Posts filed under 'purpose'
Prayer Siesta
Why is it so hard to pray?
There are so many things weighing heavily on my heart this week, things I know need prayer. Sick friends, unbelieving family members, marriages — upcoming ones, sustaining ones, breaking ones. (Is anyone else out there grief-stricken over Jon & Kate? I could barely stomach the season premiere this week.) Our nation needs prayer: our politicians, our diplomats, our soldiers, our culture. As the school year comes to a close I want to pray for our kids, our teachers, our summers. So many things! And yet I find it extremely difficult to pray longer than two consecutive sentences.
Maybe praying isn’t the difficult part. Maybe my trouble is the stopping part.
Photo courtesy dreamstime.com
I’ve written about the ineffectiveness of multi-tasking before. It makes us forgetful (because we’re trying to remember too many things at once), distracted (because we’re trying to do too much at once), and ugly in our people skills (because we’re more focused on productivity than relationships). I ascribe to all these things! I know they’re true. I preach them. Yet I have difficulty stopping.
I pray while in the shower, claiming it’s the only place I’m uninterrupted by family needs, but even then I interrupt myself with to-do lists, grocery lists and random thoughts about blogging. I try to blog, but get distracted by thoughts about writing, gardening and what I should wear to swim lessons later this morning. I try to play with my kids but bring my Kindle in case they get bored with me or I get bored with Duck, Duck, Goose and the repetitive swing-pushing. While making dinner, I clean the kitchen, run another load of laundry, catch up with friends on the phone and help the kids finish a puzzle. No wonder my meals are never perfect and my prayer life is dehydrated!
The other day Kellie posted a rest challenge. She calls it S.IESTA!: Stop. Intentionally Establishing Stillness Takes Action. Her purpose is to, over the summer, routinely rest for a set period of time each day, to stop whatever she and her kids are doing and take a break. Now, I don’t have trouble resting. I read all. the. time. I watch tv with my hunky spouse every night, and I play with the kids every afternoon. Rest comes easily to me. Prayer, however, requires a stop. I want to be more intentional with my prayer life. Yes, I pray regularly now, but how much better could it be if I were more purposeful? How much more of what God is doing could I witness if I scheduled time to just talk with Him each day? I don’t mean reading His Word. Anything that involves reading I do with a voracious appetite. But praying. Can I stop — really STOP — each day to pray?
What about you? What can you be more intentional about this summer?
5 comments May 28, 2009
Wanna join my team?
Once again I woke up early to write, but promptly allowed myself to get distracted by other things. Stupid thing. Time-wasting things. I don’t have time to waste! In precisely four minutes little feet will sound their pitter-patter down the steps and this fantasy of being a writer will fade like the morning fog. My real life will take over. I won’t be Tanya Dennis, respected author and theological thinker. Nope. I’ll be Mama, slave to children, laundry and home.
So, what did I accomplish this morning? Let’s see … I went to the bathroom. I wrote and rewrote one sentence of a query several times. I checked my email, both accounts. I changed my facebook status and got sucked into that abyss of the cyberworld. Now, thirty-seven precious minutes later, I can hardly remember the brilliance of this query? What was it about? What were those perfect sentence I drafted while lying awake in bed? Those pearls strung beautifully in line are now scattered across the floor of my mind.
Remind me: why do I keep the internet on my computer?
Better yet: why am I so utterly undisciplined? So easily distracted?
I’m revisiting a book I started last year: Time to Write. Humor me while I tell you a snowball story.
Within the past three months I’ve been struck (hard) by the rate at which children grow. I’m always known and often repeated the mantra of “the days are long, but the years are short.” I’ve worked diligently to never wish away my days. I’ve been very intentional about relishing every moment I have with my children, yet somehow I feel like I’m not witnessing enough. I’m not involved enough. I’m not teaching enough. I’m not experiencing this moment of my life (yes, five years is just a moment) with them to its full extent. This revelation has been painfully tangible to me recently as I watched my daughter turn five, as I realized in just seven short months both our kids will be in school, and my life will be vastly different than it is now.
Upon this realization, I decided to put my writing on hold. Other than my blog I haven’t done anything. I haven’t offered any submissions. I haven’t written any query letters, chapters, outlines or ideas. I haven’t even done any editing! Nothing. This sounds like a wonderful, sacrificial commitment. I’m putting my kids and my family first – right? Right. Except that it’s not working. None of my projects or project ideas have agreed to stay on the shelf. They bombard me with better sentence structure, a clearer illustrative story, a more attention-grabbing first line or a marketing idea.
When I first started writing, I met several authors who claimed “writing is like breathing; you just can’t stop.” Since I reluctantly (kicking and screaming) followed this call, I didn’t understand what they meant. Being a former artist, I understood the use-it-or-lose-it truth, but not the compulsive addiction part. Now I get it. I’m trying to stop! I’m trying to sacrifice all for my family, but I’m finding that sacrificing all simply creates a zombie. I’m going through the motions with my mind a thousand miles (or a thousand words) away.
So. I desperately want to focus on my family and I don’t want to be a zombie, so I think I need to schedule some regular writing time in order to get it out of my system so I can be mentally present during what should be quality time. (How’s that for a run-on sentence?) Enter Time to Write. It (at least the parts I’ve read)suggests just this: scheduling writing time into your life instead of waiting for your life to just give you uninterrupted, limitless reign with just you and your laptop. But, again, what good is scheduled time if I spend it all skipping through facebook or other flower-filled meadows of the internet?
I need discipline and, after 32 years of living with me, I know I can’t do it alone. I don’t want to call this a thorn in my side, but it is definitely a life-long struggle. I want to be disciplined and organized, but it just does not come naturally to me. I want to be efficient and productive with my time, but my easy-going, hippy-loving brain would rather just do what I feel the moment needs to be fulfilled. I want the respect of an adult, but I don’t want to grow up to get it. I’m still waiting for my life to begin. But I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of floating. I want to be intentional, purposeful, focused … but without losing my spontaneity or appreciation for moments that can’t be recaptured.
What is the point of this post? Pray for me. This season for me is one of physical rest but internal struggle. We don’t have a ton of activity going on in our lives, but I’m fighting mental battles, spiritual struggles, past demons I thought were buried. I would love to have some prayer warriors on my side.
If you’re willing, please comment or email me with your commitment to pray regularly — once a week, once a month, once a day, whatever! I’ll take it! Pray for my family for spiritual growth, for protection, for vision and direction. Pray for my writing that I would be disciplined and wise with my time and that God would use me to accomplish His will. I have no idea where this will lead. Maybe he has books in my future or maybe just articles. Maybe just this blog or local studies. I don’t know, but I don’t want to miss the boat. He is working and I want to be ready when He needs me. I want to be where He is doing what He wants me to do. So what do you think? Can you join a prayer team?
7 comments March 15, 2009
The Work Assigned Me
A stomach bug has been making its rounds through the area. It visited our house on Thursday. And Friday. And Saturday and Sunday. Today, I think (but don’t want to proclaim this too loudly), it’s through. Today we’re dealing with the residual weariness of having a sick house. Because of this, I’m not going to write much today. Rather I’ll just share a verse with you.
“My life is worth nothing to me unless I use it for finishing the work assigned me by the Lord Jesus — the work of telling others the Good news about the wonderful grace of God.”
Acts 20:24 (NLT)
I don’t read the New Living Translation much. In fact, I usually stick to my New American Standard Bible. It’s what we used in college and it’s what I’m used to. But sometimes a different translation, an alternate word choice, can magnify a verse with significance. Lynn Mosher posted this verse in this version on twitter a couple weeks ago. It struck me. I’ve read it a hundred times or more and yet this time it called out to me in a different way. I grabbed one of my notecards (you know those 3 x 5″ things designed for making speeches), wrote it out and taped it my kitchen cabinet. It’s been there ever since. When I’m on the phone or waiting for the next step of meal prep, I pull it down and retrace every word.
What is the work the Lord Jesus has assigned you? Are you using your life to finish it?
Add comment February 16, 2009
Coincidence or calling?
Have you seen the movie Fools Rush In? It’s about opposites attract, going with your gut and making two worlds work together. Isabel (played by Selma Hayek) firmly believes God sends us signs to show us what we’re supposed to do. After only knowing him for two days, she marries Alex (played by Matthew Perry). Alex doesn’t believe in signs and, when the honeymoon wears off and work starts stressing him, decides their marriage was a mistake. He moves from her home in Vegas back to Manhattan. But when he gets there everything reminds him of her and the life they had started together. Marquees, bus logos, strangers walking their dogs, a priest on the sidewalk — he even runs into a little girl at the heliport named Isabel.
Lately time seems to be connected by themes. For a week or a month or however long, I will continually run into reminders of the theme, whatever that may be for that period of time.
Last month, for example, every day something would point me toward adoption or under-priviledged kids. I saw ads in magazines and pamphlets in stores. The same billboards I pass everyday typically advertising jewelry or some degenerate movie were suddenly seeking foster parents. While waiting in line for the zoo train I overheard an entire conversation about how orphans misdiagnosed with learning diabilities are locked in state facilities with no prospects of adoption. I ran into an old friend awaiting the arrival of their son adopted from India. Even the novel I was reading talked about caring for forgotten children.
So my question is this: are these signs that I need to be following? I know, I know getting doctrine from a movie is not the brightest idea. I’m just saying that the frequency and relentless nature of these encounters makes me think of that part of the movie. And it makes me wonder if I’m missing something.
So what do you think? When time has a theme is it coincidence or calling? Is it a window of opportunity shut when you refuse to open it? Or is it a subconscious discovery? Are those things always there just never noticed before?
3 comments July 14, 2008
It’s a good day.
I’ve blogged before about what makes a good day. Is it sleep the night before? When things are going the way you want them to? Or is it just the attitude you have toward the day? I think it’s all of these things and more. I think a good day comes from knowing where God wants you and standing in the middle of it. There may be a storm all around you, but as long as you know you’re where you’re supposed to be, doing what you’re supposed to be doing, it’s a good day. Today is a good day.
Didn’t sleep last night, but that’s not new. Both kids had bad dreams. Ellie ended up sleeping on the couch. She came into our room bright and early. Was it 6 A.M.? Does it matter? I had already been up for a while praying and listening and imagining I was still asleep, but once she came in the day began. Rick jumped into the shower – okay, slithered may be a more accurate term – and Ellie climbed up in bed with me. We began our daily ritual of me pretending it’s nighttime and her insisting it’s daytime. As she flung open the blind to show me the blue sky, she noticed one of her children’s Bibles in the stacks of books that line our bedroom. Thus began story time. We took turns reading Bible stories for about half an hour until Zach meandered in sleep-eyed and adorable in his footed pajamas. Time for food.
There are a few things consistent with all Dennis men. Once their minds are made up, they’re made up. Negotiations, manipulation, begging, even feminine wiles mean very little and often evoke the opposite of intended results. Secondly, they need food to function. No fancy-schmancy girl food, either. Real food. Something of substance. Zach, for example, will eat an entire pound of bacon all by himself. Did I mention he’s two? Yeah. Once Zach wakes up the clock starts ticking. Gotta get food in him or the family’s equilibrium will quickly be upset. Fortunately, I went to the grocery store yesterday!
Blueberry pancakes with some Laurie Berkner and Go Fish! in the background. A perfect morning. Oh, and did I mention the after breakfast workout? The kids decided to tackle me repeatedly on Zach’s bed, which is really just a mattress lying on the floor. (We’re still deciding how to do his “big boy” room.) Well, this resulted in about forty crunches on my part with 34-40 pound weights (a.k.a. my children) wiggling around on my legs. That’s the most intense exercising I’ve done in at least a week!
Yup, it’s a good day. Zach has even gone in the potty twice already this morning. It’s not that things are going well. We’ve had our share of sibling arguments this morning as well, and Zach was not exactly thrilled about wearing underwear today; Ellie’s been whining because the rain is sure to destroy her plans to ride bikes today.
It’s a good day because I know I’m right where I belong doing what I’m supposed to be doing. I’m a mom and I’m taking care of my kids the best way I know how. I’m training them to know God and live a life that honors Him. Hopefully I’m being an example of how to love Him with all their hearts. It’s a good day because I know my purpose and am taking the small steps necessary to fulfill it.
6 comments July 7, 2008
Today’s Soapbox
Have you seen the commercials for the movie Get Smart? My husband really wants to see this. In one of the commercials Agent Smart is flying through traffic or something next to a minivan. The kid in the back yells out: “Mom! Mom! Mom!” His mother halts her cell phone conversation to yell into the backseat: “Brad! Brad! Brad! Do you see how annoying that is?!”
Every mom can relate. We want to be there for our kids when they really need us, like when some man is flying by the car as we drive or the wrong thing gets flushed down the toilet, but the effect is lost when the “wolf” call is made too many times in less than dire situations. Or when they simply aren’t talking to us at all!
Here’s an actual conversation from this morning:
Ellie: “Mom!”
Me: “Yeah, babe?”
Ellie: “Mom!”
Me: “Yes?”
Ellie: “Mommy?”
Me: “What?”
Ellie: “Mom-meeeeee!”
Me: “What??”
Ellie: “MOM!!”
Me: “What?!! What do you want?”
Ellie: “Um …. um … um …”
And then she drifts off, not even looking at me.
I leave the room.
Three minutes later: “Mom!”
I return already frustrated from the earlier exchange: “Ellie. If you have something to tell me, just tell me. I’ve answered you a number of times and you’re not saying anything. If you call me, talk to me. Do you understand?”
Ellie: “Yes, Mom. Mom?”
Me: “Yes?”
Ellie: “Can I tell you something?”
Me: “Yes?”
Ellie: “Flowers smell nice.”
Ten minutes later I hear this from the basement where I’m doing laundry:
“MOM!! I NEED YOU!!!!”
I race up the stairs, but my kids’ voices are quite similar so I have no idea who made the distress call. Ellie’s sitting on the toilet and Zach is playing cars just outside the bathroom.
Me: “Who needs help?”
Ellie: “Zach.”
Zach: “No, I don’t.”
Me: “Zach, are you okay? Do you need something?”
Zach: “No.”
Me: “Ellie, what happened?”
Ellie: “Nothing.”
Me: “Did you call me?”
Ellie: “No.”
Me: “Who called me?”
Ellie: “I did.”
Me: “Why?”
Ellie: “I love you!”
I hate it when people use my name in vain. My mother seemed to think I was being sacriligious the first time I used this phrasing, but this is exactly what I mean to say. I cannot stand it when people call out to me without purpose. If there is no reason to use my name, then don’t. It’s irritating. Exasperating. And yes, annoying. I love my children to pieces! I love being their mom! But there is no reason for them to scream as if a limb has been severed when all they want to say is that they love me. There are better ways to give me this wonderful message.
Kinda makes me wonder how God feels when His name is used in vain. We say we love Him, to, but how often do we actually say it in a way that shows the heart of that message? You hear a hollow yet emphatic “Jesus” or “God” exclaimed much more frequently than you might hear “Tanya!” or “Oh my John!” I don’t want to be a Neuman where my name becomes a curse word and yet that’s just what has happened to the name of Christ. My heart cinches every time I hear someone use His name in vain. Can you imagine how hurtful this must be to Him? Imagine how many times God hears people call out to Him without purpose or meaning. Shame on us as a culture.
2 comments June 19, 2008
I did it!
Anyone ever read A Hat for Ivan? It’s a children’s book by Max Lucado. It describes a village in which all the citizens wear hats. On their 12th birthday, they each receive their own customized hat, made just for them by the hatmaker. These hats tell them what they should do and what they should become. They draw attention to their strengths, their gifts and their greatest joys. The story tells of the hatmaker’s son, Ivan, who is about to turn 12. As he walks through town, several people give Ivan hats just like theirs. They presume to know what he should do. The baker wants him to be a baker; the music teacher thinks he would be better suited as a musician; the fireman has his own ideas, as well. None of the hats fit very well and they all weighed him down. Ivan was left in a heap trying to please everyone and never truly reaching his potential.
I’ve been an Ivan. Blame it on my middle-child syndrome. Or maybe I’ve just been convinced it’s the “right” thing to do. Regardless, I’ve been moping around for three weeks trying to convince myself to wear hats that don’t fit. I’ve been weighed down by what others think I should be doing. I’ve been crumped into a pile by the expectations placed upon me — none of which fulfill my purpose. I’ve listened to the wrong voices.
After posting this week and receiving all your words of encouragement, I did it. I made the calls I needed to make to get out from under the wrong hats. And you know what? Just like Ivan, I feel so much lighter! I feel happier and, best of all, I can now wear the hat made just for me. I’ve regained my desire to write. I’ve actually spent several hours today working on my book; a project that nearly fizzled has been revived. I’m so grateful!
So, THANK YOU for your prayers and encouragement. Thank you for your sound wisdom. And thank you for your patience with my compaining and dim-wittedness, two traits that seem to prevail often. *grin* I praise God He doesn’t give up on us, even when we’re not listening. I thank Him for His clear direction and quiet strength that allow us to heed His still, small voice.
1 comment March 29, 2008
Finding Focus
I wrote a children’s book last month. This month I spent teaching stamp classes, studying magazine markets and starting a new freelance editing project. Next month I’ll be running a new book giveaway over at CCBR. None of this has anything to do with my nonfiction book proposals. Three months pass and I’m not a single step closer to my goal.
Before our vacation one of my writing groups held a discussion about branding, setting a distinct way for people to remember you and what you do. People naturally brand, so the idea is to brand yourself before others give one to you. If you want to be known as a suspense novelist, write great books to earn you that title. Parenting books won’t do the trick. If you want to be known as a missions advocate, speak about your passion, and I don’t mean your baseball card collection. Once people categorize you, it’s difficult to alter their perceptions.
Personally, I wish I had convinced Sunday school workers my son is assertive and passionate before they labeled him as difficult and aggressive. It’s not lying or changing the facts, just putting a positive light on them. We admire assertive and passionate adults. Those same traits in a two-year-old, however, exhaust and frustrate us. I face an uphill battle convincing nay-sayers how wonderful my kid is when they’ve already decided he’s trouble.
Our discussion revolved around pros and cons, hows and whys. A number of members grew concerned. They didn’t want to be pigeon-holed. Is it “wrong” to write more than one genre? To enter diverse markets? One panelist explained it’s not “wrong,” but it’s not expedient either. We can go in different directions at the same time, but we’ll arrive at both destinations much later than if we had just chosen one path.
Rick and I experienced this last month. We were meeting a group of friends for our annual outing to a special resturant. Rick printed Yahoo maps and I copied directions from the website. After some off-roading (nearly driving into a lake), we arrived an hour late — all because we tried to follow two routes at the same time.
I would rather be known as diverse than distracted. But then sometimes distracted is the better word. My time is limited. Spending it playing an online version of Boggle doesn’t help me finish those book proposals. I need to focus.
What is the focus God wants you to have? Are you divided in your endeavors?
We all wear several hats. I’m a mother, a wife, a friend, a sister, a neighbor, a daughter. I’m also a writer, a teacher, an encourager, a stamper and scrapbooker. And this is just a glimpse! I’m not saying we can only be defined by one thing. I’m just saying that we need to emphasize the one thing God wants to be our focus. If He wants you to witness to your coworkers, you can’t spend all your time together talking abour movies and never mentioning the Gospel. If God wants you sharing meals with the homeless, you can’t avoid where they live.
Let’s find our focus and reach our destinations.
Photo by Margo C, courtesy of Flickr.com.
3 comments February 24, 2008
Life’s choices
Have you watched your fill of holiday movies this season? Everyone has their favorites. Mine include The Sound of Music, though I’m still not sure why this is considered a Christmas movie — does it have anything to do with the holidays? Doesn’t it take place over the summer? National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation is another classic. But my very favorite is The Family Man. If you’ve never seen it, I highly recommend you do.
What I fear more than anything else is that I will reach the end of my life with a mountain of regrets. Everyone has something they wish they had done differently. I’m not really talking about the little things; I’m referring to life-changing decisions. I worry my bad decisions will outweigh the goods ones, so much so that my life’s triumphs will be unnoticed in the face of blaring defeat.
The Family Man looks at one decision and shows a man how different his life would be had he taken the other path. I wonder what my life would be if I had chosen differently. If I hadn’t married Rick … if we had no children … if we had moved to Boston insted of New York … if … if … if …
I think about me before these decisions. I was a hippy artist in high school and a globe-trotting humanitarian in college. I was assertive, confident, even cocky. I was involved in everything. I was an actress and a player. It seems a lifetime ago in someone else’s backyard. Have I left who I am behind? Is that who I am or is who I am now the real me? Have I made the right choices?
Everytime I start thinking this way, a song from church echos in the back of my mind. It slowly crescendos until its words are all I hear. “My Savior loves. My Savior lives. My Savior’s always there for me. My God He was. My God He is. My God He’s always gonna be!”
The same God I served in Bosnia and Switzerland and Indiana and Philadelphia is the same God I serve now. He is living and loving and always by my side.
In the movie, Tea Leoni’s character talks about these what if’s. She wonders what her life would be like if she hadn’t married her husband … “and then I realize I’ve just erased all the things in my life I’m sure about.” I love that line.
Life would definitely be different. But it doesn’t matter because the same God I served then I serve now and He is the one in control. He knows I need what I’m sure about. He knows our best purposes and will ensure we fulfill them.
5 comments December 20, 2007
Frustration vs. Procrastination
“I think of Joseph, whom Hannah and I are studying in homeschool. When he was given disappointments and hardships that we can’t even imagine, in the end he looked the ones who were responsible in the face and said that God meant it for good, and it was okay because of that. Beyond that, I am constantly convicted by something I heard David Jeremiah say on the radio recently. That if we’re fatigued, if we’re frustrated, or if we’re failing, then we are trying to do it in our own strength. That made me mad at first, but I eventually saw that it was absolutely true, and I had to give up control back to Him if I was going to get anywhere.”
I’ve complained much of frustration lately. When I asked a friend to pray for me, this was the response she sent me. This entire week I’ve not felt frustrated, but credit is not due to my friend’s wonderful admonition. The reason I feel less weary is simply this: procrastination. I’m not stressed over how to spend my time or my energies because I’m wasting it all. I’ve been drowning myself (and my time) in novels. Not that there is anything wrong with reading!! Wow – I would never even think such a thing! But if reading keeps me from fulfilling grander purposes; if it supersedes what should be a higher priority, isn’t that a problem?
“Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord rather than for men.” — Colossians 3:23 (NAS)
In other words, we are to give our very best; we are to work with passion and tireless ambition, no matter what we do. I think of this verse whenever I tackle a less than glamorous chore. Like dishes. I hate doing the dishes. But reading! I love to read! I will gladly read with all my strength and all my time. But is that the work I’ve been called to do?
5 comments November 14, 2007
