Kay Daigle's blog

I am so impressed with the twenty and thirty-something followers of Jesus on mission to help the world alleviate poverty, injustice, and hunger. Rarely does my week pass without hearing such a report on television, in church, or online. I applaud the courage and faith that it takes to follow God’s call and give up home, career, and material goods to accomplish those dreams.
 
But what about the rest of us who are ordinary people? Do we read about God’s great work and begin to see ourselves as lesser than, incompetent, or lacking faith? Do we feel guilty for being average—going to a job, loving our families, caring for our neighbors, and volunteering in church and community?

As a non-Catholic follower of Christ, I am intrigued by Pope Francis. He seems to have little interest in the trappings of power and wealth that have characterized his position for centuries.  A Pope carrying his own suitcase seems out of place. The Vicar of Rome beginning his tenure by asking for prayer for himself is abnormal. The leader of the Catholic Church wearing simple garments looks out of place. He reminds me more of Mother Theresa than any of the previous Popes I have observed. I wonder how a man who lives simply and humbly will change the character of the papacy, not only during his time as Pope but for all who follow him.
 
But apart from any precedence he may set for the Catholic Church, this Pope provides an example that should make the rest of us pause and evaluate ourselves and our own churches.

Those of us involved in the Christian culture would likely rank God as a high priority; yet, is that really the case or do we fool ourselves? Several weeks ago I observed a scene which started my thinking about it.

Even in the best of earthly relationships or the closest marriage, we don’t always feel loved. For many people Valentine’s Day is a difficult reminder of what we don’t have, whether we are single or married. Because we live in a broken world, our expectations are often unrealized and our dreams of love are far from reality.

Each of us deals with days of darkness, sorrow, and pain. They are as much a part of life as times of laughter and sunshine. During such moments I sometimes struggle to believe that God loves me and hears my cries of pain. When you can’t clearly see God’s purposes, you too, may find it difficult to believe in his love.

At this hurried time of year we rush here and there with our shopping lists, food preparations, and Christmas pageants or concerts. When I had children at home, I set aside their school time for my hunting trips to the mall. When they were home, I had food to prepare for neighbors and friends, gifts to wrap, and places to be.
 
As I look back, those days felt frantic and stressful rather than filled with the peace of Christ. I missed the present of the presence of God, and I failed to give the gift of my presence to those around me. Can you relate?  How do we overcome the busyness and find the present of presence?

In my small group study this past week, the teacher introduced the phrase "the gift of consequences." I love that description because I have come to trust over the years that everything God gives us, including the consequences of our actions, is good even when it doesn't feel like it. How can the consequences of a bad choice be a gift?

What is your greatest struggle as a woman? Would you name envy, anger, lust, selfishness, dishonesty, greed, or pride—things that God names as sins? Do you even think much about such attitudes? Or do you rank organization and efficiency as more important qualities to have? Does God put productivity as a top ten character trait?

“What is your highest priority in life?” How would you answer that question? What do most women say? A recent survey of Christian women by George Barna found that 53% ranked family first, while only 16% prioritized their faith. The total number of women who responded with health, career, and comfortable lifestyle is larger than the group that chose faith.

This blog post originally appeared on Kay's blog Beyond on 2/21/2011.

Last night our television was on, but I wasn’t really paying attention to it. I did note my husband flipping through a report featuring an aging television star who has clearly gone through a number of facelifts—common among celebrities and the wealthy. Beauty is a very popular idol.

I have to admit that I hate looking in the mirror. Yet I know the beauty culture is the antithesis of God’s view of me. I would never have surgery simply to improve my appearance, but I still wish I could look better! The pull of beauty is so pervasive that it’s almost impossible for any of us to feel good about ourselves. I have to watch my thoughts to be sure I am not falling prey to the idol.

Wouldn’t life be easier if we could just fix it? What if we could push a button and bring immediate change? When I watch people dear to me whose lives could be helped with more faith or Christian maturity, I wish I could insert them into a machine which would spit them out all cleaned up, somewhat like a washer. It might have numerous cycle choices, depending upon what needs to change—things such as a bad attitude, foolish decision-making, selfishness, laziness, unforgiveness, and leaving God out of life decisions. 

Since God hasn’t given us such a machine and doesn’t choose to zap people into maturity himself, how are we supposed to help those whom we love find wisdom and spiritual growth? 

Memories of my childhood tell me that I constantly bore a wound on my body from a fall, burn, bite, or cut, primarily because of my clumsiness. However, the worse sores I recall seeing were on my sister who suffered a series of boils from a staph infection. No one knows where she got it or remembers exactly how long it lasted, but I recollect a number of weekly doctor visits for antibiotic injections.

Emotional wounds require the same treatment as physical ones. Failure to deal with the underlying problem means that real healing doesn’t occur. I know all about ignoring issues instead of facing them, having done this myself far too often.

Yesterday I enjoyed a delicious lunch with a wonderful group of godly women. Although only a few of them are my close friends, I admire them all and look forward to our infrequent lunches because the conversation always refreshes me spiritually. In contrast, I remember another meal years ago with a friend and her friends where the discussion focused on the material and the physical. When I left, I was struck with the thought that much time with them would likely leave me feeling bad about my looks, my clothing, or my finances—or maybe all three. 

My choice of companions has made a huge difference in the person I am today. “As iron sharpens iron, so a person sharpens his friend” (Prov. 27:17). Do your friends sharpen or dull you to the things of God?

I love surprises, don’t you? Unexpected gifts, sweet notes of encouragement out of the blue, or small thoughtful acts. Such things represent the care, love, and grace of friends and relatives. God delights in surprising us sometimes, often out of the blue in totally unexpected ways. Such surprises can’t be explained by random chance; only the providential love of God supplies an answer. Recently God has been quite busy surprising me. 

Spring has sprung here in Texas; trees are budding and bulbs are blooming. It’s the perfect weather to get outdoors and enjoy the beauty of God’s creation. I would love to walk through a park smelling the roses, listening to the birds, and sensing God’s presence. How renewing that would be! But I am bound to my busyness, my tasks, and my responsibilities. I have a big list of what must be done today, and it includes only the things that God has given me to do involving ministry, family, and home. Sound familiar?

How do we stop and smell the roses when our schedules and responsibilities force us to move at light speed? What "roses" are right in front of us waiting to be smelled, ready to renew our souls?

I have nightmares of Martha Stewart—not nightmares that come in the dark but those that chase me in broad daylight when I prepare for guests. Do you also feel intimidated by Martha, chefs on the Food Network, and decorators on HGTV? I don’t have their gifts, creativity, or training. Clearly, God didn’t design me to be a chef or a decorator.

So, can I just wait for others to invite me to their homes?

On Sunday my husband and I celebrated forty years of marriage. Although the years have brought ups and downs, even serious problems along the way, God kept us together by his grace. Despite my desire to leave more than once, I didn’t.

Through the years God taught me some valuable lessons from my own experiences and my observations of other marriages. Because of its foundational nature, I don’t list personal spiritual growth and dependence upon God for grace to give your spouse, but it is the key to implementing the five lessons below.

I appreciate having beautifully decorated Christmas presents. However, I remember a year when my son wrapped his gifts to us in brown package paper, sealed them with duct tape, and wrote our names in marker on the outside. What was inside was great, but I didn’t want him to put the wrapped presents under the tree. (He so enjoyed upsetting traditions and his mom!)

Two thousand years ago God gave the gift of Jesus, but he too came wrapped in brown paper. The Jews expected him to come as their King dressed in royal robes, restoring the Jewish kingdom. Instead, they received a baby born in a shelter for animals, a poor itinerant preacher who died at the hands of the Roman oppressors. They missed the gift, not looking beyond its plain packaging.

Have you watched your closets and drawers grow more disorganized and messy despite your best intentions? I have. I purchase something and add it to what is already there; as a result, I multiply my stuff without adding needed storage space and create a mess that makes it difficult to find anything. Let’s call it the multiplication principle. I have found that it applies to life and ministry just as it does my closets.

Generally, I don’t want to know how the plot ends. I like to watch the movie, read the book, or see the game and discover the outcome for myself. However, that changes when the conclusion really matters. It’s one thing to enjoy a story as it goes along and quite another to live through the unknown when the outcome seriously makes a difference.

Being a fan of the Texas Rangers, I have been watching the baseball playoffs. On Monday I realized that I didn’t like the television commentators, so I muted the sound and turned on the radio. It was quickly apparent that the radio was ahead of the video feed. I heard what was happening before I could see it. Somehow, that made it less stressful. When the bases were loaded in the bottom of the ninth and we didn’t score, I wasn’t too upset because I already knew what would happen before I saw it. When the bases were loaded again in the eleventh, what I heard told me that we would win with a home run. Great!

The same principle is true of hard circumstances. It’s the time of not-knowing, the period between the initiation and the outcome that is so difficult. Maybe that’s why God gives us advance notice of endings. Does he really do that?

The news reports of the power outages in the eastern part of the U.S. in the wake of Hurricane Irene last week include a lot of whining. Knowing that reporters tend to go for the dramatic, it is likely that such people are in the minority, but the stories bother me. We have many relatives and friends in southeast Texas who have dealt with longer outages from previous hurricanes who refrained from whining, realizing that repair takes time when damage is widespread. So far reports that I have seen from this week’s Texas wildfires focus on people thankful for their lives, even while they mourn the loss of everything they own. 

Aren’t we whining when we focus on what is hard in our lives rather than God’s gracious provision? That response reveals an attitude of entitlement: “I deserve to have ____ (health, perfect children, good things, no struggles, etc.).” Shouldn’t we be thankful for what we do have rather than gripe about what we don’t?  Do I make that choice when faced with trials or even a difficult day? Do you?

Economic fears have gripped the world. While the U.S. attempts to recover from recession and high unemployment, its credit rating has also dropped. The global markets are fluctuating daily, and many investors are panicking out of fear of losing the money they have set aside in stocks and bonds. 

How should a follower of Christ react to huge worldwide economic problems?

My childhood friend Nancy was forbidden to participate in a number of activities on Sunday because her parents felt that Sunday was the Christian Sabbath, purposed for focusing on God. Recently, I read a similar comment about not participating in anything on Sunday that isn't centered on Christ, including family activities. I love the zeal and heartfelt desire to please God that these restrictions represent, but I wonder--isn’t there something in this perspective that misses God’s heart for people?

On the other hand, in fleeing from legalism have the rest of us lost the benefits of the sabbath commands? Do we miss any focus on Christ in the midst of family fun? Has the pendulum swung too far when we determine that sabbath is Law, without any merit to Christ-followers? Is there something positive in its practice that many of us are missing?

I would answer all the above questions with “yes.” If so, what does sabbath look like when it’s not a legal obligation but a blessing?

Do you find yourself in a tough place right now? Perhaps you are dealing with loss, transition, disappointment, uncertainty, or any number of challenges. I relate, being stuck in such a wilderness for some time now.

The wilderness journey of Israel wasn’t a season of spiritual dryness, as some of us might expect of the wilderness. Instead, it was a period of hardship and challenge arising from their circumstances. Israel was literally in a tough place, but God was near.

What incredible blessings they experienced because of the difficulties! Think about them with me.

My son ran into a friend recently and asked him about married life. The friend answered that it’s great if you don’t mind being told what to do all the time.

That news made me sad, particularly because I identify with this guy’s wife, having spent my early married years wanting my husband to change. Such discontent doesn’t lead to marital oneness, peace, or happiness, and focusing on a spouse’s deficiencies usually spills over into nagging.

Not only are badgering wives ridiculed by comedians, the Bible is pretty hard on them. “A continual dripping on a rainy day and a contentious wife are alike” (Prov. 27:15). Other translations use words like nagging or quarrelsome, but the problem grows out of her heart issue—dissatisfaction with her husband.

So how do we get our husbands to change without nagging?

Waiting on God can be difficult in this era of microwaves and instant messaging. Sometimes it seems like I am in one long line, awaiting my turn for God’s attention. I realize this is not how God works, but it is the way I often feel. I watch others get what they ask for; I see God do great things in their lives; but I continue to wait for his hand to move in numerous situations. When God’s silence lingers, I want to say, “Are you even listening to me?”