be named?  

Chariots or “Likes”?

January 27, 2012 /

A friend of mine has 52,216 followers on Twitter.  Another has 36,333.

Last time I looked, I had 42 :).

That doesn’t bother me, but this on another friend’s blog…

Hmmm… Deep breath.

There are days when I’m humming along, feeling pretty good, and then, even accidentally sometimes, I’ll see a number, and I turn small and envious, and discontent.

I’m embarrassed to admit this, but am I the only one?  Which numbers affect your sense of well-being?    Number of dates you’ve had in the last year?  The number on your scale?  Number of days since your kids called?  Number of sales? Number of friends on Facebook?

So Monday I read, “Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.”  Ps. 20:7

I don’t know about you, but there aren’t many horses or chariots in my neighborhood, so it is not a temptation for me to trust that Charlton Heston is going to come careening down my street, whip in hand, vanquishing all my foes, cleaning up all my insecurities.

But there IS the temptation to trust in other things.

I’m wondering…if this verse were written today (no, I’m not changing scripture, just wondering) might it read:

“Some trust in ‘followers’,  ‘likes’, ‘hits’, ‘friends’ and full email boxes, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.”

But here’s a hard question.  What does that look like?  Trusting in God?  And not being derailed by either praise or the lack of it?

How do I resist having praise go straight to my head and criticism straight to my heart?

A couple of years ago I learned about a “Welcoming Prayer”, originated by Mary Mrozowski, that I have adapted and personalized for my own use most mornings.  Maybe part of trusting God is reminding ourselves and preparing for the battle we face each day.

Here’s my version of the Welcoming Prayer, prayed with hands open upwards:

Holy Spirit,  Welcome.

I let go of my need for affirmation and approval…

I let go of my need for recognition from…(This is the most important part for me. I insert here, specific people or places I’m tempted to look to for approval)

Holy Spirit, Welcome.

I let go of my need for power and control…

I let go of my need to change…(I insert here, specific people or situations I’m tempted to try to control)

Holy Spirit, Welcome.

Find rest my soul, in God alone.
For my hope comes from Him.
He alone is my rock and my salvation,
He is my fortress; I will not be shaken.
My salvation and my honor depend on God;
He is my mighty rock, my refuge. Psalm 62:5-7

Lord, help me to be a follower instead of seeking followers.  You are enough.

Which derails you most often? Praise or the lack of it?

Hiding in Plain Sight

January 25, 2012 /

Confession:  Some days are just “mess-up-not-good-enough-sin-over-and-over-again” days.

Of course, every day is that in reality, but some just feel more that way.

John has been out of town so I’ve been more (the operative word being “more”) careful about locking up.  The other night after resting secure, I was ready to leave for the day, opened the door, and discovered this:

Yep, not the brightest bulb.

I can laugh this off, but there are other times… There’s the sick feeling I get when I say something insensitive, or neglect to say something, or compare myself to someone else who HAS said, or done just the right Jesusy thing.  The times when pride or selfishness or bitterness seem to win the day and I’m so ashamed.

I think I want to hide, but I realize I really want something else. Continue reading

How to Be Where You Are

January 23, 2012 /

I love this photo I saw recently of a basket at the door to someone’s home.

But beyond that, what about the Obama White House, where cabinet members needed to tag and leave their phones before entering a meeting?

Be where you are.

I love these examples because they model what we all desire.  For people to be truly present and attentive.

But it’s also convicting, because I’m an ADD, multi-tasking friend and wife who isn’t always “present” to others.

Have you ever been talking to someone on the phone and can hear them typing on their computer while they talk to you?  Or people having coffee with you, texting (even under the table!) at the same time they’re talking to you?  Or you’re in a meeting and someone is surreptitiously checking FB?

Does it make you wonder if you’re that boring?  Or if they’re that important?

I keep thinking of Luke 10 where it says “Martha was distracted“, but “Mary chose what was better.”  Being present to Jesus.  Is technology distracting me from my relationship with Jesus, others, and even myself?

Just this morning as I was reading scripture, and praying, I stopped to text someone I thought of.  Could it have waited?  Absolutely.  I wonder…when we’re not fully present are we really saying to the other (in this case, Jesus)…

  • Someone or something else is more important than you.
  • I am more important than you.
  • Posting, tweeting, texting, being in demand defines my value.

Here’s something that really impacted me this week.  I’m not an “important” person (yeah, yeah, I know I’m important to God, but I mean in a worldly sense).  I’m not famous, but somehow I’ve been privileged to spend time with many people who are.  Leaders who are having a huge impact in the world.  They are smart, articulate, anointed, sought after, and extremely busy.

This past week I was with one of the most gifted, influential teachers of our day, and the thing that struck me the most powerfully was that I never once saw him check his iphone while he was with us.

He wasn’t receiving texts during dinner.

He didn’t interrupt conversations to answer a call.

His eyes didn’t stray around, searching for more “important” people other than who he was talking to.

And he didn’t hurry through the room.  He was truly present to the people he was with.

That in itself is a big deal.  But the question I thought of beyond that was, what does this say about his ability to be present to Jesus?  To not allow the demands, interruptions, requests, distract him from the discipline of being truly with Jesus?  I wonder if these two things are related.

How might the practice of being present to Jesus affect our ability to be present to each other?  And vice versa.  Does practicing being present in one relationship carry over into another?

How can we “Hang up and arrive.” as Jon Acuff says?

Are there times we leave our phone at home?  Days we turn it off?

How much does technology affect your ability to be present to Jesus and others?

Wile E. Coyote and Fixing January, part 2

January 20, 2012 /

Last Friday I wrote about Wile E. Coyote and Fixing January .  January and I still have challenging relationship, but I’ve been trying to affirm her where I can.  You know, cuz that’s what Jesus would do.   But our counselor says we’ve got a long way to go.  I’ve been working at the practice of being thankful, but I’ve also had some other thoughts (And so have you!  Check out the good ideas in the comments on the original post).

I’ve been thinking about one of my favorite axioms from Mark Batterson.

Change of pace + Change of place = Change of perspective

True that.

Not many of us are able to apply this by taking a vacation on a beach in Mexico, but I’ve been trying to be creative by shaking things up a bit.

Here are some of the things I’m trying.

1.  New Experiences.  John and I got a groupon and have been taking dance lessons with some friends of ours.  Hysterical.  Not only have we laughed our heads off, I’ve been reminded how much I like control, and have been comforted by the fact that this may be the one thing I can do that John can’t.  Well, actually he just can’t do it worse than I can’t do it.  It’s humbling and healthy for both of us to laugh at ourselves.

2.  New Relationships.  Ok, this one is more for me than John cuz he’s an introvert and doesn’t really like people, but we each have met a ton of young couples at our church this fall.  I met some.  He met others.  None of them really knew each other.  We wanted to help them connect and get to know them better so last weekend we invited them to a “Come to Cook” dinner where everyone pitched in on teams to pull the meal together.  People are always more comfortable when they have a job to do so it was so much fun!

3.  New Practices.  This fall I got involved in helping facilitate the Willow Creek Association online courses called LIFT  (Leadership Intensives for Transformation).  I can’t recommend these highly enough.  If you want huge value for your investment, check these out.  They are mostly 7 week courses around topics of leadership and spiritual formation.  You receive an assignment each Monday that may include watching a video, doing a self-assessment, reading an article, and interacting online around several application/discussion questions.  The total time investment each week is only 2 hours and you can fit it in whenever it’s convenient for you!  Most classes also include a couple of virtual classroom experiences when everyone is online at the same time, interacting around a video teaching.  I’ll be facilitating the Leading for Results class that was created, and is taught by Henry Cloud around his book, Integrity.  It starts February 6th and it’s for EVERYONE, not just ministry leaders.  I did it for the first time this fall and thought the content was the most practical and relevant I’d seen.  I’d love to have you join in!

What about YOU?  What are the life-giving new experiences, relationships, or practices you’ve tried or want to try?  Share with us!

« Older posts Newer posts »

© 2026 Laura Crosby

Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑