Stasi's Blog
January 2010
I’m caught in the tension between love and war, between life and death. John and I just returned from spending four restful days together, unplugged from the demands of our world, replenishing our hearts in the beauty and love of God and the delightful companionship of each other. It was good. It was very good. We drove to our destination and once very close, we passed a horrible accident on the other side of the road. People had been killed. Bodies were being draped with whatever motorists could find to cover their dignity. One woman crouched next to an accident victim and held their lifeless hand. Walking home from a lovely dinner one evening, we passed a window where a woman’s anguished sobs could clearly be heard. Before we passed, the sorrow turned to rage and the sound of something breakable crashing was loud. We could easily picture the scene as we stopped to listen and to pray. Did we need to intervene? While away, an earthquake struck Haiti. You know about this. Once home, we learned the good news that a friend’s pursuit of a woman long prayed for had gone well! Then that the next day this same friend learned his brother had a brain aneurysm. I am rejoicing now over the news that a woman’s husband who works for Compassion has been rescued alive and well from an elevator shaft in the collapsed hotel M in Haiti. I wept at the news. And I am waiting for news of another. Waiting. Praying. Five days ago I passed four bodies being covered by white sheets and it shook me to the core. Today I see images from Haiti and hear incomprehensable numbers of 50,000 dead and I am stunned beyond knowing. Love and War is more than the title of a book on marriage. It describes the life we find ourselves living. The battle is one of Life and Death. Physically. Spiritually. We are surrounded by it. We must be changed by it. Engage with it. I am entering into this new year soberly. Walk with me Jesus. Walk with us. Live your LIFE through us and bring yourself to our aching fellow human beings near and far. How we need you.
Stasi Eldredge
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
The Nativity – John Donne Immensity cloistered in thy dear womb, Now leaves his well-beloved imprisonment, There he hath made himself to his intent Weak enough, now into our world to come; But oh, for thee, for him, that th’inn no room? Yet lay him in this stall, and from the Orient, Stars, and wisemen will travel to prevent Th’effect of Herod’s jealous general doom. Seest thou, my soul, with thy faith’s eyes, how he Which fills all place, yet none holds him doth lie? Was not his pity towards thee wondrous high That would have need to be pitied by thee? Kiss him, and with him into Egypt go, With his kind mother, who partakes thy woe. The above is one stanza of John Donne’s longer poem detailing the mysterious glory of our faith. I love it. I wanted to share it with you and one more reading that has captured me this Advent. This one is from “Watch for the Light” a book of readings for Advent and Christmas. “Perfect love, the apostle John writes, casts out fear. So when God’s angel broke the good news of the Savior’s birth to the cowering shepherds of Bethlehem, “Fear not” was more than in instruction for them to get up off the ground and stop shielding their frightened faces. It was a declaration of war on fear. “ – Johann Christoph Arnold Wow. It is Christmas Eve eve. The world, my world is settling down in a quietness of still expectancy. Settling down but not stopping. There is no cease fire from pain into the lives of those around us, next to us. Not for the world, not for those we love and not for us. And yet, it is exactly into this life, this pain, this glory, this mess that Jesus came with his holy interruption and interrupts us still. There is hope. Pain and sorrow and grief are not the truest thing. There is hope. There is life. There is JESUS! Jesus did come. He is coming again. He will come for us today. He is our hope. He is our Love. He is perfect. And perfect love casts out all fear. I want to wish you a Merry Christmas and everything good and holy and hope filled and hope fulfilled that that means! Jesus has you and is very near. Fear not. And cheers. And halleluiah! And let Heaven and Nature Sing! Hoorah!
Stasi Eldredge
DECEMBER 15TH!!!
About ten years ago or so, I told God that I would offer anything from my life story to others that he asked me to if it would help them know him better, experience more hope and healing, love Jesus more. Really, it was simply a deeper surrender to the One I belong to. And God has asked me to share. And sometimes, it has been really, really hard. But I have been blessed to see LIFE come out of it. God asked John and I to write a book on marriage and share our journey and what we have learned. So we did. It’s the most honest, vulnerable thing either of us have written and our earnest prayer is that God uses it in people’s lives for his amazing, beautiful purposes. We’re actually pretty confident that he will. J That said, I can only say, “Yikes!” and “You go GOD!”. Tuesday, December 15th is the launch date for Love & War! To kick things off, John and I are doing this live webcast interview chat thing that anyone who has access to internet can watch online! Oh, please join us! We’ll just be talking. Sharing. Taking questions. It’ll help calm me down to know that we are talking with you! We are actually pretty excited about this! God cares so deeply about our marriages! There is so much hope; for all of us! So below is the link to the webcast deal. It’s at 7pm MST. Come on by! And oh, Jesus, be glorified in all we say and do! http://livestream.com/WaterBrookMultnomah
Stasi Eldredge
WAITING
I like Advent; the waiting for Christ to come. I like the anticipation of Christmas. Maybe it’s partly because a woman figures so prominently in the Story. Mary. I like Mary. Oh, I want to be like Mary! Such abandoned faith. She says yes to God, come what may. “Be it unto me…”. And then she waits. And God, who is so perfectly faithful, comes. The Holy Spirit comes upon her and she receives a deposit of God himself and Jesus grows inside her womb until it is time for her to give birth to him and present him to the world. Such a magnificent offering and she is just a human being. She is a woman just like us! And just like her, we too have been given a deposit of the Holy Spirit. God himself is inside of us! And the world waits for what it is we will give birth to and offer. Jesus himself – growing inside of us. We carry him! And we wait. Wait for him. Wait for more. Wait with wonder and anticipation and agony. And like Mary, we are enlarged in the waiting. Our souls are enlarged. Tomorrow, our son Sam is flying in, flying home, from his semester in Europe. Tears fill my eyes just as I write that sentence. I can’t sleep. I have been lying awake in bed imagining him coming around the corner and seeing John and I underneath the “Welcome Home” signs I have made for him. My heart is bursting with anticipation. Coming home. Going home. A long awaited reunion. Is this what Jesus is feeling like right now? Anticipating his long awaited return? My thoughts turn to him and I can not wait to see HIM. To greet him! To fall into his arms or at his feet and weep with joy and the release of finally being with him, my true Home. My heart is being enlarged. As I wait. As I long. Is his heart being enlarged too? Could that even be possible? Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. I will hold my son and kiss his cheek. And it will be a foretaste of a homecoming that will be sweeter still. Sweet beyond words. I can hardly wait!
Stasi Eldredge
ADVENT
This year seems to be on a bobsled race. It is rushing past me at an ever increasing speed such that I can barely see what is passing. It is Christmastime already. Today is the first Sunday of Advent. A young woman behind the coffee counter said to me this week that she is not looking forward to the time in her life when the holidays mean work, not joy. Something in my earlier overwhelmed response to her had cued her in to my state of mind. I want the holidays to mean joy too! But honestly, my spirit was not excited about the season we are entering into but rather dreading it. Selecting, purchasing, wrapping, mailing thoughtful, meaningful presents on a limited budget. Decorating, baking, creating a warm holiday atmosphere…Christmas cards, letters, notes, stocking stuffers…creating space for my family to rest, catch their spiritual breath and look to Jesus… Sadly, it doesn’t sound fun to me. It sounds like work; a job that I don’t currently feel up to. With my heart discouraged, I went and worshiped God and then poured out my heart to Him. Here’s what I wrote in my journal. “Lord, it is a lot of work and I get stressed. Now we are entering Advent and Christmas. And I feel such pressure. To make it lovely, holy, meaningful, traditional, warm, safe, cozy, smell good, relaxed, happy, festive, pretty – and try to stay centered on You. It’s kind of hard for me. Simplify. How? All of it. All of it. (This was followed by a time of simply worshiping Him, fixing the gaze of my heart on His beauty….then…) I love You, God. Thank You for your faithfulness to me and mine. I need You. You’re lovely, holy, meaningful, warm, safe…You are everything good and wonderful and enticing and longed for about Christmas. You are who and what we want and are trying to capture. I want You. You are my Christmas.” Big breath. Thank you Jesus. So last night, we decorated our Christmas tree. It’s a fun thing to do and yes, a lot of work. But somehow last night, it wasn’t work at all. We had the Christmas carols playing on the stereo and laughed and chatted easily as we hung our mostly precious and sometimes silly ornaments on the tree. We were unhurried yet finished in record time and none of us was exhausted from it. Once done, we turned off all the lights and sat together on the sofa enjoying the beauty of the tree. Spontaneously, we began to sing along with the carols. We were accompanied by Amy Grant, Nat King Cole, Josh Groban. We ended with our hands lifted in worship. Oh Praise Him! When the songs went silent, we stayed silent as well and then began to ruminate about Jesus. “Can you imagine what a great singing voice Jesus has?!”. “Wouldn’t it be great if Jesus returned on Christmas?!”. “At the wedding feast, what do you think the table will be made of?”. Holy moments. Not stress filled. Just given to us from our extravagant Father who is the giver of every good gift. “You open your hand and satisfy the desires of every living thing.” Psalm 145:10 Simplify. Invite the one who came. Who is coming again. Who is always coming to us. Oh yes, Jesus. Come again today. We love you.
Stasi Eldredge
Bedtime Rituals
When our sons were young and it was time to get ready for bed, we would announce, “Time for jammies and teeth!” They used to wear John’s old T-shirts as jammies. They were soft and comfortable and fell to their knees or lower. Now, all three sons have outgrown my husband’s tees. For some reason, they liked to brush their teeth in our bathroom, not theirs. So our sink was surrounded not only by our various accoutrements, but their three boyish toothbrushes and toothpaste as well. John’s a TOM’S man…something one son has inherited but at the time their toothpaste sparkled and had various super heroes on the cover. We wondered why they wouldn’t use their own sink…but understood that this was a sweet season that would pass all too quickly. We enjoyed the chaos. Once tucked in bed, we would bless them. Every single night. And they would bless us right back. “The LORD bless you and keep you. The LORD make his face to shine upon you And give you peace.” Samuel initiated making the sign of the cross on the forehead at the beginning of the blessing and more than a decade later, the little ritual has stuck. Often times, after blessing, one or more of our boys would ask to “snuggle”. This was the crucial moment. We would be exhausted. Done. Finished. Ready for bed ourselves. They would be ready to talk…share about their day, experiences, thoughts. Precious moments. Golden moments. “Sure honey, we can snuggle” (pronounced schnuggle). Sometimes, I would sing the blessing to them instead of speak it. Sometimes I would make up lullabies and sing those to them as well. The other night, I was talking with our oldest son over the phone – he’s on a Europe semester traveling all over the continent, experiencing so much but so far away. As we were saying our goodbyes, I said, wait, “The LORD bless you and keep you. The LORD make his face to shine upon you And give you peace.” I could feel his smile. I am so happy at the moment. My mother’s heart so full. Our youngest, Luke, 16 years old, after blessing him tonight, began to sing the blessing to me. I finished it up and then snuggled next to him and continued singing and humming to him– remembering the old lullabies from years past. He remembered. He loved it. I loved it. Oh. It all matters!
Stasi Eldredge
JESUS IN YOGURTLAND
We just returned home from visiting our middle son Blaine at college. It was such a good visit! Oh, to kiss the cheek of my son! Blaine had told us about a place called Yogurtland that he really liked and thought I’d really like. OK. Really love. He was right! It is a frozen yogurt paradise! We went three times in two days. I have officially had my frozen yogurt fix for quite some time. So the first time we go, we brought three of Blaine’s new friends with us and as is my custom, I head first to the bathroom which is hiding at the way back of the store. The men’s room had a sign on it saying it’s broken and I run into one of my son’s friends waiting to use the facilities looking longingly at the women’s restroom door. I open the women’s bathroom to test the all clear and open it on a man with his back to me, doing what he needed to. Quickly I close the door and tell his friend what happened. He finds this very funny and we both crack up. Then he says, “Here, let me stand in front of you and he’ll think it was me.” He was so quick to say that – so considerate. I thanked him. Then the guy comes out. Turns out he is really, really drunk. He challenges the young man to make sure he was next in line. I assure him he was and wait. The man begins to talk to me incoherently in a really loud voice, unsteady on his feet and I am not quite sure what to do. I know that feeling well. How to love here? What to do? Jesus? Then it’s my turn to use the facilities. When I come out, my young friend has gotten the inebriated guy a frozen yogurt sample. He is loving it. He wants some more. He is getting louder. He becomes more and more animated. He starts going up to nearby tables and offering customers unintelligable pearls of wisdom and shots of vodka. I go look to see if there is a manager to help out here before a scene erupts and the guy ends up in jail. When I walk back to where we were, I see something I hope to not forget. My son’s friend, 18 years old, is holding two large samples of frozen yogurt in each hand luring the man out of the restaurant and out of trouble. In his eyes, I see the kindness of Jesus and the longing to do well by the man in an uncomfortable and tenuous situation. He leads the guy out like the Pied Piper. I didn’t know what to do but he did. He loved him.
Stasi Eldredge
What I Like and What I Don't
My friend Julie introduced me to sprinkling cinammon on top of the coffee grounds before making the coffee. When the coffee maker has worked its magic, I add a little cream and voila. Happiness ina cup! I am now ready for my day! I enjoy beginning my morning with a really good cup of coffee. I also like slippers. Soft, cushy, fluffy, preferably pink slippers. Unfortunately, so does my dog. That I don’t like so much. I love cool mornings and sunny days and light breezes. I love the change of seasons and the memories they evoke of what has been and of what is coming. Now Autumn, I love the quickly changing colors of the aspens and the scrub oak. Green this morning, golden tonight. Tomorrow, blown off their branches by the increasing wind. That, I don’t like so much. But okay, bare branches against the sky possess their own unique beauty. And in the frost of Winter, when they are laced with ice, they will glisten with a shimmering artistry. I like that. I do. It’s slipping on the ice that I don’t like so much. Two sides to a coin. I like more than I don’t. There is a beauty to every season of the year as with every season of my life. Today, the flickering of the leaves in the wind and the rushing waterfall sound they make, remind me that though I can’t hold on to the moment as I would like, God is in it. And he is in the next one too. I like that very much.
Stasi Eldredge
A Canoe Trip
The snow is melting but it’s still freezing cold outside and I find myself dreaming of summer; the one to come and then the one that just ended…One of the highlights of this past summer was a camping trip our family took to the Tetons. Oh the beauty! Sharp, dangerous, glorious beauty. I close my eyes and I can see the mountains rising up across the lake. Pure grandeur. One favorite day, the five of us went down the Snake River in our canoes and a rented kayak. A storm came up suddenly and we took refuge along the bank under a huge pine tree that sheltered us from the pelting rain. No other prints were along the bank but ours and a big bears'! Later, back on the river, we passed a young man alone in a canoe. He was struggling. It was a windy day and he was spinning around in circles. He had a long way to go yet but he didn’t want to come with us. Didn’t want to hear some advice on how to do it differently…do it better. Well, not yet anyway. When you approach it, the take out point from the river is a little tricky. A huge rock is in the middle of the river making quite the wave that you need to avoid. (Sam and I went through it one year and well, that’s another story!) Anyway, our family had stopped for a lingering picnic lunch and as we approached the last little bank before the stretch of water approaching the take out point, we saw the young man again. He stood perusing the river. He look daunted, worried. This time, he was ready to accept help. When we got up close to the fellow, we saw how young he was. Oh my. So young. Maybe twenty. His name was Mike. Turns out Mike had begun the trip with his father and his younger brother but the canoe had gotten caught broadside in the current. They had all gone swimming, lost valuable fly fishing gear and been quite shaken up. The younger son was too frightened to continue so the dad took the younger son and walked back to the road hoping to hitch a ride to the take out point and meet up with his older son later. The older son, Mike, had bursitis in both of his feet making him unable to walk long distances. He didn’t feel he had a choice but to continue on down the river on his own. He had never done this before…no one had taught him how. His father had left him alone to manage the river by himself. He had tipped the canoe two more times. He was utterly exhausted. John talked to him about where he needed to be sitting in the canoe to make it easier…how he needed to turn the canoe backwards since he was alone. We would tell him exactly where to go on the river and he could follow us. Or he could get in our canoe and we would tow his. 'He was tired. He wanted in our canoe. Sometimes you need to help people by leaving them alone and conveying your belief that they can do it; they’re going to be alright. Sometimes you need to help them by giving them encouragement and advice; telling them what to avoid, what to aim for. Sometimes, you need to help by giving them rest and offer to carry them for awhile; let them know there’s no shame in that. Our boys went on ahead of us and positioned themselves to be ready to do a water rescue should we capsize while John attached the fellow’s canoe to ours with a rope. Mike got into the middle of our canoe and we began to paddle down the river. The current was swift. Mike’s canoe was passing us making the situation worse. We had to regroup. We pulled over again and made our plan. I would go with Mike in his canoe and John would go by himself behind us. I’d gone down this river maybe ten times before; canoed part of it once by myself on what was a horridly windy day. I knew how tired and discouraged Mike was. Now, I was called to help him navigate, tell him when and where to paddle but wanted to do it in a way that didn’t emasculate him. I wanted to encourage his masculinity and his strength. And pray like the dickens that we didn’t flip over and get hurt. (Been there. Done that. Didn’t want to do it again.) I was a little nervous but I felt something good and strong rise up in me. John believed I could do this, didn’t hesitate in giving me the responsibility. Fear tried to raise up its pointy little snake of a head but there was no room for fear here. My strength was called upon. I would rise to the occasion. And I would trust God for his help. Oh the glorious moment of pushing off and heading into the rapid current. “Paddle right”. “Stop!”. “Right again, not so strong.” “Yes! Good!”. We avoided the rapid and at the right moment turned the canoe towards the bank. I could see my sons at the ready. There was Mike’s father and mother, waiting, watching, concerned. Mike did great. No incidents. Just smooth paddling and a semi rugged landing and a warm greeting at the shore. Then John arrived, strong, steady, capable. We were proud of this young man and told him so. God had given us a fabulous afternoon having invited us up into his Larger Story yet again. It makes you feel so alive to be a part of a rescue!
Stasi Eldredge
Oy Vey!
I can’t eat anything delicious. My period is coming. And I’m trying to relate to my sixteen year old son. It is not going well. Sometimes I feel that he looks at me like I am a strange (not exotic, just strange) fish swimming inside of a tank. What?!? Huh? I don’t like it. I want to snap at him for looking at me weird, dismissing me, not responding to me with awed respect. I want to go into the pantry and eat some forbidden food by the handful. Bury my face in a pan of brownies. That’ll show him. Instead, as those godless roads are closed to me, I escape to my bedroom and give myself a time out. Big breath. What is true? Who is the grown up here? How do I love from this out of sorts place? Jesus, please come. Help me rise above my hormones and sugar addiction and self centeredness. Fill me Holy Spirit. I breathe you in. I let go of my own agenda and complusions. Thank you. I’m still hungry but choose to reengage. “Ping pong?”, I offer. He says no thanks. I am still a fish. “I turn my eyes up to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, maker of Heaven and Earth.” I love you, Jesus. I know this is about me, not my son. You are the only One who can fill this hungry heart.
Stasi Eldredge
Fashionista NOT
I’m going to make a confession. Big breath. Here goes. I like jumpers. There I said it. I have a friend, a very beautiful, style concious, always looks SO good friend, who told me several years ago that I needed to “lose the jumpers”. I haven’t. I have four of them in my closet – one is 12 years old – it’s a jean overall well worn comfortable thingy and well, yes, it was my daily uniform for a couple of years. But it’s so versatile! Really! I love it. I can’t let it go. It would be like letting go of an era. My sons childhood. Then I have a newer jean jumper that I fit into sometimes. Currently it fits. It’s actually better if it doesn’t. I have two more for dressier occasions. So there. I like them. I think they look stylish. They’re easy and comfortable and hide a multitude of sins. But oh dear, I don’t want to be a woman who holds onto her treasured past and precious memories by not moving on in her personal life and style. A few years ago I found a picture of me from the fourth grade and realized, “I still have the same hairstyle!”. Huh. I read an article in the doctor’s office a while back interviewing Susan Lucci, the famous femme fatale of daytime television. She explained that one of the ways her charachter stays so attractive is that she constantly updates her hairstyle to be current with the trends of today. Huh again. What a balancing act we walk as women. We want to be attractive. We want to take care of ourselves and our appearance because we matter. We matter to God! But we don’t want to get overzealously focused on our appearance to the detriment of what matters most, our life with Jesus. Nor to we want to swallow hook, line and sinker, the downhill flow of worldly fashion. I love this quote by Edith Head, famous fashion designer for the movies for decades. “Your dress should be tight enough to show you’re a woman and loose enough to show you’re a lady.” Sadly, she didn’t say anything about hair. Or jean jumpers. I will ask God. He’ll hold my hand on this tight rope.
Stasi Eldredge