Freeze-Frame Listening {November thoughts on listening}

{We leave this Friday night for a 2-month stay in New Zealand, catching up with family and friends after a 2-year absence...  Here are my November thoughts on listening, amidst stress and challenges - trying to find the thread of His voice!  For the rest of my monthly thoughts on my One Word for 2014, LISTEN, click here...} 

What if we could just freeze the frame?  What if, in the moment right before I explode in annoyance at my kid, I could freeze that frame of time and - make a different choice?

I’ve been doing a lot of editing recently - movie editing, that is.  We’re getting ready for a home leave in New Zealand and before we go back we usually try and put together a video of current daily life here in Central Asia to show friends and family…  It’s a long process, involving taking footage (and then more footage since the first lot is too wobbly, not high-res, etc, etc), converting all the clips into a format that works with Mac’s awesome iMovie editing program, picking and choosing the pithiest clips, and then… editing.  And editing.  And more editing.  Squeezing each clip down to its essence, and then squeezing even more until just the barest bones are left - glimpses strung together to make a flowing window into our lives.  

Not being ultra-techie, I feel my way along with these projects, and since I don’t use iMovie very often I always have to re-learn everything I learned last time I made a video.  I pick up some new tricks each project, too; recently, I discovered the “freeze frame” option for the first time.  Cool!  You can right-click in the middle of a clip, choose “freeze frame” from the menu, and the program lifts out a frozen frame of that image and sets it apart separately in your timeline.  You can leave it there in the middle of your video clip, a frozen moment, or you can lift it out and put it somewhere else.  

I wish I could do that.  I wish I could freeze-frame the moment just before I yell at my kids, pause everything mid-motion, stop my voice before it explodes out of my mouth, hesitate for a moment, and think.  Listen to the Holy Spirit, in that frozen moment.  Tune in.  Calm my beating heart.  Close my eyes and take a deep breath.  

And then speak.  Or act.  Or whatever I need to do.  But I guarantee, after a pause to take a step back, I would probably act differently almost every time. 

Recently, in an attempt to get enculturated for our re-entrance back into Western society, we finally watched the Disney hit “Frozen” as a family.  We liked it; it’s cute, funny,  not scary, and profound in a simple but true way…  

{SPOILER ALERT: if any of you, like us, have also been on another planet and have NOT have watched “Frozen” yet, skip the next paragraph…}  

Our sensitive Will was nearly in tears at the end, when the younger sister Anna, with her last un-frozen breath, steps in front of her older sister to save her from a crossbow arrow, and in the very act her frozen heart finally transforms her completely to ice.  Each of Princess Anna’s fingernails and eyelashes freeze solid into an exquisitely detailed blue-ice statue.  The very moment she saves her sister is literally frozen in time.  

I wish I had a magic wand so I could freeze a moment with a flick of my wrist - just make everything hang stock-still in mid-air, like a movie Pause button, or a crystallized ice-Princess. 

I don’t have a wand.  I just have my imagination.  But I’m learning I can actually imagine pausing my heart / words / thoughts long enough to listen to the Holy Spirit’s quiet whisper in that moment.  

You know, I’ve realized lately that even though I do think of Jesus always being with us, for some reason I usually picture Him as across the room from me: present, but not within reach.  Recently, during a prayer time with a friend, Jesus showed me that He is actually right. next. to. me.  Close enough to whisper in my ear.  Close enough so that even His whisper sounds louder than the world’s hubbub around me.  That’s how close He is, all the time.  Every minute.  Washing dishes, changing a diaper, hosting a friend for tea, breaking up a boys’ fight, walking down the street, talking to my husband, laying down for a nap… Jesus is as close as my breath.  

So, if I can freeze the frame, and remember His nearness, I can focus on listening for His quiet voice.  

And that might make all the difference.

Make Your Own Advent Calendar, Part 2

{Preparing to celebrated Advent with your family?  Why not make your own family Advent Calendar to use year after year?  

For part 1 of this series, click here...} 

I love this story from Noël Piper about their family Advent Calendar:

“Mommy, Mommy!  May I open the next window on the calendar?”  A simple pasteboard Advent calendar with one flap to open on each day in December is probably the most familiar way to help a child understand the wait until Christmas.  In the stores several themes are likely to be available, including Swiss mountain villages and Santa’s workshops.  But since the Advent -- the coming -- we’re waiting for is Christ’s, let’s make sure our daily countdown has a real Christmas setting.

“For our family a more permanent calendar has become a tradition. When our first child was a toddler, I could find hardly any Christmas things that had to do with Jesus.  So I created the Noël Calendar, a burlap banner with plastic and wood figures that by December 25 have been attached with Velcro across the top half of the banner to represent the Christmas story.  Throughout the month, that story is told in increments, starting over at the beginning and adding a bit more each day.  

“The first year we used the calendar, I learned an important lesson: Repetition is an excellent way for a child to memorize.  In mid-December, when Karsten was barely two, my mother-in-law died in a bus crash in Israel.  With little time to plan, we were on our way from Minnesota to South Carolina to take care of my father-in-law, who had been injured.  On an impulse I had tossed the calendar into a suitcase.  In the midst of so much confusion, shock and irregularity, Karsten forgot everything he’d learned about potty training and too much of what he knew about behaving.  But even though he could hardly make a whole sentence on his own yet, he could pick up the Christmas story at any point and keep it going, word for word, as he’d heard it day after day when we did the calendar. 

“...This period in Karsten’s life was the time when I began to realize the place of [repetition and regularity] in my life with my children -- repeating regularly the story that for centuries God’s people had longed to know.  

-Noel Piper, Treasuring God in Our Traditions (emphasis added)

Make Your Own Advent Calendar: Part 2

Getting Started…

1. Gather your materials:

• colored felt
• printed out paper patterns for felt shapes
• sharpie marker
• scissors
• Tacky Craft Glue or a hot glue gun
• safety pins

2. Safety-pin enough allowance at the top of your background piece so you can put a dowel through it later to hang it up.

Check Spacing…

Check to make sure you have room on your background for everything you want to include: 

• the title - "The Christmas Story"
• the finished manger scene underneath
• the 25 storage spots for all the pieces at the bottom

1. Lay out your paper letters for the title “The Christmas Story” at the top of your background piece. 

2. Under the title, lay out your paper patterns for your manger scene, the way you want it to finally appear on Day 25.  Place a pencil or pen horizontally on your background to mark the bottom of the scene.   

3. Next, shift all your pieces down to the lower half of your background (under the pencil) and lay them out in rows, ordering them from #1-25.  At this stage you're checking spacing and proportions to make sure all your characters fit.

Start Making Pieces…

Now you're ready to start making pieces!  

1. First, if you haven't done this already, make a list of your 25 pieces and write down the colors of felt you want to use for the parts of each one. 

2. Then, start with any piece you like.  I started at the beginning, with Mary, and worked my way down the list.

The patterns I found online seemed a bit plump, so I cut them down a little and traced around Mary’s body, head, and head-covering on colored pieces of felt.  Then I glued them together with generous dots of craft glue.  (A hot glue gun would work better, but I didn't have one of those.)

3. I went on to make Joseph, adapting my friend’s patterns to suit what I wanted.

4. Bethlehem came next: a long rectangle of gray felt behind with a brown square on top, with yellow lighted windows and doors.

5. For the animals, I used my friend’s designs for almost all of them.  The only animal I had to draw myself was the camel, and I must admit I'm pretty proud of him!

I used craft glue to attach a small square of velcro on the back of each character.  {PS: After four years of use, the glue still seems fine overall - only an occasional re-glue needed.}

It took me a couple crafting sessions to finish all my pieces… This is the only time-consuming part - the rest is easy!

All your pieces finished?  Congratulations!  You've finished the hardest part!  Keep going!  

To read the next post in this series, click here… 

{For a copy of the Christmas story divided into 25 pieces, email me at carolyn@carolynbroughton.com}

Make Your Own Advent Calendar, Part 1

{This November, I’ll be reposting my popular series, Make Your Own Advent Calendar.  Want to make a calendar for your family this year?  Keep reading to find out how...}

Ever since I came across the idea in Noel Piper's book Treasuring God in Our Traditions, I wanted to make one.  

In her wonderful book, Noël expounds on and gives practical examples of the Piper family belief in creating “God-centered traditions, Bible-saturated family patterns, and grace-laden heirlooms”.  

I couldn’t agree more.  

Here’s how Noël describes the season of Advent:   

“Advent is what we call the season leading up to Christmas.  It begins four Sundays before December 25, sometimes in the last weekend of November, sometimes on the first Sunday in December….  

“For four weeks, it’s as if we’re reenacting, remembering the thousands of years during which God’s people were anticipating and longing for the coming of God’s salvation, for Jesus.  

“That’s what advent means-- “coming”.  Even God’s men who foretold the grace that was to come didn’t know “what person or time the Spirit of Christ in them was indicating” (v.11).  They were waiting, but they didn’t know what God’s salvation would look like…  

“We Christians on this side of Jesus’ birth are a God-blessed, happy people because we know God’s plan.  The centuries of waiting are over.  We have the greatest reason to celebrate.

“And yet we are still waiting.  Our spiritual redemption came to us with the baby of Bethlehem.  Nevertheless, as Romans 8 says, “we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies” (v.23).  There is suffering and tragedy still, even for Christians.  Someone we love is dying.  We may be in pain.  Sometimes we have trouble believing God’s promises.  In other words, our redemption is not complete.  We are waiting for the redemption of our bodies--waiting for Jesus’ second advent, for him to come again.

“So here we stand in the middle.  Advent is a season of looking back, thinking how it must have been, waiting for the promised salvation of God, not knowing what to expect.  And at the same time, Advent is a season of looking ahead, preparing ourselves to meet Jesus at his Second Coming.”  

~Noel Piper, Treasuring God in Our Traditions (emphasis added)

A family Advent calendar is one way Noël's family keeps Christmas Christ-centered.  When my oldest child was 2, I made a calendar for our family, and it's the part of "getting ready for Christmas" our three kids are already looking forward to.  Our calendar hangs on a prominent wall in our house during the month of December, and is something personalized and unique to our family that we will cherish for years to come.  The best part is - it's PORTABLE!  Perfect for our sojourning lifestyle.  (This year we will be using it in New Zealand, as we visit my husband's family for Christmas.)

When I was getting ready to make my own calendar, I initially contacted Desiring God to see if they were still selling them (why reinvent the wheel?), but… alas, they’re not making them anymore.  

So, back to square one: making it myself.  I googled Noël’s calendar and found several sites with pictures, and also came across another creative mother who’s made one for her family and freely offers felt patterns and even DIY kits on her site.  (When I made my calendar 5 years ago her kits weren’t available, and I wanted to make a few changes to our own calendar anyway. I’m really happy with how ours turned out.)

Why couldn't this be the November you make an Advent Calendar for your own family?  Just follow my easy, step-by-step instructions in this series to create a beautiful, unique Advent Calendar your family will enjoy year after year.

Make Your Own Advent Calendar: Part 1

Getting Started…

1. Map out your Calendar on paper first.  Figure out the basic proportions of your finished manger scene compared to the storage section for the pieces. 

On our calendar, I put the title at the top, with space for the completed 25-piece manger scene underneath (the kids will place one piece each day).  At the bottom I left enough space to store all the pieces in rows.  Feel free to arrange your calendar any way you want to.

2. Next, print out the paper patterns and cut out enough pieces to see how they will fit on your background.  My initial end result looked a little crowded; in the end I cut my actual felt characters down a little smaller.

3. If you like, go ahead and make an initial list of the characters and the colors of felt you want to use for each one.  This will save time later and also give you an idea of how much of each felt color you will need.

4. Google “alphabet block pattern” and choose a simple style of lettering you like.  Print it out, and cut out paper patterns for the letters in the title: “The Christmas Story” to make sure all the letters will fit across your felt background piece.

Part 1 complete!  Great job!  

See you next week...

To read the next post in this series, click here… 

{For a copy of the Christmas story divided into 25 pieces, email me at carolyn@carolynbroughton.com}

*****

In the Comments:

How are you planning to celebrate the season of Advent as a family?  

Leave a comment with a description of an Advent memory, an idea for an Advent tradition, or an insight into the meaning of Advent.  I’d love for this post to become a collection of creative ideas for celebrating the season of Advent with your children! 

Let’s have fun together coming up with creative ways to keep Christ at the center of Christmas!

wholly listening and holy listening {August thoughts on listening, Part 2}

{I'm focusing on the word "listen" as my One Word for 2014.  This is Part 2 of my August thoughts on listening... You can read Part 1 here, and the rest of my thoughts on listening here.}

So, as you already know, I’m a mother.  Every day.  And if you’ve been reading along in this series of posts, you’ll know I’m discovering afresh that a mother is also a mentor.  Every day.  

Each one of us, whether we realize it or not, is a mentor.  We each have people in our lives who are looking up to us, whether we’re aware of it or not. If you have an online presence, you are almost definitely a mentor to someone, or many someones.  If you are a parent, well, it's obvious who your little mentorees are. If you’re a part of a church family, no matter how young you are there are people younger than you who are following your example.  

So.  This is big stuff.

Yesterday at nap time I snuggled down to continue this book on Spiritual Mentoring I'm reading for a leadership course I’m doing through our organization, and I stumbled upon yet another eye-opening list.  Are you ready?  

This one's titled “The Three Essential Functions” of the mentor. They jumped off the page at me:

Holy Listening

Holy Seeing 

and Wholly Listening.

Not kidding.  I read those words, and I literally laughed out loud.  (Just in case I was still wondering why God had me pick “listen” as my word for 2014 - no further doubt!)  

Curious to know what the authors mean by those phrases?  

So was I.  They define holy listening as “giving attention, developing companionship, enjoying friendship, traveling the road together with the mentoree aware of the Holy Spirit in all places.”  In other words, listening to life “on the way”.  

Holy seeing is “observing the other with love, compassion, genuine care, concern and interest in the development of the mentoree.”

Wholly listening is “being fully and authentically present to the spiritual seeker and the Holy Spirit, daring the courage of a vulnerability that appropriately self-discloses to the mentor, a vulnerability in which all of me listens to all of you.”

Did you catch that whammy of a last line?  “Daring the courage of a vulnerability that appropriately self-discloses…a vulnerability in which all of me listens to all of you.”  

Wow.  Talk about a lesson in listening.

I don't know about you, but I'm not seeing much of the Messiah or Problem-Solver cropping up in these definitions, are you?  No active verbs like “wisdom-dispensing” or “problem-solving” or “rescuing” - all the things I like to think I’m good at and enjoy doing.  (After all, who doesn’t like feeling like a Super-Hero, even if it’s an illusion?)  

The verbs in that list are gentle:  Observe.  Be present.  Be vulnerable.  Even “appropriate self-disclosure”, the most active verb in the list, requires being vulnerable, which brings us back to being, not doing. 

The authors say that when someone is able to listen wholly, with all of themselves attuning to all of the other person, holy listening occurs.  In other words, in that moment, we see God together.  We glimpse Him, together, in the stories, moments, themes and patterns of our friend’s life.  

Listening is a holy practice in which people wholly attend to one another, and in the process discover the whole presence of God in that very moment.  In connecting with God, we become more whole ourselves, and more in tune with our lives and the purposes God has for us.

In the film Waking Life by Richard Linklater, there is a scene in which two artists, filmmaker Caveh Zahedi and poet David Jewell, discuss the idea of a “holy moment”.  Zahedi is talking about the fact that we usually walk around as if some moments are holy and other moments are not holy, and the medium of film is able to frame ordinary moments in a way that lets us see the holiness of each and every moment.  

Zahedi says, “And it’s like "Holy, holy, holy" moment by moment.  But, like, who can live that way? Who can go, like, ‘Wow, holy’? Because if I were to look at you and just really let you be holy, I don't know, I would, like, stop talking.”

“Well, you'd be in the moment. I mean ….” says David Jewell.

“Yeah.”

“The moment is holy.”

“Yeah, but I'd be open,” says Zahedi.  “And then I'd look in your eyes, and I'd cry, and I'd like feel all this stuff and that's like not polite. I mean it would make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Well you could laugh too. I mean, why would you cry?”

“Well, 'cause ... I don't know. For me, I tend to cry.”

“Uh-huh. Well ..."

“Well, let's do it right now. Let's have a holy moment.”

“Okay.”

They pause in the middle of their conversation and look at each other for a long moment, allowing the moment to fill up with presence, each allowing the wholeness of himself to be fully present to the other person’s self.  And both of their eyes - ours too, watching - fill up with tears. 

Finally, as if the holiness has to be broken with words lest it become unbearable, Jewell remarks, “Everything is layers, isn't it?”

“Yeah,” agrees Zahedi.

“I mean, there's the holy moment and then there's the awareness of trying to have the holy moment, in the same way that the film is the actual moment really happening, but then the character pretending to be in a different reality. And it's all these layers. And, uh, I was in and out of the holy moment looking at you. Can't be in a holy ... You're unique that way, Caveh. That's one of the reasons I enjoy you. You can ... bring me into that.”

The “that” David Jewell is trying to describe is the awareness of holiness which emerges when two people wholly attend to one another.  God is always here.  It’s when we pay attention that we finally see Him.

When I am conversing with another human being, made in the image of God, are my shoes off?  Am I wholly listening, so that I can practice holy listening?

What about when my kids want to talk to me?  Do I fully enter into their reality, slowing down, bending my knees to reach eye-level, putting an arm around their small shoulders, turning to look at life with them from their perspective?  

Am I attending to the lives around me with every atom of myself?  

Rather than being exhausting, this kind of focused awareness is centering.  Freeing.  Living in the moment is restful, not frantic.  

Why?

Because God is in the moment, with you.  With us.  

God is here.  Now.  

Take a deep breath, and breathe Him in.  

Now, listen...  

the four opposites of true listening {August thoughts on listening, Part 1}

{This year I'm focusing on one word: listen.  My next two posts, August thoughts on listening Parts 1 & 2, were inspired by a fantastic book I recently read and reviewed.  To read the rest of my posts on listening, click here...}

In a recent post I described my latest epiphany from this great book I’m reading on Spiritual Mentoring. My epiphany was - ready for it? - that spiritual mentoring applies to mothering as well. (Big surprise, right?)  And that I already have three little mentorees running around whose souls I’ve been called to build!  Yikes!  So I'm on board with everything I can learn about this thing called mentoring, especially as it connects with my word for 2014: listen.

The more deeply I travel into this book the more things are hitting home.  This week, a friend’s comment about weaknesses coincided with a quote I had just read about how we approach relationships.  

In her email, my friend said she was finding that “allowing God to uncover her weaknesses led to peace and freedom in her life.”  Being honest about her own short-comings, not just to herself but in front of other people, is freeing her to not be perfect.  

I’ve said it before: I like looking like I have my act together.  Vulnerability, showing my weaknesses, does not come easily or naturally to me.  I want peace and freedom just as much as the next person, but to get to that place by showing you my messy?  Just doesn’t appeal to me.

Here’s a list from Spiritual Mentoring of four things a mentor should not be.  As I read down the list for the first time, my eyes grew wide, because I realized uncomfortably that every one of these things has at some point been a hidden motivation for me:  

Four Major Pitfalls for the Spiritual Mentor to Avoid

The Messiah Complex: I believe I am to rescue you or deliver you from the struggles and pain of your life.

The Problem-Solver Mentality: I believe my role is to tell you what the right answers are or to offer a way out for you.

The Assembly-Line Syndrome: I believe my role is to shape you into a predetermined form or product.

The Wisdom Dispenser Approach: I believe I must dispense wisdom-on-demand every time I [talk with you], because I am a fountain of wisdom and truth.

The authors go on to say that “when a mentor becomes messiah, problem-solver, assembly-line worker or wisdom-dispenser, the opportunity for spiritual formation can become limited.  A mentor is none of these four, though problem solving, wisdom and answers may be part of the unfolding process.  Discernment is the pearl of great price for the mentor.  Attaining discernment requires vulnerability, humility and an ear open to listen to the voice of God’s spirit.”  (Spiritual Mentoring, Anderson/Reese, emphasis added)

Did you catch that?  Discernment is the pearl of great price in mature relationships, and attaining it requires vulnerability and humility, and an ear open to listen. 

Hmmm… listen.  My word for this year.  Coincidence?  

There is a crucial connection between my friend’s email and this quote in the book.  Did you catch it? My friend described her road to peace and freedom through allowing God to uncover her weaknesses.  None of those four mis-guided roles or motivations in relationships contain either vulnerability or humility.  The Messiah wants to save out of her own strength; the Problem-Solver wants to have all the answers; the Assembly-Line Supervisor thinks she already knows the plan; and the Wisdom-Dispenser wants everyone to think she’s incredibly wise and has her act together all the time.  

I’m realizing that, to my shame, I have often been happy to wear one of those misguided hats in a relationship rather than seek the humility and embrace the vulnerability necessary to discover true discernment - which is, ultimately, the only thing my friend really needs from me.  She needs me to listen to her, to enter in to her situation, and to hear from God with her and for her in order to find out what He wants her to do.  

That’s all.  

I don’t have to be God.  

I just have to listen to God, and listen to my friend.  

That’s it.  That’s the way to peace, and freedom.

To be continued…

“the dearest freshness deep down things” {September thoughts on listening}

{Stay tuned for a back post of August's thoughts on my One Word for 2014: listen. 

Now for a few thoughts from September...}

There is a deep quietness slowly growing in me.  I feel like  a field with a spring of water which has been clogged for years.  The leaves and bracken are slowly being cleared away, handful by handful, and the spring is beginning to well up with clear, fresh water.  

“There lives the dearest freshness deep down things”…

-Gerard Manley Hopkins, "God's Grandeur"

I am seeing more.  

It feels like entering the cool dimness of a great cathedral from a bright summer afternoon.  Slowly, gradually, as my eyes adjust, I am able to take in more and more details of the beautiful interior.

There is so much more to see than I have been aware.

The more my spirit sinks roots down into this quietness, the deeper I want to sink.  It is unspeakably refreshing.  To sit for a few minutes noticing the color of sky, the sound of birds, the curve of my daughter’s cheek.  To reach out to these things with my spirit and know them to be windows, passageways into God’s presence.  To sense Him here with me, close as breath.  This new seeing is a freshly discovered green pasture for my soul.

It’s this new awareness that causes my soul to well up in thankfulness.  I’ve realized, after trying lists and other tools to grow a thankful heart, that I can’t cultivate thankfulness until I first cultivate seeing and listening.  Awakening my senses, remembering I have them, using them to deeply pay attention… Now I can see what I have to be thankful for.  

The seeing itself begets thankfulness without effort.  

I see, and I become deeply grateful.  I hear my daughter’s sweet lips smacking sour grapes with two-year-old delicacy and I am flooded with awareness of her sweetness, and then gratitude that I am aware.  I catch her eye and grin, electricity flashes between us, and my awareness of relationship increases my pleasure in her, and my gratitude grows.  She grins back, blue eyes sparkling, round cheeks pushing up in folds under her eyes, golden bangs brushing her eyebrows.  

“Earth’s crammed with heaven,

Every common bush afire with God, 

But only those who see take off their shoes;  

The rest just sit round and pluck blackberries.”   

- Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "Aurora Leigh"

I still pick a lot of blackberries.  Today is Sunday, a day in which I've started practicing rest and contemplation, and my senses are heightened today while I write this post, which is why I’m aware of the well of freshness springing up enough to write about it.  But when I’m the thick of the week and the moments fly past too quick to grab and I’m changing poopy diapers, making lunch and dinner, welcoming unexpected visitors, and handling requests, phone calls and emails, blackberry picking seems all I can manage.  It takes a tremendous effort of will (and a well-rested body) to remember to see, and take off my shoes for the holiness of it all.  

I mostly plow through unnoticing.

You know, I’ve spent 30 years running and striving, habitually moving too fast to notice holiness.  So I have to keep reminding myself, You’ve only just begun.  I’ve only just started these practices of Sabbath rest and deep, attentive listening.  As I live into the next 30 years of my life and beyond, I’m hoping these practices will continue to bear this delicious fruit of the awareness of “the dearest freshness deep down things” in my everyday moment-by-moment living.  

If I can’t learn to see and feel the holy in my every day, the days of my life will pass and I won’t have spent them aware of God.  Wouldn’t that be an unbearable tragedy?

Because, like a thunderbolt, the realization strikes: we are practicing now for eternity.  What else will we do for all the ages except to notice and delight in the holiness of God, in all its myriad beauties and multi-faceted excellencies?   Forever, we'll delight in Him.  We'll notice and bathe in His holiness.  We'll fall deeper into Him, revel in our intimacy with Him, enjoy the exquisite privilege of curling up in the lap of the Lord of the universe.  

Why not start now?