One month ago today, my dad had his stroke.  Although he doesn’t have some of the same skills he did (yet), Dad is still the same dad he was one month ago plus a day.  And, God is still the same God he was on February 7.

My dad and my family are in a season of change–again.  He’s been in the hospital for the last month undergoing physical and occupational therapy to regain movement in his left leg and arm which were primarily affected.  We and the doctors are very hopeful that in time he will be able to do many of the things he’s always done.  Each day he is making improvements and becoming more like “himself”, shifting again the reality of what his daily life is like.  Regardless of how close he gets to his full potential with additional therapy and sheer will of character, life has inevitably changed.  Dad’s can dos have changed.  His schedule has changed.  His independence has changed.  Both Dad and Mom’s jobs have changed.  How they spend their time has changed.  Where they can go has changed.  The scale of their lives has changed, time and energy focused on more basic tasks.  The appearance of their home has changed.  Their ability to visit in my home has changed.  The ease of holding my children has changed.  Their presence in our lives has changed.

Throughout this month, two thoughts have persisted in rising above the din of confusion and adjustment, of sickness and care-giving, of schedules and sleeplessness.  Despite the changes, a family is a family regardless of time, abilities, presence and the space between.  And, we will remain a family.  We will adjust, and life and love will continue.

And this:
“I, the Lord, do not change; therefore, you, O sons of Jacob, are not consumed.” (malachi 3:6)

Right now, Dad can’t move as he once did.  But, God is still moving in strong support of His own. Therefore, we are not consumed by helplessness.

Though we are beginning to see movement in his shoulder, Dad’s arm has been greatly weakened.  But, the same outstretched arm of God that made the heavens and the earth is still reaching.  Therefore, we are not consumed by impossibilities.

In the days after the stroke, Dad had a slight slurred speech that has thankfully subsided.  But, the words of God were and are crisp and sharp.  They stand forever.  Therefore, we are not consumed by the silent unknown.

Next week, Dad will come home sitting in a wheelchair, at least for a time.  But, God is still sitting on the same throne of righteousness He inhabited 29 days ago.  Therefore, we are not consumed by paralyzing fear.

It will be some time before Dad may be able to enjoy the same activities he once did.  But, the uncommon joy of God is our strength.  Therefore, we are not consumed by sorrow.

Dad may not be able to work again.  But, God has not stopped working in us for His good pleasure.  Therefore, we are not consumed by inactivity.

Dad is slowly relearning to put one foot in front of the other.  But, the rock of our God still enables sure footing.  Therefore, we are not consumed by dark stumbling.

The comfortable assumption of a parent I’ve relied upon to be strong has been weakened.  But, the God of comfort is still the abundant Father of mercies.  Therefore, we are not consumed by anxious unrest.

God has not changed. He remains. Our healer. Our protector. Our light. His love and His reach will continue as it always has.  In this, alone, are we steadied from the consuming tide of change.

When I first surfed across the idea of choosing a theme word for the year, I immediately knew it was something I wanted to do.  It was the one idea that inspired me to follow through with some sort of newness resolve for 2009.  I started my word search with a question: What do I want to be different about my life this year? In the space of about ten minutes, the theme word for my year fluttered into focus.

HARMONY

The last few years of our lives have been ones of unprecedented joy, springing largely from the birth of three glorious gifts that have so impacted my heart of hearts.  But, these last few years have also been ones of unprecedented change, and change is challenging.  I came into 2009 feeling tired and disjointed.  The fragments:  the push and pull of being a working mother, the ups and downs of starting a small business, the yeses and nos of raising toddlers, the outs and ins of ordering a bulging home, the gives and takes of nurturing relationships, the blacks and whites of growing a God-pleasing heart, and all the grays and middle grounds and maybes in between.  Like playing with one of Squiggle’s favorite shape sorters, I’ve found myself shuffling this handful of disjointed life parts, looking for ways to piece them all together–to make them all into a kinder, gentler, greater, better whole.

Don’t get me wrong.  All my wonderful “parts” continue to bring joy, and I’ve been able to maintain a fragile, but consistent peace.  But, if I’m honest, it’s not enough.  I want more than tenuous contentment.  I want more than sanity on the verge.  I want more than barely under control.  I want more than a fragile peace.  I want to give my family more than a fragile peace.

So, I started thinking about harmony.  And what kind of peace it brings.

My handy dictionary.com defines harmony in these ways:

1. agreement; accord; harmonious relations.
2. a consistent, orderly, or pleasing arrangement of parts; congruity.
3. in music
a. any simultaneous combination of tones.
b. the simultaneous combination of tones, esp. when blended into chords pleasing to the ear; chordal structure, as distinguished from melody and rhythm.
c. the science of the structure, relations, and practical combination of chords.
4. an arrangement of the contents of the Gospels, either of all four or of the first three, designed to show their parallelism, mutual relations, and differences.

In keeping with what I learned about my 252 approach, harmony is a noun–a state of being, not doing.  When I think of harmony in music, I think of a blending of beautiful sounds that creates an even more beautiful sound, a sound that is richer than the sum of its individual notes.  Hmmm. Harmony brings stability and strength and agreement and melody to my fragile peace.  It becomes peace plus.  Peace beyond.  Beyond just acceptance.  Beyond just contentment.  Beyond just existence.  Harmony is a peace that embraces.  A non-begrudging peace.  An open-hearted peace.  A peace that sings.

Sounds good.  So, how do I get it?  Where do I even start?  Dictionary.com’s quickie etymology lesson, gave me an idea.  The word harmony stems, in part, from a greek word for “joining” or a “joint” and “shoulder”–for me, a body analogy for fitting together in such a way that allows a full and productive range of motion.  A fit that can bear weight.  The greek word (harmos) shows up in this verse from Scripture:

“the Word of God is living and active and sharper than any two-edged sword, and piercing as far as the division of soul and spirit, of both joints and marrow, and able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.” (hebrews 4:12)

So, that’s my starting place–God’s word, again.   The source of all truth and understanding.  The depths of where soul and spirit are divided, it can penetrate.  Where joints and marrow are disconnected, it can reach.  It can pierce the most disparate of dividing lines and weave clarity and unity.  It is the only foundation of a peace that sings, the starting place for Harmony.

If you read my Part 1 of Where Resolutions Come From, you know that the theme word of the year resolve is a new concept I’m eager to explore.  It encouraged me to get beyond a list of to-dos and focus on how I want to be a year from now.  As Slightly Cosmopolitan put it’s something “that reminds you what’s most important and what’s at the heart of all your other goals.”

Hmmm.  And, what about those other goals?  Enter the 252 approach I mentioned in part 1.

“and Jesus grew in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and men.” (luke 2:52)

It may seem like a small and insignificant footnote to the greater truths of Scripture, but somehow I think the verse is  powerful.  It has something to teach me about what’s important.  I was reminded again of its power a few weeks ago when reading the blog of Paul Young, author of the New York Times best-seller The Shack (anxious to read this one.)  He wrote a post about the nature of significance beginning with a statement from his book:  “if anything matters… everything matters.”  His point was that significance is derived from being, not doing [woo hoo, theme word].  Trying to gain significance from doing is inevitably fruitless.  But, when we live based on the significance we have because we are human beings created in God’s image, our “doing” becomes an out-flow and response to that relationship with Him.  Therefore, everything becomes significant.

That’s a shift in thinking!  The laundry drying in the background and the 50 times I’ll likely wash those same clothes this year are significant.  Washing the dishes in my sink, and the 350 times I’ll likely wash them again this year are significant.  The lightbulb is getting brighter, but how does that relate to resolutions and 252?

The time between 252 and the launch of Jesus’ ministry at His baptism was approximately 30 years.  Other than an overnight Temple experience, we don’t know anything about what he “did” during that time.  Yet, Mr. Young reminded me of this:

Jesus spent 30 years ‘doing’ nothing (as the world would understand it), but the first thing we hear about him out of his Father’s mouth is how pleased Father is of His boy.  Did Jesus become significant because of the next three years?  Nope.  He was already significant.

Whatever Jesus did during those 30 years, it was a sinless pleasure to God, and it prepared Him for the greatest accomplishment mankind has ever known.  And, all that God saw fit to tell us about that period was that he grew in four areas–four areas of focus that must be pretty important in becoming the well-rounded, God-pleasing, best versions of ourselves:

1) Wisdom
Jesus grew mentally.  (watchful thinking, decision-making skills, application of knowledge)

2) Stature
Jesus grew physically. (in strength, in stamina, maintaining the body efficiency and economy that God made)

3) Favor with God
Jesus grew spiritually.  (embracing the ways of God and the permanence of his Word, loving the loves of God, acting on the priorities of God)

4)  Favor with Men
Jesus grew relationally.  (building favor with others, building up others, respecting others, loving others honestly and selflessly)

Even in the daily-ness of life, I can see that almost everything I “do” has some sort of impact (positively or negatively) in at least one of those four areas.  And, each area affects my “being” the God-pleasure I was designed to be.  This year, I’ll be looking for ways to allow my theme word to manifest itself in each of those four areas.  Thanks for sharing the journey with me and stay tuned.

I’m behind.  Again.  This post has been procrastinated and interrupted so many times that it’s dangerously close to being ridiculous.  Still, I am compelled to write it.  Compelled by whom, it’s hard to say.  Maybe by glances at the multitude of now-outdated January magazine issues boasting 276, 10 or just 1 brilliant way to do something or another “new” with your life in 2009.  Maybe by society’s continual quest for “more” and “new”, the rat race of discontent.  Maybe by my own thinking.  Where do resolutions come from?

Thinking is a funny thing.  I think.  Although I do it constantly, it tends to be something I plan to do.  I have a running mental list of topics, choices, concerns, and ideas that need further mulling in order for me to decide on a stance–thoughts that have been relegated to the pile of “this requires more brain capacity than I have available at the moment.”  It happens especially when I’m feeling overwhelmed in mind, spirit and schedule.  That’s where I’ve been.  But, invariably if left unattended, those thoughts sometimes gain strength and power, bunch together with other thoughts, jump on board with various reminders from the world of my experience and wriggle their way to the top.

Thus, the resolution post.

It started as an obligation, something I felt I ought to do if I call myself a thinking, responsible human being.  And, of course, any self-respecting blogger must post said obligation for all the internets to see and thereby hold virtually accoutable.  Ick.  Plus, shouldn’t I prove myself to be a “now” woman by adopting some habits to better myself and my surroundings in the year to come?  Double ick.  Since nearly 1/6th of the year is behind me, the ship of self-motivated, on-top-of-it Super Woman has clearly sailed.  Still, my mind has been insistent on resolution-making in some form.  How can I pay attention, if I can’t look at where I am, where I want to be, and how to get there?  I even Googled “resolution” to try to gain some inspiration/motivation.  You’ll be happy to know that the U.S. Government offers a glimpse at 13 popular New Year’s Resolutions.  Thank you.  About.com showcases a bunch of top ten resolutions, and not your average ones.  There’s a top 10 list of resolutions for everything from your yard to your human resources department.  Oh, triple ick.  This year’s inspiration was hard to come by.

I usually take the 252 approach to New Year’s Resolutions–following Jesus’ model of growth found in Luke 2:52. (More on that in part 2.)  But, this year, I just couldn’t start there.  My thoughts were too scattered.  Still, I wanted to come up with at least some semblance of a resolution before the year got away from me.  Then, I came across a post at slightlycosmopolitan.com [awesome blog, btw] that inspired me.  She described reading on one of her favorite blogs [don’t know the one :(] about the concept of a theme word for the year.  She described it as:

“choosing a word to represent your year, a word that inspires and centers you, a word that reminds you what’s most important and what’s at the heart of all your other goals.”

Wow!  It was satori, boo-yow, an aha moment, whatever.  It struck me as the very thing I needed.  I started with the basic question:  What do I want to be different about my life this year?  The core-level answer bubbled up almost immediately, and I’ve been brainstorming on it ever since.  I’ll be sharing it soon (I promise) because it’s at the end of the resolution story, but the beginning of the resolve.  And, I hope to explore it in greater detail at EyeJunkie as the year progresses.  But first, the 2nd part of where resolution come from…