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Throwing Pottery

April 13, 2016 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

I’ll be throwing pottery Friday if you want to come and watch, said the text from your cousin Charlene last week.

Throwing pottery? I knew she was a potter, but had not heard that term before. At any rate I decided to go and see her work as a novice.

So I went down to the potter’s house, and I saw him working at the wheel. But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands…….Jeremiah 18:3

When I arrived she was working on a partially finished bowl and had just a few finishing touches before it would be ready for the kiln. Upside down on the wheel, she carefully trimmed away some excess clay so the bowl would be just right. She was careful, yet still some chunks broke loose and the beautifully crafted rim she had molded was marred. Charlene simply chuckled and said,

Well, sometimes we think we are this, but then we are that.

She threw the broken chunks into a nearby 5-gallon blue bucket, not even lamenting about the change of plans, but remarked,

Nothing is wasted. All the mistakes just go into this bucket and we use them for a later project.

Immediately I thought about Romans 8:28 “…and we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose…” How often have I mourned and become angry about things that have happened to me, how I have not embraced the pain, the grief and the hurt that have come. I have simply wanted the agony to go away. I could see no point except pain in what was happening, and who wants that?

But God, our perfect Potter, wastes nothing. He saves the pain for a later project. Sometimes we think we are one thing, but God has another plan, a better plan. So a few chips get knocked off and He continues to do his good work.

Charlene used lots of different tools but her favorite was a little 89-cent sponge from the grocery store. A simple tool, but so effective. With it she could smooth the clay or make thin little lines all around the pot. She spoke,

Any good tool has many purposes.

Just think of all the tools God uses on you – your husband, your children, annoying workers at the office, rude neighbors and apartment dwellers, slow thinkers and movers. Every one of them has a purpose, to help mold us to become more patient, kind, generous, less boastful, more humble – more like Jesus.

After the first pot was finished Charlene started another vase beginning with a single lump of clay. She threw it on the blue plastic bat which was attached to the wheel head. It didn’t stick the first time so she threw it again, adhering well. But there it was on the edge of the bat. Even I knew that this was not going to work. So a few more times of throwing and it landed, with a little encouragement, exactly in the center.

Centering is everything.

Yep, that sure sounds like real life. If I don’t center myself on Jesus first thing in the morning, my day is not going to go well. I will find myself more critical, impatient, and annoyed. Just this morning I woke late, so jumped out of bed without even a word to Jesus and started my morning routine. At breakfast I snapped at a comment Dad had made, which typically happens less than it used to. Then I remembered, Oh yeah, I never asked for strength and help this morning, I just tried doing things in my own strength, which isn’t much these days.

As I watched that ugly lump of clay spin around on the potter’s wheel, it slowly took shape in the loving, wedging, nestling hands of Charlene. Watching her hover around the lump of clay I could see her joy in her work, her love for the art, and her vision for what was going to appear. Every now and again she would stop and center the lump a little better because it would tend to stray. She said,

Do not let the clay tell you what to do; it will become a very naughty toddler. This pot seems to have an attitude so I’ll have to center it again.

How often do I tell Jesus I don’t really like how my life is shaping up? I sometimes give him some ideas which I think would be much better: If you could just make things easier, less invasive, more predictable, yada yada. Really? I’m trying to tell the genius creator of the universe that I have a better plan? Perhaps I need to work on centering myself so I become more submissive, more obedient, trusting and accepting of what comes my way, knowing that God’s ways are ultimately the best. Giving thanks for the difficult stuff.

The potter is the hero of the story.

She is the one who forms, shapes and creates beauty with a seemingly useless ugly lump of clay. I think we (I know for sure I) want to be the hero and tend to put ourselves in a far too important role at times. But we must keep in mind always that Jesus is the Hero, He is the creator and sustainer of all things. Everything He does is good and will be used someday in His grand story.

I left that day before Charlene fired the pots in the kiln, however, I did learn that it heats up to 1800 degrees, and the pottery is cooked not once but twice. Once after the shaping, another time after the glaze is applied. I believe we as people go through the fire as well, our lives heat up almost beyond bearable, but at just the right time we are taken out and left to cool. How else can we become strong and durable? It certainly doesn’t happen when our life is sweet and cushy as marshmallows.

Making pottery is a process, and I now understand why handmade pottery is expensive. It gave me a whole new appreciation for the work Charlene does and the work, care and patience God has for me. Let Him have His way with you, my dear daughters, and you too will become beautiful in the hands of the Potter.

Love, Mom

The Extra Puzzle Piece

March 21, 2016 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

Last year I bought a beautiful puzzle for Grandma, a picture of a little girl playing the piano. After we completed it we noticed there was one lonely piece left over. It was an exact duplicate of another piece, so someone somewhere must have wondered why they were lacking one.

I have had that extra puzzle piece taped to my bedroom wall for the last year thinking there must be something significant about an extra piece of a puzzle.

Sometimes I feel like an extra puzzle piece, like I just don’t fit in, like the puzzle is finished and I’m on the outside looking in.

I remember being at a wedding reception where there was open seating – for me it is the horror of no pre-planned places to sit, so one has to move around from table to table trying to find a place to belong. This was during a time when I was extremely fragile emotionally because of life during that season. Dad and I went to one table full of laughter and smiles, knowing some people there, but they said the empty places were being saved for someone else. So we traveled on to another but there too, reserved for others. Finally at the fourth table there was room, but by that time I was nearly in tears so we went through the buffet line, wrapped up our meals and left. I think Dad gave some excuse that I wasn’t feeling well. True Story.

Do you ever feel like that, thinking that you are the only one struggling, the only person who doesn’t have it all together, crying on the inside but forcing a smile on the outside while everyone around you seems to be happily traversing through life?

Many years ago I remember looking at other couples thinking they must have such carefree marriages, simply because they were physically attractive or so personable to everyone. Then I started getting to know some of these beautiful people, talking honestly with them, and found out that heartaches occur in every marriage, rich or poor, glamorous or not. There are no exceptions.

A few weeks ago Saeed Abedini, a prisoner in Iran for over 3 years, was finally released. Since he and his wife, Nagmeh, lived in Boise, Idaho, there was lots of publicity in our area, public prayers and rallies for his release. His wife was an avid participant in many rallies for several years. Many people were shocked when five days after his release last month, Nagmeh filed for legal separation from her husband. Apparently there has been abuse in the marriage for years, and she finally became open and honest about it. I’m praying that the abuse will be dealt with, repentance and forgiveness will become a reality. But I remember thinking in the past that their marriage must be ideal because they’re a missionary couple.

I don’t care how good couples or singles look at the party, church, or family gathering, what goes on behind closed doors can be another story.

We were created for Eden and when we don’t experience perfection, or near to it, we grow frustrated and upset. There is a reason we are disappointed. God set eternity and perfection in our hearts and when it doesn’t happen we become downright angry.

God has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men… (Ecclesiastes 3:11)

Then we go on Facebook and see all the smiling faces, beautiful family pictures and perfect Pinterest ideals. But I know enough of the back stories of those photos to realize these pictures do not portray reality. They simply show a moment in time when there are smiles for the camera. What words were said and attitudes displayed before and after the camera shutter closed are not revealed, but we know those smiles do not continue through all moments of every day. Unfortunately, pictures seem to make us think they do.

Life is never going to be like our dreams, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t good.

In his book Bold Love, Dan Allender asks the questions:

Do I live for heaven?

Do I live demanding that life be like heaven?

The way we answer those questions will have a great deal to do with our attitude in life.

If we live for heaven, understanding that….

This world is not my home, I’m just passing through

My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue

The angels beckon me from Heaven’s open door

And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore

….then we can accept imperfections, disruptions, heartache, or feeling like a piece outside the puzzle. If we believe that this life on earth is temporary and we have an eternity before us, we will trust God with the disappointments and sorrows of our days. We will fight for good and against evil, and give thanks for the good gifts God so liberally gives, joyfully looking toward the time when there will be no tears.

But if we live demanding that life be like heaven, we will be forever disgruntled, blaming others for our unhappiness, becoming crabby and selfish. We need to be honest about our disappointments and heartache, knowing that in this world we will have trouble, but also that Jesus is our comfort and consolation in a world gone senseless.

There are many aspects of life that I would not have chosen – strained relationships, suicide, fatigue, dementia, insomnia, death, distance from those I love, arguments – yet without those experiences I would not have needed Jesus. I would not have been able to learn to love.

I’m certain every one of you have at times felt like that extra puzzle piece, simply because this is a fragmented world. But if we can learn to be content with the partial, remembering that this life isn’t supposed to be carefree and stress-free, we can perhaps live without clenched fists and anxious thoughts. Jesus knew our lives would be challenging so that we would lean into him and admit our need for a Savior. He wants us to grow up, to mature and become more like him. And of course there is no better way to grow up than to go through some tough perplexing problems that we cannot figure out on our own.

So be honest about your less than perfect marriage, your sometimes not obedient or respectful children, and invite Jesus into your mess. Ask him for strength to love, for perseverance to carry on, for faith to put your feet on the floor in the morning. Be thankful for the partial, the good in the darkness, and the hope for the future.

Love, Mom

A Shared Adventure

February 24, 2016 / Shari Baar / 2 Comments

Dear Daughters,

What is your favorite adventure story? One of my favorites is from the Chronicles of Narnia series, The Horse and His Boy by C.S. Lewis. The story is about a boy and girl along with two talking horses escaping to Narnia, a country far from where they met. They are both separately fleeing the wickedness that is being planned against each one of them.

The children, Shasta and Aravis, did not at all like the other when they first met, but because of life’s circumstances and Aslan’s guiding paw, they bonded together (often out of necessity) in order to keep safe and complete the journey. Their expedition was complete with arguments, danger, difficult decisions of loyalty, and dealing with ordinary human quirks of pride and selfishness.

Every great story has battles and is filled with adventure, marriage being no exception. I had never perceived my marriage as a shared adventure until I read the chapter by that name in John and Stasi Eldredge’s book Love and War. The Bible is filled with the drama and adventure of marriage – Adam and Eve, Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca, David and Bathsheba, Hosea and Gomer. In all these marriages there were times of discord, anger, conniving, trickery, blame and heartbreak.

Marriages today are no different from thousands of years ago. Yes, the outward trappings have changed, but the emotions, challenges and battles remain the same. Just as God chose to work through those long-ago marriages, so He works through yours and mine. He has an adventure and a mission in mind for you and your man.

Whether it is traveling together, erecting a tent, or discovering a beautiful national park, we are awakened from the dulling effect of the daily grind. Some of Dad’s and my biggest fights came as I, the directionally impaired navigator, tried to make sense of the paper Atlas (way before Google Maps) and would tell him as we were flying by an exit that I think this is the exit we were supposed to take. Putting up a tent together wasn’t exactly romantic either but we learned something new and decided to forgive after a bit of grousing.

Anyway, it’s good for us to have adventures, but also a shared mission in life.

I had never before thought about my marriage as having a mission apart from raising children and trying to have a happy home. Both of those goals are good and noble, but if that is your only goal in life it’s going to be tough when the kids are out of the house and you realize that you don’t even know your husband any more. Once the kids are gone the sense of shared adventure evaporates. That is why empty nesters’ divorce rate is so high. The children were hiding the chasm – the husband and wife were never one.

When Dad started pastoring, I began teaching music Monday through Friday. It was not an ideal situation. Our days off were never the same, he took Mondays; I never took a day off – which I have paid for in recent years. We never took date nights (practical me thought they were too frivolous and expensive) and we drifted apart. We each had our own separate calling, and yes sometimes we collaborated on projects but really didn’t have a shared mission.

As John Eldredge says:

A beautiful you and a beautiful me in a beautiful place forever is not the right vision of a marriage. It backfires on you; it betrays you. For one thing, it ain’t gonna happen. Not until heaven. You will feel hurt and you’ll look for someone to blame if you hold on to this as your life’s goal. And besides, the vision is too self-centered, too inwardly turned. Like a bad toenail.

It seems strange, but now that Dad and I are caretakers for Grandpa and Grandma, I feel like this is the closest thing to a shared mission we have ever had. It takes both of us to do the work here, we tag team. Dad and I call ourselves Team Koopman, along with Rhonda, Valerie, Cheryl, Robert, Ruth, Jinx and Judy. We have a shared mission, a common goal – to lovingly care for Grandpa and Grandma here in their home.

Is it all smiles and happiness? No. Just last night Dad and I had a spat along with some strong words having to do with the division of labor. After almost 40 years we still do not see eye to eye on many subjects. But one thing I have learned recently is that I need to ask God to show me the plank in my own eye before I try to point out the speck in Dad’s.

Is it all difficult and heartbreaking? No. There is humor when Grandma waters the artificial plant in the Dr. office, and when she carries the large calendar around asking which day it is so she can be sure that we don’t forget to go where we need to go. Yes, there is sadness when I remember how bright and spry Grandpa and Grandma used to be, and see how difficult it is for them now. There is disappointment for Grandpa and me when I have to tell him that I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to fly to California by himself at age 90 to visit friends.

But over all there is still joy. Joy that we have a supportive crew to share in the mission we have here, which I know brings so much pleasure to the heart of God.

Have you ever asked Jesus what mission he has for you?

I encourage you to ask Him to give you a vision, a shared passion for something in the Larger Story of life. He may answer your prayer with a friend in need who needs encouragement, a disruption in life that may change the location or direction of your life, a calling that has always been lingering in your heart but now seems to be something within reach. As Frederick Buechner says:

The place where God calls us is the place where our deep joy and the world’s deep hunger meet.

How awesome would that be to find a shared mission that you both could embark on together? It’s interesting that complaining about the dirty dishes in the sink or replacing the roll of toilet paper doesn’t seem so significant when we are working together fighting to rescue girls from the sex trade, assisting a refugee family as they adapt to a new country, helping to find healing for young child soldiers, trying to encourage a family in the inner city, giving hope to a confused and hopeless teen.

Now you might find that some of your desires and dreams are not shared by your spouse. Each person has a unique role to play; we all have a personal calling. So sometimes it may be a most beautiful expression of companionship when we simply lay down our lives to help with our spouse’s calling.

I think of Dave and Joyce Meyer. Joyce is the focal point with her preaching, but Dave has laid down his life to be the support system for Joyce, preparing the way for her conventions and being her biggest cheerleader. Love is always in season.

Back to the story of The Horse and His Boy. The seemingly random adventure of Shasta and Aravis turned out to be part of a much Larger Story. Their journey together through the desert eventually led them to save Narnia from some fierce invaders intent on destroying the land. Aslan the Lion (a Jesus-like figure) had, of course, guided the whole story from behind the scenes.

Shasta and Aravis continued to have many quarrels but they always made it up so that years later “when they were grown up, they were so used to quarreling and making up again that they got married so as to go on doing it more conveniently.”

God brought both of you together for a beautiful reason. You need each other, and the world needs both of you – together.

Love, Mom

More Waffles and Spaghetti

January 29, 2016 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

So…I have a little more to share about the waffle and spaghetti comparison. In my last post I revealed that guys have little boxes in their heads and it is best for us women to stay in one box at a time and try not to confuse them by expecting them to do mental gymnastics as we so fluidly talk in our spaghetti noodles while they are stuck in their waffle box. Yes, I know it’s a challenge but it is possible.

Well, apparently men have some boxes that are completely wordless. I know it’s hard for you and I to imagine but it is true. Some of their boxes are completely EMPTY of words and thoughts.

I have experienced this before when I have seen Dad sitting and staring. In the past I’ve asked him what he is thinking, and he has said Nothing. I never believed him, suspiciously thinking that he was hiding something he was afraid to talk about. I must say I was quite surprised when I read Bill Ferrell’s words that it is indeed true that men actually have boxes containing no words. I still can hardly comprehend such a phenomenon is possible but I will hopefully, going forward, believe him and let him sit in that box when he needs to. I have spent way too much time in my life wanting him to be like me and talking about many subjects, often jumping from one to another.

Then, of course, there is one box that is the largest of all and right in the center of their waffle. It is the box they prefer to spend lots of time in and I imagine you can guess the subject of that box. Yep, it’s the sex box. It is obvious that the sex box is connected to all the other boxes that surround it, which makes it easy for him to jump into the sex box at any time and from most any subject. It’s not that sex is always on his mind, just most of the time. But to be fair, God hardwired men that way.

All married women know that men typically have much higher sex drives than we do. It has been said that women warm up slowly like a crock pot, men like a microwave. We will be much more interested in sex if we feel emotionally connected, and even then it will take time and patience for us to be ready. There will obviously be no desire if we are frustrated and angry with our man, but a guy is ready at a moment’s notice, night or day.

I remember wasting years wondering why Dad was not more like me in all ways – in verbal communication, in sexual appetite, food choices, humor, – you name it we were opposites. I obviously had never read a book on marriage before I was married, I just assumed that since we were both Christians it would be easy.

Big mistake.

I had no idea that God intended the mystery of marriage to be that of complement, compromise, and counterpart. He meant for marriage to be a lifetime of learning, of forgiving, of adventure. We humans are so complex, we don’t even know ourselves well, so how do we expect to be able to jump into an exclusive relationship with a man, expecting ease?

But now, back to the other boxes. As you remember, each box in a man’s brain contains only one subject. So when they bring up a subject they want to stick with it until they feel like that subject is finished. For men, each box is a problem to be solved so when you open one box there is one problem to solve. When you open the second box, there are two problems. When you open a third, there is a third problem, and it keeps on adding up. When we open up too many boxes so quickly a man often gets overwhelmed and either shuts down or gets angry. He may feel that he just can’t keep up so he will bail out of the conversation completely, walking away or clamming up.

When Dad brings up a subject I often find myself swiftly jumping in and adding my opinion to the idea at hand even though he hasn’t asked for it. Sometimes I may link that opinion with something else that jumps into my mind. Then I wondered why he quit talking. I now know that he probably gives up and goes to find one of those empty boxes to sit in awhile.

I’m not sure why I tend to listen better to people outside my family, definitely something I need to work on. I know I hate listening to talking heads on TV that jump into another’s statement before the end of their sentence, yet at times I do it to my own husband. Lord, help me.

I need to remember I am not Dad’s counselor, I cannot fix him, and maybe I won’t even be able to understand him. But I can accept him just as he is instead of foolishly trying to make him like me. I can listen to him and encourage him to talk, letting him stay in one box for as long as he needs to be there.

It definitely takes discipline for me and I suspect that it may for you too.

Love, Mom

Waffles and Spaghetti

January 14, 2016 / Shari Baar / 2 Comments

Dear Daughters,

Men are like Waffles, Women are like Spaghetti was the title of a book I came upon the other day. Thinking it was a rather odd comparison, I read on….

When you look at a waffle, you see a collection of little boxes each separated by walls. Every box is detached from the other and they all make convenient holding places. Apparently this is typically how a man processes life. Their thinking is divided up into boxes that have enough room for one issue, but only one issue. The first issue of life goes into the first box, the second goes in the second box, and on and on.

A typical man, says Bill Farrell, lives in one box at a time and only one box. When a guy is at work he is at work. When he is in the garage puttering around, he is puttering around. When he is watching TV….well you know the rest of that sentence. That’s why he looks as if he’s in a trance and ignores all else that goes around him. Psychologists call this compartmentalizing – that is putting each part of life into a different compartment.

Because of the waffle structure of their brains, men are problem solvers by nature. They enter a box, look at the problem and formulate a solution. A man strategically organizes his life to spend most of his life in the boxes that he can succeed in. If possible, he will ignore the boxes that confuse him or make him feel like a failure. For example, if a man feels like his career brings him success he spends most of his time at work, at the expense of other priorities. If being home and communicating with his family is difficult he will spend more time in front of the TV. It’s a safe and comfortable box.

When it comes to communicating, men will often talk only if they believe they can reach a desirable outcome. But if they see no point to the conversation quickly, they get frustrated and clam up.

Many men find it easy to develop hobbies that consume their time. If a man finds something that he is good at and makes him feel good about his life, he will pursue it relentlessly. He may get emotionally attached to fixing, building, and maintaining projects. If he is good at gaming, research, computers, or fishing, that will become his focus. He knows what he gets back from these activities is predictable and safe, which can be much more certain than the outcome of a conversation with his wife.

So, basically men spend most of their time doing what they do best while they attempt to ignore the activities which may cause them to feel deficient. It is rather challenging for them to jump from one box to another quickly; they like to stay in a box until that subject is finished, then move on to another box.

The same day I read this interesting phenomenon about men’s brains, I decided to try it out for myself. Dad and I were working on making a Vistaprint family calendar for you girls. We have done this in the past and often ended up frustrated with each other because pictures conjure up all kinds of memories for me, but Dad is focused with the job of choosing the pictures and staying away from that inevitable walk down memory lane.

That night we needed to go through hundreds of pictures, narrowing down to 12 of our favorites. Ordinarily, I would comment on many pictures, talking about the memories that came up. I would say something like, Oh……that picture reminds me of the incredibly strong storm that came up on the lake and it was so fierce that we were out of power for 18 hours and the next day was my birthday so we went out to breakfast and later walked along Lake Michigan and…… This time, however, I decided to stay on the task at hand with no small talk. It was quite amazing how much more smoothly the process went when I let Dad stay in one box and not hop from one to another. The process was smooth and we got the job finished in record time. It was only a little difficult to refrain from bird walking.

In stark contrast to the waffle model of men, women process life more like a plate of spaghetti. Looking at a plate of pasta you notice that there are lots of individual noodles that all touch one another. If you tried to follow one noodle around the plate, you would intersect with many other noodles and who knows, you might even switch to another noodle without knowing it. That’s how women face life. Every thought and issue is connected to every other thought and issue even though it may be only in some remote way. Life is much more of a process for women than it is for men.

This is why women are so much better at multitasking than men. We can cook dinner, nurse the baby, instruct older children to quit fighting and get the table set while planning the next days’ activities. Because all our thoughts, emotions and convictions are connected we can move almost seamlessly from one piece of information to another and keep track of more activities than our husbands.

We consistently love to talk things through as we solve problems, and as we do we connect the logical, relational, emotional and spiritual aspects of the issue. Men, however, prefer to stay in one box at a time. Trying to jump boxes is tiring and confusing for them. Pam Farrel gives the following illustration of how women tend to sum up their day:

Joan gets home and says, “Honey, how was your day? I had a good day today. We just committed to a new educational wing at the university, and I have been asked to oversee the budget. I am so excited that they didn’t rule me out because I am a woman. You know women have been fighting for a place in society for decades, and it is good to see so much progress being made. I think it is neat that you treat the women who work for you with so much respect. Our daughter is so lucky to have you for a dad. Did you remember that Susie has a soccer game tonight? I think it is important we are there because the Johnsons are going to be there and I really want you to meet them. Susie and Bethany are getting to be good friends, and I think we should get to know her parents as well.”

As Joan is talking on and on her husband is getting lost, frantically trying to jump from one box to another in his waffle way of thinking. He simply cannot understand what the budget at the university has to do with Susie’s soccer game and their need to have a new friendship with the Johnsons.

God certainly has a sense of humor when we look at men and women in the light of waffles and spaghetti. Of course He created us this way on purpose so we could complement one another. Life would be quite boring if we were the same, even though at times it sounds like a good idea. But I think He must occasionally be chuckling as He watches us learn about each other and strive to communicate. Frustrations mount and sometimes anger erupts when we just don’t understand our men and they don’t get us, but that’s why we have a lifetime to learn.

So… now that I have read the first chapter of this book, I will have to ponder better how to communicate with my husband. I can see already why it is so important to have women friends and daughters to talk with, then our noodles can overlap in conversation and it’s all good. So thankful you are my friends as well as daughters.

Love, Mom

Major & Minor

January 1, 2016 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

As I am pondering the year that is almost complete, I started recalling all the Major as well as the Minor themes I have experienced during the year. As you know my favorite current author is John Eldredge, from whom I have borrowed the idea of Major and Minor themes.

Of course one of the Major themes of my year is God’s faithfulness and goodness. The sun came up every day, although we couldn’t always see it. One of life’s ultimate comforts is simply knowing that the sun is still shining above the clouds.

God gave strength for everything I needed to do – not all that I wanted to do – but enough for each day. He provided strength to wash both clothes and dishes, make meals, to answer many questions, find things that have been lost, picking hundreds of pounds of delicious garden produce, preserve many of those pounds, capture beauty in my camera, write in my gratitude journal, visit with relatives and friends.

Another major theme is that I have begun to sing again. For months I had only enough strength to do work that needed to be done. But now I am able to have enough energy to both play the piano and sing. It is such a joy to listen to Grandma play piano for a half hour every day, then take my turn to do the same.

Shortly after we moved to Idaho I asked God for a friend. We have many wonderful relatives in the area, but I asked for a friend close by. I was thinking of someone my age so we could have lots in common. Having moved many times in my life I have found that it is difficult to break into a community as a newcomer because many people already have their circle of friends, and circles don’t often easily open.

God surprised me and brought a friend who was also new to the area. Ruth, a young mother, her husband and 2-yearold son Jacob moved from Montana to live across the street from us a few months after we had moved in. Since then we have shared stories of our lives, recipes, laughter, hard as well as joyful times in our families, goods from our gardens, singing and playing piano together, and friendship.

A final Major theme is that of Dad and I learning to serve Grandma and Grandpa together. At the beginning of our time here we were not sure of our specific roles, but as we prayed together for wisdom and walked through each day, we learned how to help but not overstep our boundaries. Yes, there have been misunderstandings, disagreements, and times of forgiveness, but we are becoming comfortable with our roles and have learned to be grateful for one another and the work that is divided between us.

Of course there are the Minor themes that always come along in life as well, whether we invite them or not. One Minor theme is the continued chronic insomnia that I have experienced for the past 15 years. There were some days, after having several 4 and 5 hour nights, that I simply asked God to take me home if He would not grant me the sleep that I so desperately needed. I had sought help from many, but no one had answers. In the midst of the darkness of those days and verbalizing my anguish to Dad, he would simply sit and listen at my bedside as I cried. Because my cries and laments were shared, I was able to go on for yet one more day.

Then I founded someone in our little town who has given me hope once again. I have had many 8 hour nights, and actually can’t remember the last time I slept only 4 hours. Zed has found what we think is the root of the problem and I am slowly getting stronger day by day. Maybe…..soon I will have more endurance and energy.

Dying to self is certainly a Minor theme, but so necessary in our growth as Christ followers. When we moved to Idaho I thought I had died to myself, but God shows me new ways every day as we care for Grandpa and Grandma, how to continually find joy in serving and caring in many small ways, but that enrich all of our lives.

Another Minor theme, mixed with a Major has been talking to you, my daughters, about your dreams, your hopes, your disappointments and your sorrows. All of us have had struggles in our marriages this year. Things will be well for a time, and then just like the proverbial layers of onion, another weakness shows up which needs to be dealt with. The Enemy is always out to find our weaknesses and divide us from our husbands, to see the worst in them – and some days that is not at all difficult.

But throughout the fight for love, God has caused each one of you to grow stronger. Stronger in love, forgiveness, searching hard for beauty, learning to cast your cares and worries on Jesus. I can see your splendor growing and the amazing grace that you have received from God and have graciously given to your families.

I encourage you to look back for the Major and Minor themes in your own lives this year. I think there will be many in each category. Be still and thank God for both themes, knowing that He is walking with you every day. We have prayed for one another and will continue to do so. In that I rejoice.

Love, Mom

I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth. 3 John 4

Joy

December 23, 2015 / Shari Baar / 2 Comments

Dear Daughters,

Last night we hosted a sing-along at our home. We invited people to simply come and join us in sharing some Christmas music. We had local friends, dark-skinned and light, with their guitar and ukulele, a few relatives, our neighbors down the lane – about 20 in all – a good variety of old friends and new. Grandma and I have been practicing for weeks our Christmas songs on the piano. Sometimes Grandma morphs from Go, Tell it On the Mountain into Jesus Loves the Little Children; other times she plays the verse of one song flowing seamlessly into the chorus of another, but most of the time is able to end on the same song she started.

There were no gifts given except that of sharing music together. After we caroled many Christmas songs, Susan and her friends taught us a new song:

Nothing behind, nothing before, the steps of faith,

Fall on the seeming void, and find The Rock beneath.

We listened to our friends sing the song then joined along with them. After that we sang it as a 3-part round. It was beautiful as we all sang our parts, hearing the lovely harmony weaving in and out. Next Susan asked us if we had any stories of our walks of faith that we were willing to share with the group. We heard some stories of people coming to Idaho from New York, New Zealand, Michigan, California, Arizona, the Netherlands – all of us stepping out in faith, going where God had called us to go. All of us had journeyed many miles, sometimes not knowing what lay before us, but simply being obedient to God’s call on our lives.

I knew the stories of many of these people and the suffering they have endured. Yet here we were, singing with joy on our faces and in our hearts, thankful for our Savior Jesus Christ and the Rock he has been in all of our lives.

It’s interesting that the people who have been through hard things in life often seem to be the most joyful. I had heard the quote by Richard Nixon:

Only if you have been in the deepest valley, can you ever know how magnificent it is to be on the highest mountain,

and I have found that it’s true. Of course you have to pin that beast of bitterness and ingratitude to the floor, give thanks and fight for joy, it doesn’t just fall on you. There are those who have suffered and choose to stay in that prison of bondage. But the good news that Jesus brought to us thousands of years ago is that there is freedom – freedom from hurt, abuse, neglect, and broken hearts.

My friend, Marcia, posted the following prayer a while back and I think it’s profoundly beautiful. It’s not your typical prayer of blessing, but a prayer that comes from knowing real blessings can only come through hardship, adversity and the perseverance that results.

I pray this prayer for each of you, my daughters, because I know this is a prayer that God will answer in a most creative way for each of you. I am certain He will answer in His exquisite wisdom and timing.

A Franciscan Benediction

May God bless us with discomfort

At easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships

So that we may live from deep within our hearts.

May God bless us with anger

At injustice, oppression, and exploitation of God’s creations

So that we may work for justice, freedom, and peace.

May God bless us with tears

To shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger, and war,

So that we may reach out our hands to comfort them and

To turn their pain into joy.

And may God bless us with just enough foolishness

To believe that we can make a difference in the world,

So that we can do what others claim cannot be done:

To bring justice and kindness to all our children and all our neighbors who are poor.

Amen.

Even though we will be far from all of you this Christmas, you are closer than ever in my heart, mind and soul. I will miss you and your families greatly, but know that God will bless you now and in the years to come…until we meet again.

Love, Mom

Family Trees

December 10, 2015 / Shari Baar / 2 Comments

Dear Daughters,

As you know, we have relatives of whom we are proud and those we would rather keep hidden. Amazingly, Jesus had the same type of family tree except that he wasn’t ashamed of them. I find it fascinating that before the birth of Jesus is ever mentioned in the book of Matthew, we find a rather lengthy, boring to most, genealogy. God’s history with His people has always been one of openness. There have never been any secrets with Him

In a classic Jewish genealogy women were not included, they were not deemed important enough. Remarkably in Jesus’ there were four women included. Not your good, upright and noble women, but women of shame. He was not consumed with the purity of His pedigree, but in the extreme value of every person on that list. There was Tamar, who disguised herself as a prostitute to trick her father-in-law into sleeping with her as a way of seeking justice from him, Rahab a prostitute from Jericho, Ruth, a foreigner, and Mary with an unplanned pregnancy.

In Jesus’ lifetime a person’s genealogy was similar to our resumes today. It gave a person validation, credentials. As in any resume, we all tend to expand on our best accomplishments and omit our worst failures. The ancients would typically feature ancestors who would hold them in high esteem, but leave out those of whom they were ashamed. Herod the Great, a King of long ago, destroyed his genealogy because he found it too embarrassing. But Jesus included these women in His because in God’s eyes there are no little people, no one who is below the grace of God, no one of whom to be ashamed.

Today I was looking through the homemade book My Life written by your great-grandma Vandermeer. It is a weighty book of genealogy that she spent decades compiling. The cover is thick heavy leather which she personally handcrafted. I still remember all her leather tools in a wooden box, watching her design the intricate artwork.

I must admit that it was both interesting and embarrassing to read a bit of my heritage. In our long ago family there were pioneers who came to the West in wagon trains, a prince, a woman who poisoned her husband at lunch, a poet, alcoholics, a missionary, a Singer Sewing Machine salesman, those who committed suicide – basically the typical menagerie that every family inherits.

The coming of Christ was right through families of messed-up monarchs and battling brothers, through affairs and adultery and more than a feud or two, through skeletons in closets and cheaters at tables. It was in that time of prophets and kings, the time of Mary and Joseph, that men were in genealogies and women were invisible. But for Jesus, women had names and stories and lives that mattered.

~ Ann Voskamp

The family tree of Jesus includes women who felt like outsiders, women who had been hopeless, who felt invisible and forgotten, women who had been close to giving up on life, those who were unappreciated and dismissed. You know of anyone who’s ever felt like that?

I remember when I was 16 and first driving by myself, wondering if cars would see me because I often felt invisible. At times I would be amazed that people would wait for me to make a turn before they drove on. I know that sounds silly, but that was a time in my life that I did not feel important or even visible. I imagine the fact that I was tall, skinny and awkward, plenty of zits, braces and shy had something to do with it.

The centuries seem not to have changed much for women. Today many of us feel the same, our society lauding women more for their bodies and outward beauty than their hearts and those deep desires within.

Last month Christie Hefner was honored by the YWCA with the outstanding leader Trailblazer’s Award. Somehow I found it interesting that she would receive such a prestigious award when most of her life has been promoting the beauty of other women’s naked bodies, seemingly not so concerned with the value of the hopes and dreams of their hearts.

Jesus attracted prostitutes, but not to use them. He saw their longing to be known and loved for who they were, not for what they looked like. He valued them, gave them hope, forgiveness and a restored life.

Tamar and Rahab had both been used by men over many years. Tamar, who had been lied to and tricked by her father-in-law decided to take justice in her own hands and was able to convict him for his wrong. Rahab, living in a godless place with a godless past, believed in the God of the Jews around her and eventually became the Great-grandmother of the great King David.

Other women mentioned in Jesus’ lineage were humble women, those who lived their lives doing the tedious things. In the middle of this boring genealogy we have wonderful stories of God’s grace breaking into shamed women. Ruth, a woman whose husband had died, decided to help out her mother-in-law, who had also lost her husband. She gleaned in the fields of wheat and was noticed by the richest guy in town, who just happened to marry her. She became King David’s grandmother.

Mary, the mother of Jesus was also considered boring by today’s standards, doing the humble things in life that a typical Jewish teenager did – cook meals, wash the laundry, care for younger children, clean house – until the day an angel came to her, saying that she would become the mother of the Messiah. Now this sounds quite exciting until you think of what the village people might have said. “Sure, the Holy Spirit made you pregnant? Really? You think we’re going to believe that, you whore. You know what happens to girls who get pregnant when they’re not married.” Mary was shamed, her life totally disrupted as she was going about her predictable life.

God disrupts our lives as well. We may have a plan, but God’s is usually different – and always better. We all play an important part of a much larger story. Tamar, Ruth, Rahab, and Mary were all outcasts at one time or another, rejected, ridiculed, used, and seemingly forgotten. But God in His amazing mercy brought each of these women into an important part of His Story. He is a specialist at rewarding the humble, raising up the rejected.

Jesus is delighted when each of us does our job faithfully, carefully and humbly. Every repetitive task we perform with gratitude to God is accepted as an offering, an honoring of our Savior. Every diaper we change, each question we answer with kindness, the clients we treat with respect, each meal we prepare, every word of encouragement we speak reflects the love of Jesus.

When we love our husbands, God is pleased. When we forgive and persevere when we would rather leave, God is pleased. He loves faithfulness and will reward it in His time. When we read all the stories of how God loves women, we know that His love for us is the same. Our small stories of humble lives are being worked into His grand story and one day we shall see the whole story and marvel.

Lean on Him. Trust Him.

Love, Mom

The Wonder of Rain

November 23, 2015 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

Last week it rained for 3 days straight…a rarity in Idaho. We live in what is called high desert which translates to about 11 inches of rain per year. During this three-day rainy season we received 1.75 inches and many people were rejoicing because it meant several feet of snow in the surrounding mountains which means more melt in the springtime to fill the reservoirs and aquafers. Can you tell I’m a farmer’s daughter and not a skier?

The gently falling rain brought to mind an article I had read a few years ago by John Piper about an interesting verse in Job:

He performs wonders that cannot be fathomed, miracles that cannot be counted.

He bestows rain on the earth; He sends water upon the countryside. Job 5:9-10

Rain? Really? I had never before considered that rain was a wonder and a miracle.

In the past I had experienced rain, especially when we lived in Michigan, to be too much of a good thing. Because I grew up in the much drier West, it was wonderful not having to water the lawn in the summer time, but rain often hindered planned activities like weddings, open houses, and picnics.

While we lived in Kansas we learned to measure rain not by inches or tenths, but by hundredths. Most people dry farmed there so rain was the only moisture available for the crops and every hundredth was celebrated.

Anyway…have you ever considered rain to be a wonder and a miracle? If not, read on……

Think of how it was in the time of Job in the Middle East. There were no irrigation pipes or pivots, plus the people were far from any lake or stream. If the crops were to grow and the family to be fed, water would have to come from the sky.

So, how does water come out of the clear blue sky? It would have to be carried from the Mediterranean Sea over several hundred miles and be poured onto the field. So how heavy is rain? If one inch of rain falls over one square mile of farmland we are talking 206,300,160 gallons, which equates to 1,650,401,280 pounds of water (that’s over one billion pounds of water.)

Now how does more than 200 million gallons of water get up into the air to be transported? Evaporation – when water quits being water for a while and rises up into clouds so it can come down as rain.

So it goes up, now how does it get down? Condensation happens when the water starts becoming water again by gathering around little dust particles between .00001 and .0001 centimeters wide. That’s really small.

Also, if you remember, the Mediterranean Sea is salt water, which would ruin the crops if it came down as salt rain. So somehow the salt comes out of the evaporated water during that 300 mile journey where it gets dumped on the farm.

Now what would happen if a billion pounds of water just dumped onto the square mile farm? All the wheat would be crushed and ruined. So the rain comes down in tiny droplets. The drops need to be big enough not to evaporate as they fall the mile or so from the clouds, but small enough to keep from crushing the wheat.

Wow.

Now I understood why Job wrote that rain is a wonder and a miracle.

If our amazing God has made such a seemingly ordinary happening as rain to be an amazing miracle, what love and creativity has he visited upon human beings – those He has fearfully and wonderfully fashioned in His image? And if we as human beings are so complex and intricately created, how He must tenderly value marriage, relationships and the keeping of vows between a man and a woman for life?

For several years I have been keeping a gratitude journal (thank you Ann Voskamp) but in the past few months I have neglected it. As Thanksgiving season is coming around and I pondered the wonder of rain, I pulled the journal out again to keep on recording those everyday miracles that happen every minute of the day.

The howling wind outside the window

The dazzling starry night as I take my walk down the darkened lane

The aroma of dehydrating tomatoes

The delight of chatting with my neighbor Ruth, and her precious son, Jacob

Visitors for afternoon tea

The playful antics of our kitten

Sweet, sweet sleep

A sliver of a moon

Jacob bringing me flowers from his garden

Piano students, even when they haven’t practiced

The indescribable longsuffering of Jesus

A beautiful rose

Freshly mown hay

I have learned that if I don’t give thanks for the little things in my life, I will criticize.

If I don’t focus on what God has given, I will ponder upon what He has not given.

If I don’t go out every day and take a walk, searching for the beauty and wonder around me, I will find my husband deficient, and my stay at home job mundane.

Jim Elliot (the missionary who was killed in Ecuador in 1956 at age 28) wrote with such wisdom:

A wife, if she is very generous, may allow that her husband lives up to perhaps eighty percent of her expectations. There is always the other twenty percent that she would like to change, and she may chip away at it for the whole of their married life without reducing it by very much. She may, on the other hand, simply decide to enjoy the eighty percent, and both of them will be happy. Accept positively and actively, what is given. Let thanksgiving be the habit of your life.

I encourage you, my daughters, to keep on giving thanks for the little things, the minute everyday gifts in your life. Lift your eyes to the beauty all around you, and consider the goodness of the Lord Jesus Christ and His immense compassion and artistry. Give thanks, even in the hard to give thanks times, trusting that He will work out all things for your benefit.

Love, Mom

Pruning

November 10, 2015 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

When Dad and I arrived in Idaho last November, Grandpa’s garden plot was empty, the rose bushes covered with burlap bags. All the trees, raspberry, blackberry and grape vines were pruned and looked like nothing but dead stumps.

The garden reflected my heart. Our third move in six years, I was weary, weak, lonely and sad. We had just said good-bye to all of you a few weeks earlier, tears shed, gifts given, farewells still echoing in my mind. It was not my choice to leave Michigan, which had been home for more than 20 years, but we are not always given a choice in life.

I felt like a burned up, chopped off stump.

During those two decades in Michigan, God’s hand had led us from place to place, and at each home we had made friends, discovering more and more the wonder of people and the grace of God.

I had given thanks, often with tears, simply because I know that Jesus is honored by gratitude – especially when it seems there is little to be grateful for. As Saint John of Avila wrote over 500 years ago:

One act of thanksgiving , when things go wrong with us,

is worth a thousand thanks when things are agreeable to our inclinations.

So I reluctantly gave thanks as we drove the 1600 miles west, not feeling especially thankful, but simply as an exercise in trust. Trusting that God had not made an error and now this was Plan B, but knowing that Idaho is where he wanted us for the next chapter of our lives, we had accepted the invitation to come and care for Grandpa and Grandma as their bodies and minds were becoming frail.

Spring finally came to the garden, green shoots pushing up through the dark soil. Tulips appeared, leaves started growing on the trailing grapevines, life came to this previously desolate, barren garden. As Dad and I slowly learned our roles in caretaking, I started coming to life as well. During these past 12 months of living in Idaho I have found joy in serving – no, not every minute of the day – but there is a quiet peace of knowing that I am in the center of God’s will.

Jesus gave his disciples a lesson in pruning the night before he was killed. He said that we are all going to be pruned. The reason for the pruning is that he wants us to bear more fruit, just like a gardener wants the most fruit possible from his trees and vines.

The only way a gardener can get lots of good fruit is to prune his garden. Pruning seems heartless, uncaring, even brutal when you watch him lop off all those beautiful branches and vines. But it’s really the most loving, compassionate act he can do for his plants.

As Jesus told his disciples in John 15:

I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.

Basically you will be pruned if you are not bearing fruit and you’ll be pruned if you are bearing fruit. So, I guess we should simply expect to be pruned. It hurts, it is not pleasant at the time, and it’s certainly not something that we ever ask for. But the results of pruning are so beautiful – lots and lots of scrumptious, delicious fruit.

And what is this fruit He talks about? It’s the fruit of the Holy Spirit that is spoken of in Galatians: Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

I know that I need to mature in each of those character traits, and of course the only way we can grow is by being pruned – going through difficult times. It certainly doesn’t happen when everything is going our way.

Right now you may be looking at the fence line of your life, feeling branches being hacked off, battered by circumstances in your life, feeling anger toward God for what is happening. Maybe your husband isn’t doing what you would like him to do (or not to do). Your job may be frustrating and constricting to you. Perhaps your body isn’t working as well as you’d like. Friends may have abandoned you when you needed them the most. Your children are not always loving and respectful to you.

I know I’ve said it many times before, but God truly loves you and is tending your life, leading you into the path He wants you to go. He is the Master Gardener, the true lover of your heart and his goal is to make you beautiful.

Last week Dad and I were at Mesa Falls, an hour south of Yellowstone Park. It is a magnificent waterfall, carved into the lava over thousands of years, and now simply breathtaking to observe. Near the scenic viewing area stands a brief history of the falls along with this quote:

The beauty of Mesa Falls was born of a tumultuous past.

When I read that statement I thought, That’s how people become beautiful as well. We, as well as the splendor in God’s creation, only become beautiful when we have had a difficult past and have come through it, stronger, braver, more compassionate and loving. If we trust Jesus during the pruning times in our lives, knowing He is the Master Gardener, we can learn to be grateful and patiently wait for His good work to be done in us.

When you are in a dark winter place, it seems sometimes as though you are forgotten, unloved and overlooked; but it simply isn’t true. Keep on persevering in your marriage, your friendships, and your children, and you will bear fruit – lots of good fruit.

I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. – Jesus

Love, Mom

Branches and Trees

Page 15 of 20

Throwing Pottery

The Extra Puzzle Piece

A Shared Adventure

More Waffles and Spaghetti

Waffles and Spaghetti

Major & Minor

Joy

A Franciscan Benediction

Family Trees

The Wonder of Rain

Pruning

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