Piper: Why Does God Hide Truth from Believers?

I happened upon this video the other night. It's only a few minutes long, so not toooooo difficult to squeeze in a squiz, and you get to actually see Piper! I'm much more familiar with his voice than his face.

I'm not sure I agree with everything he says (the gospel's pretty simple!), but I thought his last point (overall vibe of what you can understand) was particularly interesting given my questions. Perhaps he wouldn't give the same advice to a Christian?

What do you think of his answer?

A Woman’s Place: An Introduction (Part One)

I should start by saying that I hate the phrase ‘a woman’s place’. I’m not sure what it is that I find so grating about those three words, but hearing them always gets me ready to be offended. It may not be the best way to start this topic, but I’m really bad at thinking of titles and this one kept coming back to me.

If there are people out there who can say, “My grandparents are Catholic, my parents and their siblings are Catholic, therefore I’m Catholic”, I say: my grandparents are Brethren, my aunty’s Pentecostal and my mum’s Anglican, therefore I’m confused. Looking at the way people in my family ‘do’ church and the things they believe raises questions for me. Looking at the way people around the world ‘do’ church and the things they believe raises questions for me. Reading the Bible raises questions for me.

Some questions I’m happy to let lie because I don’t feel like the answers will have too much impact on my life or faith (Was the world literally created in 6 days? Were Adam and Eve actual people?). Some I care enough about to argue over, but not enough to ruin my day (I don’t think the Bible tells me to baptise my baby, but if you feel led to baptise yours, fine [but seriously?]). And then there are the huge questions that I’ll fight over with everything I am until either you agree with me or I start crying, whichever comes first.

My questions about what the Bible says about women in the church and home, and how people interpret what the Bible says about women in the church and home, fall into the latter category.

Why is it that my grandmother has to wear a hat and remain silent in her church while my aunt could preach at hers if she felt led to? Why is it that in some churches women are allowed to write a Bible study but not to lead it, and in other churches women are allowed to lead Bible studies but not to preach? Why is it that in most (all?) churches singing songs written by women is ok? Couldn’t that be counted as teaching? What’s submission in marriage supposed to look like, and why is it always taught as a one-sided thing when Ephesians 5:21 clearly applies it to everyone?

At what age does a boy become a man, and should therefore not be taught by a woman according to 1 Timothy 2:12? Why is it that in some churches and youth groups the age is 16, and in others it’s 18? Who draws the lines? As the mother of a boy, does this mean there’ll be a day when my son is no longer allowed, according to the Bible, to be taught by me? Or does my role as his mother trump Paul’s prohibition?

Aren’t we all worshiping the same God? Aren’t we all referring to the same Book and the same Spirit for guidance?

Does this freak anyone else out?!

And then there are the scarier, more difficult questions: Who am I? For what purpose did God create me? What does Paul mean when he says that I was created “for man” (1 Corinthians 11:9)? Am I here just to serve my husband and to have his babies? Does God really love me for me? Despite or because of my female-ness? Why did He allow the Bible to be so lacking in female voices? And if He knows all things, does that mean He just didn’t care that these questions would be so big and painful for so many women today?

It’s my prayer that, with God’s help, I find satisfying answers to at least some of these questions. Or... (argh, I can hardly write it) that I'll be satisfied with not knowing, or with answers I don't really like. But please, God, let it be the first one!

The photo is from here.

Love Letter

Dear Unbroken Sleep,

I love you. I'm sorry I never realised how much until now, and that I've not appreciated you for all these years.

If you come back I promise never to take you for granted again. Please come back.

I really miss you.

B.

The photo's from here.

The Umbrella

I hate to lower the tone of this blog, particularly so early on in its life, but...

I’m going to talk briefly about poo.

There’s a reason for it, so stick with me. Unlike another blog I saw, I will not fill you in on the whoa-I-really-did-not-need-to-know-that details of my son’s toilet habits (I must confess that I spent at least 20 minutes reading that blog, and actually ended up cheering the little guy's progress: “No wee accidents for a whole week! Go Young Jimmy!!” [Okay so I made up the name, but I promise you the rest is true - the blog is out there.] {What do you do when you run out of different bracket markers?})

Back to my boy. Now that (non-milk) food’s been added to his diet, his number twos are becoming increasingly solid, as one might expect. It’s just that this is very new for him, and it takes him some effort to get them out.

With his grunting, groaning, crying and occasional vomiting, my son while pooing is not unlike a woman giving birth, and after a few days of offering my support (standing’s the easiest position, it seems), massages and encouraging words, I now feel qualified to add ‘midwife’ to the growing list of occupations that seem to fall under the ‘being a mother’ umbrella.

Along with the obvious ones (nurse, photographer/documentarian, cleaner, weightlifter, dairy cow), there’s:

Teacher: Power cords are not for eating. Mobile phones are not for eating. Paper is not for eating. Plants are not for eating.

Dietician: Now for something proteiny to go with your vegetable mush.

Engineer: Look at Mummy’s amazingly tall tower!

Stylist: Did Daddy put those socks on you? I’m going to change them because they do NOT go with that top.

Interpreter: He’s grizzling because he’s tired, it’s nap time.

Speech pathologist: Hurray, ‘dada’! Now can you say ‘mama’? Mamamamamamama. Mamamama.

Commentator: I’m just going to my room to grab my glasses, I’m being super quick so you don’t freak out, I’m just grabbing my glasses, buddy, here they are, I’m coming back, I’m back!

Lifeguard: NO STANDING IN THE BATH.

Beautician: Only nine more nails to cut... Sit still, mister, so I don’t accidentally stab you with these teensy scissors. Sit still sit still sit still sit still sit still sit still– yay! Only eight more nails to cut.

Entertainer: ‘GaaaaaaaLUMPH went the little green frog one day...’

Salesperson: C'mon, one more mouthful! It's yummy! It's good for you!

Security guard: Sorry, little man, but this area is strictly off-limits.

Mathematician: If it’s 19 degrees outside and I’ve set the heater thermostat at 2.5, how many blankets will he need tonight?

And there’ll be more to add as he grows older (taxi driver and hairdresser are just two that spring to mind).

A couple of thoughts:

1. Wouldn’t it be cool if maternity leave and parenting payments more accurately reflected the enormity of the mothering job? Something closer to the maximum wage rather than the minimum.

2. Aren't these all good reasons why Mother's Day cheapens the hard work mums do? If any one of the employees listed above was paid something small and token just once every year, I'm pretty sure they'd find somewhere else to work. Mums should get cards and "you're awesome!"s and "thank you!"s and flowers and diamonds (mums love diamonds, according to the marketing folk) all through the year - at least once fortnightly, if that's the average rate for salary payments. Or, if the work really can only be acknowledged on one day per year, a more appropriate present would be a trip around the world, or a holiday on a Queensland island, or a camera, or a house.

Just saying.

P.S. The same applies to fathers, it's just that I'm not one.

P.P.S. The photo's from here.

The Beginning of the End

This is Harold Camping. He’s pretty sure that Jesus is coming back tomorrow. There’s a countdown on his website; only 13 hours and 5 minutes to go!

I’ve written at least two ranty posts in my head since I first saw the billboard (“Judgement Day, May 21^st 2011! The Bible guarantees it!”). But the passing of time has diffused my initial passion and I’m no longer feeling so annoyed and disappointed by it. Yes, it’s annoying that he makes Bible-believing Christians seem foolish and loopy. Yes, it’s disappointing that this is a perfect example of people disagreeing about what the Bible really teaches. But, if nothing else, it's good to be reminded that judgement will come one day. And it could be tomorrow!

I do wonder what Harold and his followers will do with themselves on Sunday morning, though. Maybe a more interesting question: what are they doing with themselves right now?!

But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Be on guard! Be alert! You do not know when that time will come. It’s like a man going away: He leaves his house and puts his servants in charge, each with their assigned task, and tells the one at the door to keep watch.

Therefore keep watch because you do not know when the owner of the house will come back—whether in the evening, or at midnight, or when the rooster crows, or at dawn. If he comes suddenly, do not let him find you sleeping. What I say to you, I say to everyone: ‘Watch!’ - Mark 13:32-37

The original photo is from here.

How Long, O Lord?

Despite my best intentions and early enthusiasm, I have started none of the books I planned to read for this blog. I have, however, spent faaaaar too much time perusing baby books this week thanks to a certain little boy who for the past few months has been waking multiple times each night, purely (it seems) for the joy of having a crumpled parent arrive by his cot-side to say “shhhhhhh” and perhaps even stroke his head once or twice.

In the lead up to my wedding day I voraciously read any marriage book I could get my hands on in the hope that the more information I inhaled, the better a wife I’d make and the more likely our marriage would be to succeed. I’m not sure how much I actually took in – it’s hard to relate to instruction about a situation you’ve never been in (“Why would I ever find that irritating in my spouse??”) – but the authors all seemed to agree that marriage was hard work, and I felt somewhat better prepared for married life than I would have felt jumping in study-free.

I didn’t feel the need to study quite as hard before going into labour; having witnessed a few happy and healthy births, I approached the due date feeling mostly positive about the experience I’d soon be... experiencing. (Getting married was much scarier; I didn’t know what a happy and healthy marriage looked like). I still read a few books and tried to remember as many tips as I could about pressure points and positions, all the while knowing they’d probably leave my mind at the first pangs of labour.

So far so good: Marriage chugging along nicely, baby safely delivered – yay for books! Now to researching what to actually do with my small sprout in order to be the best mother possible!

OK, so I should put him on a routine...no, wait – routines aren’t good for babies under 3 months... no worries, will hold off on that. And I feed him on demand to build up my milk supply? Done. I think I like you, Expert #1! So should I feed from both sides, or just the- sorry, Expert #2? Oh, just feed him every three hours? And express too. Right... And if he's not on your schedule he won’t be sleeping through the night in 17 months’ time? Leave him to cry for how long?? Have you actually had a child, Expert #2? Next book... 

And on it goes. NO ONE seems to agree on exactly how one goes about bringing up baby in his first year of life. And I haven’t even started trying to figure out what to do with a toddler - GAH! If there’s anything more frustrating than having 7 different “experts” tell you 7 conflicting ways to have the perfect baby and feel “calm and confident”, then I’m not sure what it is. (Actually, it’s when people say, “Guess who I saw at the shops the other day!” and then actually expect you to guess.)

So I’ve decided to trust the mothering instincts God has given me, and to stop reading baby books looking for a magic nugget of advice that will forever solve all of our sleep problems. And just to get sleep when I can and keep praying that this crazy phase will end sometime really soon.

I, obsessive researcher and paranoid mum, do solemnly swear that I will not read another book about how to get my baby to sleep better (except for maybe ‘The No Cry Sleep Solution’ by Elizabeth Pantley, I’ve heard that one’s really good).

I’ll start reading the blog books instead. Sometime really soon. After a nap.

The First Post

I've never been around for the birth of a blog; is it customary to spend the first post justifying the decision to start one? I could ramble for paragraphs explaining the lead-up to this very moment – my first ever blog post! – but I’ll leave it at this: I have a squillion questions I’m looking for answers to. Questions like:

What does God think of women? How do you make bread, and is it worth the effort? What makes a marriage work? Is swearing wrong for a Christian? Does God love my husband more than He loves me? Why does the Bible make me feel that way sometimes? Do I really want to buy a house one day, and why? How many leg waxes will it take before the hairs just don’t grow back? Should I re-read the Twilight series or will that spoil it for me? Am I actually an introvert or did I just take the test at the wrong moment in my life? Why is it that some friendships die but others last a lifetime? Why do I feel so guilty deleting Oxford commas from my writing? Do I need to be consistent in my removal of them, or can I make judgements sentence-to-sentence? Why are there so many people who claim to know exactly what the Bible’s saying, but who interpret it in a completely different way to another stack of people who also claim to know exactly what the Bible’s saying? Will I ever again know what it feels like to sleep for longer than 3 hours at a time? And what if the Hokey Pokey really is what it’s all about?

I’m hoping this will be a good forum for all the pondering.