Day 2: Awkward.

     I've always been kind of an awkward person. Like, I tell a joke and the punch line doesn't quite come out right. Or, I laugh at inappropriate times. Or, I wave at people who are not actually waving at me. Typically, if I don't come across awkwardly, it's because I'm super-censoring myself in my head...before I open my mouth. This is a skill I've come to love, but unfortunately, it is not fool-proof. For example:
     I was walking in downtown Roanoke with my Mom and Dad at about 10pm-ish. We were chatting. We're always chatting. It's our thing. While passing storefronts, my Mom, a self-professed purse-connoisseur, was window-shopping for purses. I explained that the term "purse-connoisseur" was not, in my opinion, an accurate description, but instead should be traded for the "term purse-aholic". She agreed that she had too many and added that she should find a cute consignment shop to sell a few in. Well, to fairly warn you, I project all of my 7 ideas on other people now. It's not one of my finer qualities at this particular stage in my life. Typically, people entertain my slight suggestions as to what they can do with their excess stuff. My mom was gracious that night. I said, "Mom, homeless people are forever needing bags to carry their stuff in. Donations are great, but if there is no way to carry it, it's worthless." <Wait for the awkwardness...> As I stepped past the window-display that we had stopped at, in the alley by the store were three homeless men, looking at me. And, when I say looking, I mean looking. Chills ran through my whole body. I couldn't walk away because my whole world was grounded in that moment. After all of my attempts to rid myself of my middle-class attitude, I had a beautiful opportunity to rub shoulders with those who were hurting. Instead, I opened my big, fat mouth. And, to add insult to injury, one of the kind gentlemen, ever so cooly, said, "Nice Bag."
     As I walked away, (after I regained feeling in my legs), I couldn't get the speaker's eyes out of my head. He didn't look angry. He wasn't hostile at all. (He probably should have been, so I watched my back all the way to the car...another detail I'm not particularly proud of.) In fact, he was kind of gentle. He just made a point. I'm still middle-class, detached from the world of poverty and need. I don't understand his needs. I don't feel his pain. And, yet, I was so bold as to speak for him. As I was walking to the car, I felt a new fear rise up in me. Jesus said, in Matthew 25:45, "I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me." I walked away. I stared a man Jesus loved in the face, offended him, and then walked away. I didn't apologize. I didn't ask how I could better meet his needs. I walked away, concerned that he might hurt me. Oh, the irony.
     May I never become unteachable because that exchange rocked me back on my heels. "Homeless people", as I so flippantly labeled them, have a face now. And, it's a face that I may never forget. And, when there is a face to go with a label, the label gets lost and all that is left is real life with real needs and real pain.


     Anyhow, I'm supposed to be resting today. So, rest, I shall, on this Sabbath.

Month 4 Challenge: Breathing Again.

Forgive my hiatus from writing last month. I can't possibly explain how busy (and, dare I say, stressful) my month was. And, I guess it's okay to admit that I've dreaded the following confession. Just for the sake of updating the 7-Faithful, last month (spending) was an utter failure in the Beaudoin household. I kind of considered glossing over the summary of our experiences, leaving out the gruesome details, but I suppose it would be more honest (and, endearing, maybe?) to tell you that we completely fell off the wagon. We started off with the best of intentions...then, we started to relax. Surely we can spend at this restaurant. After all, this is the way our families spend time together, we said. Our travel fund kind of turned into a travel splurge. And, by the third week, we sort of gave up. If I ever doubted how solidly I was rooted in our overwhelmingly consumeristic society, I was reassured last month. If any of you doubted my normalcy and personal struggle, I hope this is a clear picture that I am living in the exact same world as you are, and I am the worst offender of living excessively of us all. And, so, here we are at an impasse. We could call it quits, remembering this as a time when we gave away some stuff and significantly diminished our wardrobe. Or, we could press on...knowing that, in our weaknesses, Jesus is the most strong. Even when we fail to listen to His call to lay down our riches to follow Him, He continues to beckon. So, press on, we shall...

The Month 4 Challenge is one that I've really been looking forward to. It is most certainly the least tangible month in the entirety of 7, but it is the one area that I continually fail in. Month 4 deals with the reduction of stress. So, here is the challenge:

• ·      Observe the Sabbath from sundown on Saturday until sundown on Sunday. I mean, really observe the Sabbath. No house-cleaning, no obligatory activities that are not innately stress-free, no cooking (can't say I'll protest that one). Complete observation of the Sabbath. 
• ·      Observe 7 times of prayer everyday. Those times are as follows:

o   The Night Watch (midnight, or 12am)

o   The Awakening Hour (dawn, or 6:00am)

o   The Blessing Hour (midmorning, or 9:30am)

o   The Hour of Illumination (noon, or 12:00pm)

o   The Wisdom Hour (midafternoon, or 2:30pm)

o   The Twilight Hour (early evening, or 5:00pm)

o   The Great Silence (nighttime, or 9:30pm)

            During these prayer times, our family will be reading through Jesus Calling, by Sarah Young. Essentially, where every other month was grounded in the physical expulsion of excess in our lives, this month is all about ridding our lives of time wasted on stressful activities.

            This month couldn’t come at a better time for our family. At one point last week, I sat on my couch and looked around our house in wonder. My son was crying for me to hold him. My husband looked worn out. There were dishes in the sink, in the floor, on the mantle. Laundry was piling up, my checkbook paperwork was spread out in front of me…right beside my “To-do list” that was a mile long. I just breathed in and put my head in my hands. I made the choice to book my life so tightly, and my husband and son are the ones to pay. This can’t possibly be what God intended life to look like.

            So, this month, we will be tackling our craaaaaazy schedules, and taking time to continually re-center our lives with the One who numbers our days. Every other month seems sacrificial to me. This month is a breath of fresh air. In 7, the book, Jen Hatmaker saves this month for last. We broke the rules and stuck it right in the middle. It’s time to let our lives follow a rhythm that predictably turns our attention toward our Lord.

            I’m kind of excited.