Link dump of some cool, interesting, encouraging, and/or insightful things I came across this week.
Why I Think You Should (Sometimes) Ignore Your Children by Esther Emery at A Deeper Story
The noise and chaos level in my house drives me crazy. I’m not just introverted. I’m hyper-introverted. I’m not just introspective. I’m hyper-introspective. I need time and space to think. I’ve often wondered if I missed my calling as a hermit. It’s difficult balancing the needs of a family with my own need for solitude.
I am not the one to tell you how this happened, but collectively we have framed a mother’s desire for contemplative time as something selfish. It’s right here in our language. We take our alone time. We take time for ourselves. I believe strongly that this deserves reframing. Maintaining a contemplative practice is not a selfish act.
31 Signs You Might Be a Pastor’s Kid. by Barnabas Piper (Guest post at Stuff Christians Like)
I’m a PK and thought this was a cute list. Oh, if only I were the blackmailing type…
. . . you involuntarily volunteered for all church functions.
. . . You could blackmail half the church.
What If Hitler Invaded Your House? by Brian Zahnd
<3 <3 <3 (See, I love this post so much that I’ve reverted to a 13-year-old.) I’ve lost track of how many times someone has asked me what I’d do if an intruder was threatening my children (as though it’s somehow not weird to randomly talk about my children being murdered as a thought exercise.)
In every interview I’ve been asked this question: “What would you do if Hitler invaded your house?” Well, it’s not exactly that question, but in every interview these two questions have come up: What about Hitler? What would you do if someone invaded your home? Hitler and home invasion. These are the two arguments that allegedly make the Jesus way of peace impossible.
Adopted by Rev. Melissa Fain at Fig Tree Christian
I’m in love with the phrase “wounded healer”. I think it’s important for those of us who have been wounded to tell our stories—not so that we can shame the people we feel wronged us, but to let other people who have also been wounded know they are not alone.
I was a beloved child of God, accepted into the family through divine adoption. My potential is the potential God gives me, filled with possibility. I discovered, because of this path, I showed compassion over anger. Showing compassion over anger actually brought me closer to the physical world. I can, with the help of God, accept my call as a wounded healer.
Go Ahead, Say the Wrong Thing by Rachel Marie Stone, Megan Hill, and Gina Dalfonzo at Christianity Today
Sigh. Sigh. Yes, that would be egg on my face. I pick apart other people’s language sometimes instead of looking for the message underneath it. I passionately attack Christianese. Funnily enough (though it really isn’t funny at all), I also tend to unintentionally offend people…like, a lot with the words and phrases I choose. We could all stand to be more charitable and truly listen to the message someone is trying to convey.
When we create lists of things never to say or publicly rebuke people over what amount to trifling missteps in their language, do we not often do [so] out of a sense of pride: that we, not they, know the right words; that we, not they, are righteous in our indignation, even if their intentions were innocuous?