Joy Dare Archives | Lynn H. Blackburn

Motherhood does not make me special

Lynn Blackburn — Mon, 07 May 2012 13:30:00 +0000

For the month of May, I’m going to be focusing on motherhood—the joys and challenges unique to this particular calling.
But before I do, I want to make one thing clear.

Motherhood does not make me special.

I know. Mother’s Day is in six days. (For the men who read my blog—and I really appreciate that you do—you have six days. Get cracking.) I’m all in favor of taking a day to honor mothers.

But there are a lot of women who are not mothers. Some by choice. Some by circumstance. Some okay with it. Some heartbroken.

I live in the kind of place where the norm is for a girl to go to college, get married, work for at least a few years, and have some babies.

And I said the norm not because that’s what every woman does, but because that seems to be the expectation.

Now, I’m not going to talk about how any woman should be content in her singleness. Or how any woman should be patient as she waits for a child she longs to hold. I wouldn’t go there because if I did, any one in those circumstances could point to me and say, “What do you know about it?”

And they would be right. I met my husband at nineteen. Got married at twenty-three. Had our first child at twenty-eight. Then quit my job as engineer to stay home with her and the little brothers who followed.

What I am going to talk about it this…motherhood does not make me any more special than any other child of God. My role as “mom” does not grant me special access to God or endow me with super-sensitive spiritual hearing. I do not believe that motherhood provides some sort of inside track to closeness to God or that God keeps special “behind the scenes” insights that are for parents only.

God uses whatever circumstance we find ourselves in to reveal Himself to us.

For me, He often uses the triumphs and challenges of motherhood to speak to my heart. But for you, it might be the joys and frustrations in your work environment or the difficulties that your neighbors present on a daily basis. If you’re a single woman over the age of 21, it might be the aggravation of dealing with that friend of your mother’s who wants to know when you’re going to “find you a good man to settle down with” or asks “isn’t it about time you had a baby” every time you see her.

(Side rant: So help me, the next time someone says that, I’m going to throw a New Testament at them and ask them if they’ve ever read the part that says it’s better not to marry. I know some singles who are changing the world for the Kingdom and all anyone can do is wonder why they aren’t married. Burns me up. OK. Rant over.)

So…I’m inviting you—single, married, widowed, divorced, lots of kids, no kids, male, or female—to join me this month. My theme may be motherhood, but my desire is not to make you wish you were a mommy, too.

It’s to encourage you to long to know your Savior more.

Join me?

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Are you taking the Joy Dare with me? Since November 1, 2011, I’ve counted over 600 graces…
May 7th – Three gifts about your home…The view from my bedroom window; the soft carpet upstairs; the people I share it with

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Mindful Mondays :: Rejoice Until You’re Glad

Lynn Blackburn — Mon, 23 Apr 2012 18:41:00 +0000

Today’s blog post was supposed to be about something different.

But that was before the day ran off the rails.

I had big plans for this day. Some writing, some housework, some exercise, some laundry.

I even made plans to get my day off on the right foot. I went to bed a little earlier than I wanted to. I set my alarm for earlier than I wanted to. And I knew how I would be tackling the day’s list as soon as my feet hit the floor.

I did not plan for my feet to hit the floor at 3:30 a.m.

Or at 4:30 a.m.

I did not expect the “quiet time” I planned for 5:45 a.m. to include a fussy baby. Or for my early bird toddler to ask to play Starfall at 6:10 a.m.

Today I feel inadequate. So very much not enough. So frustrated by a day that refuses to cooperate.

So I took my aggravation to the only One who really gets it, and what did He have to say?

“This is the day that I have made. Rejoice. And be glad in it.”

Why He made a day this messed up is beyond me. (I asked. I think He chuckled. I’m so glad He loves me even when I’m being a smarty pants).

And honestly, I still feel on the edge of a breakdown. I’m tired. The scale didn’t move as much as I had hoped it would. The bills still have to be paid. The laundry will not fold itself. The baby’s going to wake up soon and he’s still going to be cutting four teeth at once.

But…

My husband thinks I’m doing a great job.
My kids do, too.
My coffee tastes just right.
My sins are forgiven.
My standing before God is not dependent on how much I do today. It isn’t even dependent on my attitude or my behavior. I’m secure because of what Jesus did for me.
And, I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.

Maybe I can even rejoice until I’m glad.

Has this Monday morning got you down? Take a minute and write down a few things you’re thankful for. A few things that are good and glorious. (You can start with the fact that you are breathing if you’re having a hard time coming up with anything.) And then if you feel like it, share a few things with me in the comments. I’d love to hear about what gives you a reason to rejoice!

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I’ve been updating the Joy Dare page. It’s hard to stay grouchy when you count graces. Gladness stalks me with each line…

I’m looking for three gifts reflecting today…I’ll post them when I find them…I know they are out there!

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Sometimes I Stink

Lynn Blackburn — Mon, 09 Apr 2012 17:46:00 +0000

Sometimes I stink. (Okay, I stink a lot).

Hmmm…maybe I should explain….

So far this morning, I’ve served hotdogs for breakfast (don’t ask), returned the contents of the silverware drawer to their rightful homes (Emma was, er, displeased, by my removal of her art installation), and reheated my first cup of coffee in the microwave ~~once~~, ~~twice~~, three times.

In case you’re wondering, this is not how I envisioned this morning.

I got up early. (And I am not a morning person)
I had a plan. (And it did not include the melodic voice of my eldest singing to me from the top of the stairs at 6:05 a.m.)
I was prepared to put my plan into action. (I’m still prepared, but…)

God clearly had a different plan.

And it made me wonder about some other women, two thousand years ago…

They got up early. Who knows if they had slept? Eyes swollen in grief. Stomachs churning in fear. Minds swirling in confusion.
They had a plan. A final act of love. To anoint the body.

Have you ever wondered what they must have expected to see? Jesus had been dead for three days. His body had been turned into bloody pulp, and that was before nails held his quivering flesh to a cross.

These women weren’t expecting to find the kind of false perfection we are accustomed to when we pay our last respects. I don’t know, but my guess is they expected stench, rot and decay. Maybe bugs.

So they came prepared. They had their spices and they were ready to do what needed to be done.

I doubt they ever imagined that God had a different plan.

Of course, He always had. It came as no surprise to Him that their day didn’t go the way they had planned. And His plan was so much better.

So why do I fight Him? Why do I get so aggravated when my plans are thwarted?

Why can’t I remember that God is not surprised?

Why do I sulk and fume, instead of accepting His change and running with joy into the day He has prepared for me?

Those women did. I wonder if spices were strewn all over their path as they sprinted away. And I wonder how my day, my children, and my world would be different if instead of spewing toxic fumes of annoyance, I would choose to leave behind a pleasant fragrance as I charge into His will for my life.

If you’re thinking that sometimes you stink too, then let’s fall into grace together, shall we?

(For some reason, I think grace might smell like Spring).

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Are you taking the Joy Dare with me? A thankful heart is a joyful heart!

A gift held ~ hot coffee; sleepy babies
A gift hiding ~ a ripe avocado (hiding in the onions – not sure how it got there!)
A gift heard ~ “I love Baby Drew” (from James)

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Count it all joy?

Lynn Blackburn — Mon, 19 Mar 2012 13:45:00 +0000

I joined a gym last week.

As I perused the group fitness schedule, I noticed a class called Intense Fit. My body said NO WAY but my brain pointed out that the handout specifically said the class was for “all levels” so it couldn’t be that bad.

My body is still ticked that my brain won that argument.

I knew trouble was brewing when the instructor sent us to run three laps as a warm up.

Three laps? As a warm up?

I got through the laps and found myself leaning against a wall with two people who looked like they’d been out for a leisurely stroll. (I was trying not to humiliate myself by gasping for air).

One says in a perky voice, “My butt was sore after last week’s class.” To which the other says, “Really? That’s great!”

Folks, they were dead serious.

I survived the first half of the class, albeit with a new and profound hatred of burpees, and as we transitioned to the upper body portion, the instructor congratulated me on hanging in there. She said I was doing great. (She was being kind, but I’m pretty sure she was wondering how long it would take the EMTs to arrive when I passed out).

As we neared the end of the class, the instructor commented that we were finishing a few minutes early. Some helpful person near the front said something, and next thing I know, we’re jumping around doing some sort of air jacks.

Well, some people were jumping.

I was doing an approximation of a hop.

And rebuking myself for the un-Christian thoughts I was having toward that lunatic who couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

I managed to stay upright as I left, although I did lean on the handrails as I eased down the stairs. Before I got to my car, the ache set in. By the next morning, I hurt in places I didn’t know I had.

The thing is, I know this is good for me. I’m packing an extra 50—and I don’t mean IQ points. Something’s gotta give—preferably my waistline.

While I can’t say (yet) that I’m enjoying the process, some of those people were. They were laughing. And smiling. They did everything the instructor asked—and sometimes did things to make it harder than it had to be.

Keep in mind, they don’t enjoy the pain . . . But they are joyful in the midst of it.

Why?

Because they believe the effort will produce results—the kind of results they are willing to suffer for a while in order to achieve.

It’s given me a new appreciation for what James is talking about when he says, “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.”

Some translations say “endurance” or “patience” instead of “steadfastness” but I kind of like “steadfastness.” As I wobbled out of the class, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to finish an hour of Intense Fit and stand strong, ready for another round.

When James says we should “count it all joy” it doesn’t mean “enjoy the agony”. It means that joy, in the middle of suffering, is possible. I’m not sure I’m there yet, but I think I see how it could happen.

You have to believe—to your very core—that what you are going through will produce a result and that the result will be worthwhile.

What’s the result?

James 1:4 ~ And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. (ESV)

That sounds nice.

This is even better.

James 1:12 ~ Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love Him. (ESV)

You may be neck deep in a real life version of Intense Fit. You may have thought it was almost over, just to have someone crank up the heat. You may be staggering around in the aftermath of a brutal struggle.

If you listen, I believe you’ll hear God whispering, “You’re doing great, sweetheart. Hang in there. It’s worth it.”

I Peter 1:6-7 ~ In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. (ESV)

I’d love to hear from you. Have you been there? Have you watched someone else live a life characterized by joy despite intense difficulties? Take a moment and encourage all of us in the comments!

Are you taking the Joy Dare with me? A thankful heart is a joyful heart!

March 19
3 Gifts Eaten: Birthday cake, breakfast casserole, a perfectly crisp apple
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When the Miraculous Becomes Mundane

Lynn Blackburn — Mon, 05 Mar 2012 15:30:00 +0000

When you grow up in church, it’s so easy for the stories of Jesus to become—well—boring. After so much repetition, we lose our sense of wonder.

The miraculous becomes mundane.

When the wedding runs out of wine, we aren’t concerned. We know Jesus makes great wine. When the crowds are hungry, we aren’t worried about them. We know Jesus is going to multiply the loaves and fishes. And when the storm is raging, we don’t get too fussed about the disciples. After all, we know Jesus is going to calm the sea.

But what if we didn’t know? Would we read the stories differently?

It’s with this awareness of my own tendency to be underwhelmed that I’ve approached the gospels in recent months. And there are a few chapters in the Gospel of John that I’ve seen with fresh eyes.

It begins in Chapter 9 with a blind man. As the story unfolds, we see the disciples ask Jesus, “Who sinned? This man, or his parents, that he was born blind?”

The answer is astonishing.

Jesus flat out tells them that no one sinned, but this guy had been born blind so the works of God might be displayed in him.

Nice story. Right?

Um…sure…unless you’re the guy who was born blind. The guy who’d been begging for who knows how long in order to survive. The guy who had no reason to believe anything would ever change.

Ever thought about it from his perspective?

You may not realize it, but you have.

When suffering enters our life, we don’t know what’s going on. We don’t know how long it will last. We don’t know how the story ends. We are hurting, and we have no reason to believe anything will ever change.

It’s easy, during the darkest nights, to wonder if God even cares. To question His love. To doubt his compassion.

As He reads our story, does He skim over the hard parts because He already knows how it’s going to end?

Or does He feel our fear, our pain, our grief?

I would contend that when God sees the valleys coming up in our story, He takes a deep breath and then He walks right into them with us.

It is miraculous. And it is never mundane.

Next Monday, we’ll explore why I believe this.

Until then, remember…you are never alone.

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The Joy Dare continues….I need to update my blog page, but in my personal journal I’ve counted over 400 gifts since November…join me?

Three gifts found…my favorite pen; a fabulous series by a great author; k-cups on clearance!

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Wimpy, Wimpy, Wimpy

Lynn Blackburn — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 15:30:00 +0000

Please indulge me this Monday morning as we take a trip to the archives. My family is recovering from a 10 day battle with a nasty stomach virus. And I am recovering from some of the harshest criticism my writing has ever received. This post seemed appropriate. Grace and peace to all of you!

Originally posted 7/20/10.

I’m a wimp.

A cream puff.

A
marshmallow.

I’m so not cut out to be a
writer.

I’m anaphylactically allergic to criticism. And this
doesn’t apply only to my writing life. This is just who I am. I have the type of
personality that always wants to be right. Not in the “I’m right and you’re
wrong” way but in the “I’ll die of humiliation if I answer the question wrong so
I’m not going to raise my hand, even though I know the answer” way.

The
upside to being paranoid about making mistakes is that it has made me into a
very conscientious person. If you ask me to do something, I’ll do it. And then
I’ll go over it 100 times to be sure it’s right. And then I’ll call you a few
days later to see if it met your expectations.

Again. I shouldn’t
be writing.

Because all writing requires some form of criticism.

And criticism + Lynn = hyperventilation.

Each time I send a
writing sample off to someone, whether it’s for an assignment, or a guest blog,
or because they asked to read a few chapters of my book, it just about kills
me.

OK. I’ll admit that I’m a teensy bit prone to
exaggeration.

But the heart palpitations, sweaty palms, upset
stomach. Aren’t those symptoms of dreadful things — like heart
attacks?

So what’s a writer to do? When all the traditional
advice says that she must develop a thick skin if she’s going to survive but
when the transformation from thin to thick-skinned would require a personality
transplant?

I tend to assume that thick-skinned people send off their
work and don’t worry about it. They don’t spend time refreshing their email in
case someone has commented on their blog and their hands don’t shake when they
open up an email that will tell them whether their work has been accepted for
publication. They certainly don’t lose sleep over what some anonymous person
said about their book in an Amazon review.

But maybe — just maybe
— that isn’t the case at all.

Maybe the thick-skinned person
isn’t the person who stands tall and lets the waves of criticism roll by.

Maybe the thick-skinned person is the one the waves of criticism throw
to the ocean floor and keep them submerged so long they begin to wonder if
they’ll ever surface.

But when they are finally able to catch their
breath, they don’t run for the shore.

They stand up.

And let the waves do it all over again.

““““““““““““““““““““““““““““`

Criticism drags you under, gratitude pulls you up.
Joy
Dare 2012 ~ more grace…more joy…more hope…

3 gifts found outside . . .

1. Children, returned to health, giggling in the yard
2. Fresh, unseasonably warm air
3. Cheeky squirrels

You can find
all my Joy
Dare 2012 entries here.

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Audacious Hope

Lynn Blackburn — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 15:30:00 +0000

I hope for so many things.

I hope the weather will be perfect for my child’s birthday party.

I hope NCIS will never go off the air.
I hope the cheesecake I had for dessert will go to fuel my brain instead of finding its way to my hips.

I have no reason to believe any of these things will happen the way I want them to.

But I still hope.

We have more serious hopes. We hope our parents live forever and our children make us proud. And whenever a baby is expected, whether that child is yours, your grandchild, your friend’s first or seventh, there is a universal hope for wellness. We hear it all the time. “I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl. Just so long as they’re healthy.”

But sometimes . . . All the hoping in the world won’t change reality.

To read the rest of the post…I’m over at Encouraging Women today…please come by and say hello.

““““““““““““““““““““““““““““`

Joy Dare 2012 ~ more grace…more joy…more hope…

3 old things seen new…

my van that gets me where I need to go
my childhood comforter tucked around my sick toddler
Isaiah 26:3-4 ~ You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you. Trust in the LORD forever, for the LORD GOD is an everlasting rock. (ESV)

You can find all my Joy Dare 2012 entries here.

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Thoughtful Thursdays :: Joy Dare 2012

Lynn Blackburn — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 15:30:00 +0000

A few months ago I posted a review of One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. I’ve been counting gifts ever since. I’ve found it’s impossible to be grouchy and grateful at the same time so gift counting is something I wanted to be intentional about in 2012.

In December, I wrote about Joy. Joy in suffering. Joy in the Moment. Our real reason for Joy.

So imagine my Joy when I discovered the Joy Dare for 2012. An opportunity to count 1000 gifts in 2012, along with thousands of others, and rediscover Joy all year long.

If you look at the top of this page, you’ll see a “One Thousand Gifts” tab. You can click there to see my one thousand gifts in 2012. Ann’s made it as easy as imaginable with a calendar and prompts for every day.

I’ll also be tweeting (@LynnHBlackburn) my gifts (#1KGiftsDare) several times a week.

Won’t you join me in intentional joy and thankfulness this year?

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