Anne Frank & the Happy Dance

This past week I have established a ritual of listening to The Diary of Anne Frank on audiobook while doing the dishes. In this narrative Anne Frank, a teenage Jewish girl, candidly shares the woes and reflections of her life in hiding. Most people are familiar enough with this work to know this much, but I have not heard the insight Anne Frank possessed often mentioned.

Though I had read the book before as a girl, I hear more now that I am older and her insight astounds me... In fact, just recently something I heard Anne confide to her diary was so profound; it challenged me to change my entire outlook on life.

In order to for you understand how Anne Frank taught me the Happy Dance I need to make a shocking confession. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me because in truth I can be a cry-baby and sometimes greasy pans can put me in a foul mood. Which is why this Monday morning as I rushed to clear the sink and prepare lunch my attention was split between listening to Anne’s reflections on her life in hiding, applying some serious elbow grease to our frying pan, and mental berating myself for being irritated at Tim to the point of tears for leaving the crumbs of shredded cheese on my oven.

Truth be told, in my mental PC Anne and the dishes were open windows, but self-contempt was the program up on my monitor.

So I had a hard time hearing Anne’s voice over my own mental soundtrack reminding me that “You are a lazy, nagging wife.” Today I can tell you this was not true. Tim was not even there for me to nag and the reason the dishes weren’t done was that I had been at work earlier that morning. But nevertheless on Monday I was too tried and put-out to realize that the voice in my head was lying to me. The more I listened… the more amplified my contempt became. I started thinking, “Who are you to be depressed? Why are you crying about dishes? You think you have it hard, but you’re nothing but an ingrate. You have food to eat and a husband who loves you… so what right do you have to complain about anything?”

Just at that moment the Anne Frank window started flashing on the PC taskbar in my mind. She had a nugget of wisdom relative to my mental state and my brain was kind enough to dim the volume of my emotional tissy low enough for me not to miss hearing Anne’s reflection on her mother’s pessimistic approach to their frustrations [Mrs. Frank would think of all the miserable people in the world and try to be glad she wasn’t in their place]:

“I don't think of all the misery, but of the beauty that still remains... My advice is : "Go outside, to the fields, enjoy nature and the sunshine, go out and try to recapture happiness in yourself and in God. Think of all the beauty that's still left in and around you and be happy!"

I realized that I approach life like Mrs. Frank. When I am facing a difficulty I think of all the people in the world who have it worse off than I and then beat myself for not being more grateful until I can manage a content composure. Not only is this kind of self-imposed contentment completely fake, it’s counter-productive. In the end all I’ve succeeded in doing is forcing a more miserable me to grit her teeth and bear it with a smile plastered on her face. Now that Anne has pointed out to me the folly of this approach, I have determined to try out hers.

My spin on it is this:

When I feel sick, tired, depressed, defeated, fat, like-a-bad-wife, frustrated-with-housework, frustrated-with-God, etc…

I am going open a different window in my mental PC by doing something to recapture joy. I am going to sing, draw, go on a walk, play the piano, blog, or just dance around my house like a fool until simple pleasures remind me that life is good. Then I am going to thank God for the Happy Dance, my home, my families, my job, and most of all, my husband.

The Old Testament admonishes God-followers to recapture joy in this way. The Israelites returned to Jerusalem from exile only to discover a scroll containing God’s laws, which they had unknowingly broken for years. They were heartbroken and repented. Their leader, Nehemiah encouraged them, "to eat the fat, and drink the sweet, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.” God's message to his people was

• not remember how much worse off people in slavery had it,
• not to fake a cheerful attitude and keep their nose to the grindstone with the rebuilding of Jerusalem,
• but to enjoy what He had given them to enjoy and thank him for it.

This attitude of "recapturing joy" gave me a new context for understanding Paul’s advice to the Philippians,

I have learned how to be content with whatever I have. I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything. I have learned the secret of living in every situation, whether it is with a full stomach or empty, with plenty or little. For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength (4:11b-13)

Here is the question that has taken new hold of my heart: "What if the strength that Christ gives us is the type of joy Nehemiah prescribed?” I think it must be. I think God wants us to think more like Anne Frank on this one.

God has wired his children so that somehow in enjoying Christ, in enjoying the gifts right in front of us, we can be elevated. It is here that we can find the strength of the Lord and contentment in all things. So if you're like me and secretly cry about dumb things like cheese on the stove top and dirty dishes, why not join me in giving joy a shot instead. We may end up:

like Paul and Silas still worshipping God in a prison cell…

Or simply drinking in the good in every moment…

Doing the happy dance.

It's Not Your Fault

Last night was date night and since I have been battling a pretty hardcore sinus infection Tim and I decide to watch Good Will Hunting at home. Though normally I veto watching anything rated above PG, We were both interested in seeing this movie because of one scene which we had seen in church as an illustration of the type of hurt this generation is carrying:

Will is talking with Shawn, his friend and therapist. Shawn pulls out Will's file and there are photos of the physical abuse Will endured in foster care. Will breaks into sobs as Shawn tells him, "this wasn't your fault..." over and over.

The first time I saw this scene I knew I had to see the movie. I connected with Will--- I too carry in my heart blame for things which I know intellectually were never my fault. After watching the movie Tim and I discussed: (1) how many people we know carry this same baggage, 2) how hard it is for anybody to heart to realize that evil is often outside of his control to stop, and (3) how the hurting heart resists the grace of God.

Here are my reflections:

... It's weird to me how long it takes people to realize in their hearts that we live in a world where bad things happen outside of our own control... It's as if we think that by holding on to responsibility for the hurt, by tightly grasping the pain in our fist, we can keep evil from ever hurting us again. But the truth is, as Will Hunting discovered, blame is a prison we build for ourselves, and the pain we hold tightly to is the poison that kills us. When we stop rehashing the nights we spend in the valley of the shadow, we know

Evil will shake us, strike us, smite us,

and we won't be able to predict, control, or stop its onslaught, but

To thrive in this life, we have to let go. We have to risk being hurt again...




It has personally taken me a long time to realize that what happens to us is not always a reward or punishment dealt out by a an authoritarian, heavenly Father. We are all in one way or another victims of a dangerous world. We are all victims of our own selfish desires... We are sick, broken, hurt...

But we are loved into being, and incomprehensibly Jesus still reaches out to hold us in our sickness, brokenness, and hurt. If you go with him into the places where intellectually you know "it wasn't your fault," he will hold you there until your heart is able to believe it. If you go with him into the dark places where you were the one to blame, he will hold you until your heart soaks in the greatness of His mercy and forgiveness.

Jesus has come to reveal to all humanity that God is a loving Father. James, his brother, describes the Father Jesus had revealed to him as, "the Father of heavenly lights, from whom we receive every good and perfect gift." Though it is true our Father disciplines us, he is not orchestrating the evil we experience. We live under Mercy. In this age God has not chosen to demonstrate His wrath, but His healing.

Later in the same letter James instructed Christians to,

Speak and act as those who are going to be judged by the law that gives freedom, because judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment!

James 2:12-13

Do we?

10 years from now….

WGN had a Father of the Bride marathon tonight. As the evening progressed I was enraptured by the unlikely saga of Nina Banks and Annie McKenzie. Poor George… Who can blame him for flipping out when he found out both his daughter and his wife were pregnant?

I found myself envying Annie with an passion which seemed really out-of-character until I realized that I was feeling the same emotions I felt the first time I saw the movie in middle school.

I was so intensely channeled into my 7th grade extreme emotions I could have sworn I had somehow been catapulted back in time…

Ten years ago:

Thirteen is an awkward difficult age for girls. Sensing that I needed some “Mom time,” my mother rented Father of the Bride II from Schnuck’s to watch especially with me. We laughed and ate big bowls of chocolate cherry ice cream while watching the movie. As I lost myself in the unfolding drama I realized I am woman too. My body is capable of nurturing a life inside.

I was jealous of Annie for having a baby because I wanted to know for sure that someday I would have my own.

A few weeks after this epiphany I experienced a twinge of jealousy while holding a newborn for the first time. My aunt and uncle had nicknamed their baby Dolly, and she was. Perfect. Miniature. Truly a doll.

I was hypnotized by the subtle rise and fall of her tiny chest. Watching her, my own chest began to ache. I knew I was holding the most precious treasure in the world… Then and there I decided that what I wanted more than anything else was to be a mother.

Much to the chagrin of my teacher this was reflected in my homework. Mr. Green wanted to inspire us to work had in school so we could get good paying jobs. He gave us worksheets containing a chart which asked our one, five, and ten year goals. Most of my classmates dreamed of becoming movie stars or professional athletes, but I dreamt of family. So at the age of thirteen I recorded this 10 year goal- “In ten years I want to be married and have four children."

Twenty-three was so grown up in my mind that this goal seemed perfectly reasonable. My teacher tried to persuade me to consider careers I would like and include those in my goals, but I assured him I had considered what I could do in the future and the job I wanted most was to be a mom.

Ten years later, God has gloriously answered my heart’s prayer to be a wife and I am more realistic about the amount of work it takes to be a parent. Though I am definitely glad I didn’t manage to have four children already the whisper inside the core of me, is telling me over and over that I wouldn’t mind having 4 in the next ten. I still feel in my gut the same ambivalence when holding a very small child: a mixture of desire and awe, a stirring hunger and hope that life would also grow in me. The privilege God has given women to work intimately within us to bring life overwhelms me. I bubble over with the same intoxicating wonder as the psalmist:

Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;
you formed me in my mother's womb.
I thank you, High God—you're breathtaking!
Body and soul, I am marvelously made!
I worship in adoration—what a creation!
You know me inside and out,
you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
all the stages of my life were spread out before you,
The days of my life all prepared
before I'd even lived one day.

Psalm 139:13-16 the Message

Nothing in this life will compare with becoming a mother….. and I do long for the day when the child I hold in my arms is my own.

The redemption of lentils

A few days ago I was sharing with a friend of mine how Tim and I are economical eaters and she began to rave about her recipe for lentils. “Lentils, yuck,” I thought, “Lentils are bland and boring.” True, I may be prejudice. You see ever since my sophomore year of high school, when I went on a two month “lentil diet,” I have refrained from preparing lentils in anything besides soup.

But today I felt adventuresome and decided to give my friend’s recipe a try...

Wow! I really don’t think I have ever had anything as delicious in my life. I had made an extra-serving for Tim to eat for dinner one of the evenings I had to work, but there were definitely no leftovers since we both elected to have seconds. We seriously liked it so much that we spent the meal plotting who all we could have over to feed these lentils to. That’s when I decided that this recipe definitely merited mention in the blog.

Mujaddara is an easy-on-the-pocket, simple-to-prepare, Middle-Eastern dish that is packed with essential yummy-ness. Today for lunch I made a spin off the traditional recipe:

• First I carmalized 1.5 onions using olive oil
• Then I heated 1 cup cooked lentils + 1.5 cups boiled rice in the skillet until rice/lentils were crisp.
• I seasoned the lentils and rice with salt & pepper and plated with the carmalized onions on top
• Tim drizzled his with olive oil, and I added extra pepper to mine [whatever floats your boat.]

Since I already had cooked rice and lentils the entire prep time only took about 25 minutes. When I did the math the cost pre-serving is less than a dollar, and given further researched I discovered the health benefits of this dish add up too:

Calories- 339, Protein- 13, Fiber-13 [for meal-sized portion]

With all these elements in its favor you should definitely give Mujaddara a shot. If you are unwilling to risk preparing it personally, come over to my basement and I’ll gladly treat! I am convinced that once you taste this meal you too will feel compelled to join my crusade to redeem this oft-overlooked legume. The world must know how great lentils can taste!

Devotional Addendum:

I feel the need to tie this post in with my theme of discovering the truth of scripture in the real world, but also know that it would be a stretch to write an entire devotional around the fact that while I consumed this scrumptious repast the psalmist’s admonition, “Taste and see that the Lord” is good came to mind. After all I have always assumed that the psalmist is talking about tasting the Presence of God, not a bowl of lentils.

On the other hand since this Middle Eastern dish is a part of Jewish cuisine, it seems reasonable that many of the heroes of the Bible would have eaten similar flavor combinations. Perhaps it was the purity of a simple dish like this that for the Psalmist connected the sense of taste with the goodness of the God who has given man both the ability to taste and food to enjoy.

Another possible Biblical tie I personally I like to imagine is the apostle Paul enjoying Mujaddara with the members of a house church he planted… with all the places Paul traveled I sure that if someone was making Mujaddara at that point, he got to try it.

These musings maybe a crazy, non-sequetor way of thinking… forgive me. Sometimes my imagination runs away with itself.

Here’s the concrete take- away-point in this random addendum: The next time you get a chance to eat something delicious [be it Mujaddara or anything else] pause for a moment to consider how God has gone beyond providing for the needs of the body and has made the act of eating a source of enjoyment for the human soul. How can we keep from praising the greatness of our Lord? God’s goodness is evident, even in a bowl of lentils.

Never Suppose to be Barbie

a small miracle happened on Sunday…

The setup is this. I’m a bred wallflower. Since I can remember my heart has been asking, “Can God really love me the way I am?” I’m sensitive to rejection so like a lot of women I have forever needed a ton of affirmation from people to be okay with who I am. Since I was a little girl I have been watching to figure out what I could do, who I could become to make other people like me...and as someone who loves Jesus, I specifically watch the leaders in my church to determine who I should become to be pleasing to God.


The pastors of the church I grew up in were amazing people, out-going, full of passion, and [I mean this with all respect] looked like Ken and Barbie. I honestly used to listen to my pastor preach and inwardly resolve to hit the gym and start a new diet.

I followed the same behaviors in each of the churches I have attended since subconsciously attempting to squeeze myself into their mold of desirability. I analyze my interactions with the body to glean acceptability. “Do I have a place here? Am I okay? What do I need to change now?”

The dumb thing is, in my busyness to figure out how to fit in, I never sorted out who I am. I was so young when I decided that I who I was needed to change, that I don’t even remember who that girl was.

Well on Sunday I woke up in my typical Sunday morning self-loathing mood because Tim was gone with a group from the college and I had no intention of facing church alone… but not going to church makes me feel like a heathen. Before I escaped back to bed I checked my email. A lady from Crossroads Assembly of God had emailed me. As I read her words I knew that I need to go there.

Going alone to a church I have never been to is very uncharacteristic of me [like I said I won’t even attend service at the church I’ve gone to for years by myself.] Somehow the anonymity was freeing though. Since nobody knew me or would ever see me again I felt permission to be broken. I silently cried throughout the service. Afterward the lady who had emailed me, came to invite me to go to lunch. Of course I still looked upset so she asked if she could pray for me, and this sob caught in my throat.

This was my miracle—“Aha” moment. I realized as she was praying is that the reason God has seemed so distant is that I wouldn’t let Him love me. I was resenting the demands that I projected on Him, but He was wanting to free me to be the woman He created me to be. Guess what? I was never suppose to be Barbie!

Now things are shifting in me. A process of rediscovering God’s will in this life has begun. The most concrete evidence of unfolding transformation is laughter. Striving to be good enough to be loved had made me a very serious person. Appreciating now that I am already loved sets me free to relish the love I have. Tim has commented over and over on how silly and happy I’ve been the past couple days. I am discovering the truth in the words of comfort Zephaniah spoke to the nation of Israel, “The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing. (3:17)"

In a culture designed to make us feel not enough, it is counterintuitive to rest in the knowledge that our Father delights in us, but He really does. We are as we should be--- just what He wanted, so very dear to His heart.

The beautiful freedom of lack

Personally I have found that the more I simplify life the better life gets. There is something glorious about having nothing of value in the world, but faith and love.

Everybody agrees that these are the rewards of life, but what I am learning [that everyone else may not yet know] is that most everything else is just a distraction. Simplicity brings its blessing by freeing us from the tyranny of stuff. As a young bride supporting her man through school my whole life is colored with beautiful freedom of lack. For instance:

• I’ve been wearing the same second-hand clothes for several years now. Every hand-me down reminds me of the love of the giver and each holds a hundred beautiful memories. Though my jeans are frayed and shirts faded, they look better on me than ever because ,filled with Tim’s love, I smile more than ever. He’s given me the security to finally gain the few extra pounds that I stubbornly fought for years. In my new body I am both prettier and honestly happier to grasp another measure of peace with how I am fashioned. By refusing to attempt to keep up with the latest fashions I find a more authentic me, a beauty that is deeper than status.

• Tim and I have a very modest food budget. We have become incredibly creative with the preparation of rice, beans, and eggs since ten dollars could buy enough for us to survive an entire week with little else. We truly feel that using these staples as primary components of our diet helps to connect our hearts our brothers and sisters around the globe. As we thank God for this food we remember the millions of people who would gratefully receive what the American palet has been trained to scorn as boring. Then there is nothing more glorious than the smell of warm bread. We bake all our own. Tim still laughs every time I encourage the dough ball, “rise, little guy. I know you can” but these last months have taught us that everything tastes better with a heaping portion of love mixed in.

• Without a huge budget for leisure dates often consist of long walks… we laugh, pray, sing, and sometimes just chat…. and sometimes just be. Going to Walmart for groceries is always a fun time together. We always visit our friends-- the greeters and cashiers. Though we mostly eat at home, we occasionally splurge on the dollar menu. Once a week we go to The Well to split a Granita so we’ve tried every different flavor. Granitas there are heavenly—one of my favorite things of all time. All the baristas know our order, “One granita with whipped cream in two cups and a glass of water.” It has become our ritual before enjoying a single sip to pray that God will bless our baristas and all the people who have also gathered at The Well to be refreshed body and soul.

• A small basement apartment means that we spend more time in each other’s space.

• Sharing one beat-up vehicle means we walk, we plan, we pick each other up.

• Without television, texting-plans, or game systems, we spend our time in real world recreation.

… the list really could go on and on if I were patient enough to write it. I am not romanticizing the struggle of marrying before your “financially secure,” just sharing that we have discovered that the blessing outweighs the hardship. Working three jobs… overtime and overnight is draining. Being the bread-winner without being in a position to establish a career is hard. There are days when I envy other girls cars, clothes, and well-maintained thinness; but I realize that I wouldn’t trade what we’ve found for they’ve got. In the things of faith and love, the things that really matter, we are millionaires. I madly in love with my husband… and enjoying every minute of growing up together.

Together we are learning the truths that Jesus taught his disciples,

"If you decide for God, living a life of God-worship, it follows that you don't fuss about what's on the table at mealtimes or whether the clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your life than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds. "Has anyone by fussing in front of the mirror ever gotten taller by so much as an inch? All this time and money wasted on fashion—do you think it makes that much difference? Instead of looking at the fashions, walk out into the fields and look at the wildflowers. They never primp or shop, but have you ever seen color and design quite like it? The ten best-dressed men and women in the country look shabby alongside them. "If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don't you think he'll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I'm trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God's giving. People who don't know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don't worry about missing out. You'll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.

Matthew 6:25-33- The Message