They Didn’t Know

“But Sunday’s Comin'” I don’t know where I first heard those words in conjunction with Easter weekend. A book maybe, a sermon maybe…not sure…but I remember it was meant to give hope… Good Friday is gone, Saturday is here but Resurrection Sunday is coming. Jesus is raised from the dead. Do not worry…Sunday’s comin’. But I woke up at 5am this morning thinking about that first Easter weekend…you know….the one where it all actually happened. And I was thinking about Saturday. Good Friday happened but the disciples didn’t know it was good. All they knew was that the man they had followed for three years and seen do amazing, miraculous, supernatural things…was now in fact dead. The priests in the temple knew the curtain was torn…in two…from top to bottom. The Holy of Holies…the place where God lived on Earth… was now exposed for all to enter and see. How in the world were hey supposed to fix or even wrap their minds around that? The Roman soldier was probably laying in bed after a sleepless night….heart torn by all he had seen the day before. He saw it all go down and knew “Surely this man was the Son of God” Mark 15:39. Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus had already prepared Jesus’s body and buried it.

And now it’s Saturday…..The disciples were hiding. Wouldn’t you? They had put all their faith in a man that was now dead. A man that had thoroughly hacked off the High Priest and had been crucified by a brutal but spineless Roman government. A man who the masses had one week earlier praised and thrown their cloaks down in front of….and then yesterday cried out in anger for his blood and chose a mass murdered to be released over Him…an innocent man. Think they were scared? I sure would have been! Think they were worried all these people were coming for them next? Oh yeah…I totally would have been with them! Think they were wondering what in the world they were going to do now? They couldn’t go back to their old life…they had seen too much that had totally changed them. I bet there was crying. I bet tempers were short and there was arguing. But I also bet they were thinking about everything they had seen and heard. They were thinking about what Jesus taught them. They were thinking about the fact that He had told them that He would be killed and then come back to life three days later. Could it be? Today is day two…He said in three days…could it really be? Dare they hope? Dare they believe? Dare they think that one again the impossible…the miraculous…the supernatural could happen again? Talk about butterflies in your tummy. Talk about having to put your patience pants on and have to wait. Talk about frustration and wonder….and faith!

We have the amazing advantage of living in a day and age where we know the story. We know the end. We’ve read it a hundred times. But we didn’t see it with our own eyes and sadly because of that many…today… have chosen to not believe…to not have faith. But I dare you…read it again. Read the story and imagine that you are there. Read it and ponder all the emotion. Read it and try to think of the sounds, sights and smells. Read it and see if you can at all relate to that rag tag band of 11 men…hiding. They ain’t being bold on Saturday. They don’t know the whole story. They don’t know that Sunday’s comin’. They just don’t know.

Don’t worry disciples…it totally happens! Jesus does the impossible! He beats death and Hell and then comes back to Earth for all to see. Don’t worry! Today you are hiding, afraid, alone, scare,, hurting, unsure of what you believe, unsure of what your family will think, unsure of what the world with think. BUT…I know this…Sunday is coming! Hold on…Have faith!

Rehab and Perfection Freedom

Hello my name is Kristin and I’m a Recovering Perfectionist. 

Mind you…I don’t think necessarily that I am a complete anal retentive, perfectionist by nature.  Yes, I am first born and totally have first born characteristics which can include perfectionism.  However I am also okay with a minor to medium mess.  I have piles…paper piles, book piles, junk piles, piles, piles, piles.  BUT I do NOT want you to mess with my piles…you might mess them up.  I am totally my father’s daughter :-).  As a kid I was a total slob.  Stories of my room have been assigned to Lasher family legend and lore.  Case in point, Mom once found a moldy bologna and butter sandwich under my bed.  EWWWWW!!!!  Yes, it is true that any self respecting person would refuse to eat bologna and butter but I don’t know about the hiding it under the bed part…that’s just nasty.  Ok, ok…I admit I had an aneurysm when Kayla first mixed the play dough colors…but through intense rehab I have learned to declinch and go with the flow.  I am a natural leader and am created somewhat anal retentive BUT I do believe with my whole heart that I have become more of a perfectionist due to societal demands of perfection.  As a matter of fact I do believe that many people, particularly women (I can’t say all but I would wager it’s pretty darned close) feel the pull from outside sources towards perfectionism.

Oh friend…. you know exactly what I am talking about.  Ever had someone call to say they are stopping by the house in 10 minutes to drop something off for you and you proceed to spend the next 10 minutes doing the flight of the butterflies cleaning dance.  You shove crap into closets, dishes into the dishwasher, toys under beds…you exhaust yourself to try to make a good impression.  We want people to believe that yes, in fact our houses are perfectly clean all the time because we are superhuman and can do it all.  Then we convince ourselves that the person dropping by doesn’t notice that we greet them at the door sweating like a pig, red faced and panting because we just killed ourselves doing more physical activity in 10 minutes than in the past month. There are totally times I have wished I could be Mrs. Weasley from Harry Potter and could use magic to cook and clean!!!  Seriously… how awesome would that be!!!

You cannot relate?  OK, how about these… Refuse to go to the store or up to the school or anywhere without make up.  Kids can’t leave the house unless their clothes match. Putting on your “church face” for Sunday mornings 10 seconds after screaming like a lunatic in the car.  How about working more on your kids school project than you kid does so it looks perfect.  Just to name a few…and there are more…oh…so…ridiculously many more!

There is something, somewhere that has pushed us to believe that we have to look perfect, act perfect, have perfect kids who do perfect things.  We need to have the perfect house and the perfect friends and the perfect marriage.  We need to be perfect people who make perfect meals and say perfect things and have perfect bodies and act perfectly.  That is a whole mess of perfect!!!!  But campers…it’s all based on a lie.  That something, somewhere that pushed us…it’s a big, fat, total, hairy lie.  Here’s the lie… Your worth comes from your ability to be or appear perfect.  We believe that if we aren’t perfect or at least appear so then we are not worth much or anything at all.  And here’s what I know…the drive to perfection leads to worry.  We worry about what people think and what others are doing and what others have that we don’t have.  We worry about our kids not getting all A’s or not being popular.  We worry about the “right” church, the “right” schools, the “right” neighborhood, the “right” clothes.  Yes, there are so many other reasons we worry but the drive to perfection is a huge cause.   When it comes down to it…we worry because we want to be seen as and considered worthy.

” Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?”  Luke 12: 25

Jesus isn’t talking about worry over perfection here…He’s talking about basic human needs…food, clothes, shelter…and worth. 

“Consider the ravens: They do now sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them.  And how much more valuable you are than birds” Luke 12:24

You know…I’ve never met a bird that seemed too worried about life.  I doubt Joe the Raven flies home to his nest and tells the Mrs. “Honey…I am SO stressed!”  And according to my Bible, God takes care of them and we are MUCH MORE VALUABLE than them.  We have worth.  We are made in His image and we are worthy because of it!

This world, this society we live in has fed us this lie… that we have to be perfect in certain ways.  Oh and we spend so so so much time and energy trying to mask and cover up our imperfections and then we worry if we did a good enough job to fool folk into believing we are perfect.  To fool folk into believing we are worthy.

WHAT IF we stopped believing the lie?  WHAT IF we didn’t apologize when someone walked into our house.  What if we said “Welcome to our crazy home.  I have birthed 3 hyperactive, destructive terrorists who obliterate everything they touch and I just don’t have the energy to keep everything clean all the time.  In all honesty…this is the cleanest my house has been in 3 months.  Just kick stuff out of the way, come on in and have a cup of coffee.”  I’m not saying live in like “Hoarders Gone Wild”.  Yes, there is a difference between clutter and filthy McNasty….but I am saying, our worth is not determined from how clean or decluttered out house appears.

WHAT IF we owned our wrinkles, gray hair, muffin tops, stretch marks and saggy boobs.  I’m not saying don’t take care of yourself.  I am all for working out and staying in shape.  I am all for looking nice and taken care of.  I LOVE getting dressed up for date night with the big, bald, good lookin’ man.  I am saying…it happens to all of us.  What if we stopped pretending that our bodies don’t change when we make babies and stop pretending that we don’t age.  I am a firm believer in inner beauty days.  Yes, most are preceded by scary demon mornings…but I am okay with that.  If I get on deodorant and get my teeth brushed before going up to volunteer at the boy’s elementary school I consider my morning a success.  What if we owned up to the fact that our bra size is a “36 long” and we regularly need bottle hair therapy?  What if we wore our stretch marks with pride…like the battle scars they really are?  What if we knew our worth was not based on looking like some fake, air brushed picture in a magazine?

WHAT IF we allowed our kids to not be perfect?  What if we let them bring in the hot mess science fair project? You know…the one that it is OBVIOUS that the kid did it all themselves.  And what if when they look sad because another kid’s project looks perfect (because it is OBVIOUS that Mom and Dad did it) we can build our kids up and tell them how proud we are because THEY did their project and it is perfect because they busted their buns and took responsibility and did it!  What if we let them dress themselves in the most hideously clashing, make momma’s eyes roll outfit.  Oh the outfits that have come out of this house!!!!  The fashion police have given us our own surveillance satellite based off of past hideous wardrobe choices. YES, a certain blonde little lady wore a purple and pink tie-dye long sleeved shirt under a maroon dress with non-matching colored tights and brown shoes.  YES, Marsh monkey brothers can’t pick matching clothes to save their lives.  YES, I have taken a myriad of superhero costume clad children to the store with me (and half of those costumes had holes in them due to that hyperactive, destructive terrorist thing they have going on).  YES, I have (unknowingly) taken a free-balling 4 year old to Easter service and refused to turn around to go home to don a pair of underoos.

WHAT IF we were honest with each other?  What if we could talk openly and honestly about life and work and kids and fears and faith and everything else and not have to worry about holding up that image of perfection. 

WHAT IF we knew our worth?  What if we believed…honestly, truly, whole heartedly believed that we are worth something because we were created as children of God?

Remember…the lie of perfection is just that…a LIE!  Perfection only exists in Jesus.  I ain’t perfect, you ain’t perfect…ain’t one of us who are God’s kids that are perfect.  So let’s start here….. Let’s start with cutting ourselves some slack.  I promise to not be perfect 😉 and you promise to not judge me for not being perfect.  You promise to not be perfect and I promise to not judge you for not being perfect. 

Hi my name is Kristin and I’m a recovering perfectionist.  I am a hot mess and so is my house but I know I’m worth the world…because God said so.

Welcome to perfection therapy friends!

A Marshmallow Fluff Covered Gift

After 5 years in the beautiful state of Colorado I still apparently need to be reminded of what Colorado brings to the table….snow storms in April. I sit here on the second week of spring break with the boys (Kayla only got one week – but she gets out of school a whole week before the boys…teenage happy dance) and I am watching the monkey brothers build a fort in the play room (this room also masquerades as the front room of our house…no false visions of life in the Marsh house here. When you walk into the front door you walk right smack dab into the playroom which I must say totally accurately describes life in the Marsh Big Top – fun and messy). But I digress…I sit here watching them work together to build a fort and I look past to our front windows which reveal a winter wonderland outside. I see our HUGE, beautiful tree out front and it looks like it’s covered in marshmallow fluff. It looks like our house is sitting in the middle of a snow globe. The roads are slushy and slick and it make me not want to leave the house….and here’s the gift…I don’t have to! Yes, I had things to do and places to go today…but I don’t have to! I actually got up and drove Kayla to the bus stop so she didn’t have to walk in the snow storm, got home, got all ready to go where I was going to go this morning, got half way down the stairs and stopped…I had a revelation…Today is not a snowy, messy screw up of a day…today is a gift…what am I going to do with it? So I decided to take myself back upstairs and get on my sweatpants and climb back into bed and snuggle with my boys. I have the gift of being a stay at home momma. I have the gift of a husband who lives his life according to what God has called him to do and he provides for our family so I can provide our family with an abundance of things other than money. I have the gift of living in a state where it snows one day in April and then the next day is beautiful outside. Let’s hear it for ADD weather ;-). I have the gift of having the freedom to say everything else can wait because today is a snowy, slushy, beautiful gift and I am going to stay home and make forts, drink hot chocolate with my boys and watch Frozen (again) because it just feels right for today. I have the gift that I can ignore the fact that my house is an unholy mess and instead of cleaning I can decide take my sons into the kitchen and we can make chocolate chip cookies….just because. I have the gift of having a nature made work out waiting for me once the snow stops…fun play time in the snow for the boys and upper body, snow shoveling work out for me. I’m not saying there won’t be moments in our house. The Marsh Big Top being the Marsh Big Top we’ve already had some. I’ve already had to send each boy back to his room to start his day over and to wake up with a happy heart and a good attitude instead of being an ill tempered sea bass. I am sure I will break up a few wrestling matches and fights. (Brock decked his brother the other day and causes a full on gusher of a bloody nose). I am sure there will be moments of whining. But here’s the gift…I get to be home with these rascals…to have fun AND to train them up. Tomorrow life will go back to spring time “normal”. No snow…beautiful weather…things to do and places to go…but today is a winter wonderland, marshmallow fluff covered gift. Gotta run….I’ve got cookies to make and snuggle time to get to.