Leave that Mom Alone!

When Britney Spears was in the middle of her apocalyptic 2007 meltdown/mental collapse, she found a strange supporter in internet video blogger Chris Crocker. Chris made this bizarre, but passionate plea as a fan for everyone to “Leave Britney Alone.” It was borderline hilarious and quickly went viral and had many parodies over the next few months. Watch Chris Crocker's Britney rant... because you've missed it (contains bad language). As weird as it, I have to make this Chris Crocker-esque plea – “Leave that mom alone!”

Yes, THAT Mom. The one who is formula feeding her newborn or whose car seat strap got tangled because she’s short on sleep and now wouldn’t pass inspection, or the one whose kid’s butt is touching 4,000 carcinogens right now because she picked disposables instead of cloth diapers. The mom whose kid is melting down in the store, who is trying to decide what the best course of action is… because it feels like it might be to just leave the kid there and head to the liquor aisle. The mom who’s wearing her baby in a front-facing carrier, and it will probably be wheelchair ridden for most of its life now because she didn’t read all the articles on the dangers of crotch-dangling. Leave. Those.  Moms.  Alone.

As a culture, Mommy Guilt is a really, really real thing. The first time I experienced Mommy Guilt, I wasn’t a Mommy. I was actually the kid. The poor, abused child, being saved by someone who knew better. My mom and I were at 7th grade registration, and after begging her since I was basically born, I was allowed to wear make-up! Make-up is generous. I was allowed to wear clear mascara, lip gloss, and a little bit of eyeshadow. Seventh grade was what my mom agreed to, and I was looking good! We went into the gym to register and as we stepped up to the table, a mom with kids my age was volunteering. Before any kind of greeting, she hissed questioningly, “Are you wearing make-up?”
“I am!” I said proudly.
“Oh, gosh. Isn’t 7th grade kind of young?” She said, now addressing my mom instead of me. Before waiting for a response she continued, “I mean, it looks fine, but I just wouldn’t want my daughter wearing make-up in 7th grade.”

I don’t really remember the rest of what happened, but I do know that if you ask my saint of a mother about that woman, she still shudders a bit. Shockingly I didn’t end up a street walker after being introduced to make-up at such a young age.

I really feel like as parents, we realize that we’re pretty much all failing in some way, right? We're guilty because our kids don't eat organic, or they watch too much TV, or they spend time with a baby-sitter regularly. And that’s because we’re all imperfect people doing the best we can. But to compensate for the areas that we feel our Mommy Guilt, we all say, “At least I haven’t done THAT.” You may have one “that” or one hundred “thats” that you consider woefully poor parenting, but at the end, it’s all a game to make us feel better that our own failures “aren’t as bad” as what others are doing. And that’s sad.

It’s sad because

• We are cheating ourselves. We are essentially lowering the bar for ourselves when we fixate on what other moms are doing “wrong.”
• We are perpetuating a practice that loads on the Mommy Guilt, and tears people down, rather than building them up. No one is a better Mom because someone said, “You should be a better mom!”
• We are putting a façade of “being helpful” around something that is anything but. If you are genuinely concerned about how someone you know is parenting, privately offer them help one on one. Don’t blow up their Facebook with 400 articles citing how they’re screwing up their kid for years to come. (I've legitimately seen this)

Maybe I’m fired up about this because being a mom (other than being a Christian) is one of the first things that I constantly feel woefully inadequate at. Maybe I’m fired up about it because I’ve seen so many Moms totally torn down by what others moms have said to them. I’m pledging today to stop perpetuating Mommy Guilt – for others and for myself. Will you join me?

Fighting the Good Fight - Guerrilla Warfare

1 Timothy 6:12 begins, “Fight the good fight of the faith.” Fighting the good fight of faith is probably one of the hardest things we are called to do as Christians. And from what I’ve noticed, a lot of us are kind of doing a terrible job in our battle strategy. There two main camps of Christians (who I truly believe are fighting the good fight in the way they think is best), that I personally feel are kind of jacking up the overall battle plan: the Redcoats and the post-apocalyptic hermits.

The Redcoats: We all know Christian Redcoats. Even non-Christians know Christian Redcoats. BECAUSE, these are the people who make it totally clear that they disapprove of 90% of what the world is doing – and Jesus surely would to. They’re posting how they will chain themselves to Hobby Lobby and eat Chick-Fil-A every day for the rest of their Jesus-loving lives. They are the people who are picking the least significant fights and marching into battle with their bright red coats, playing drums and fifes ala Britain in 1776. And, much like their counterparts 200+ years ago, their getting shot down. They’re not taking time to love the world… or even learn the world… before they take up their war banner. And I know that Jesus says that He and his followers are not of this world – but what if we kept that as a dear reminder in our hearts to get us through hard times, rather than a basis for a smear campaign against other people that… wait for it… GOD LOVES JUST AS MUCH AS YOU.

The Post-Apocalyptic Hermits: While Redcoats march proudly into battle waving bias news articles and judgment, the post-apocalyptic hermit Christians retreat into the safety of other Christians. Their kids go to private schools or are homeschooled, they listen only to Christian radio, their athletic leagues, social groups, and work affinity memberships are all focused around being with other Christians, in the safety of the Christian environment. They don’t have cable or listen to popular music, and the last movie they went to in theaters was Toy Story 3. To an extent, this is beneficial. God calls us to guard our hearts from impure thoughts, and we should all have fellow Christians to help hold us accountable and support us. BUT, He also calls us to be a light in the world. To tell others about His love and mercy. And the “you guys come over here” mentality is what is killing churches.

How often have people come over to your house without being invited, at least once? Probably rarely. Yet as churches, we buy big buildings, open the doors, and wonder why no one comes in.

So what is the answer?

Honestly, I’m totally unqualified to tell you, because I have both days of being a Redcoat and a Hermit in my attempts to fight the good fight. But a few years ago I read a book called “Guerilla Love.” The “Good Fight” should be fought using primarily guerilla warfare. We should go into the world, not so it can transform us, but so that we can transform it. We SHOULD be different, not because of how opinionated and prideful we are because we’re Team Jesus, but because we want people to feel like they know Jesus when we interact with them. The “there’s something about him/her…” kind of different that makes people feel good, not judged or annoyed. So if you’re a Christian, called to fight the good fight, use means of warfare that will empower and encourage others.

The Importance of Being Important

My parents did many great things for me as I was growing up. They gave me gifts of love, compassion, courage, accountability, and responsibility. I was thinking today about all of the amazing things that they’ve done for me and trying to decide what the greatest gift (other than my faith) was. Was it love? That’s incredibly important. Or consistency? That’s important too. Then it came to me.

The greatest gift my parents gave me was that they taught me I was important. Not just important to them… but that I was an important person.

This may sound like a prideful or vain quality, but I believe teaching children their TRUE importance is absolutely critical. Being important has two very different sides. One part of being important is feeling valued. Important people know that they are worthwhile and worthy of attention and love. My parents put my activities, interests, and ideas as a priority. I was never dismissed out of a conversation because I was a child. They encouraged my ideas and ambitions, and listened eagerly to my plans for the future. Even my extended family reinforced this importance.

One gift that I never fully appreciated until I was older is that my grandfather (who was a businessman in the Mad Man Era) LOVED to hear me talk about my future in grade school. He’d ask me what exactly I’d be doing with my International Business degree from Stanford, with a huge proud grin on his face. “Will you be a diplomat? Or a CEO of a multi-national company?”

My parents came to my cheerleading meets, dance recitals, softball games, one year of painful Bitty Basketball games, Geography Bees, Spelling Bees, school plays… I was important. They taught me that I was worth someone who was willing to spend their investing in me and supporting me. They showered me with love, showing me that I was worthy of affection and meaningful relationships.

But importance has another side. Important people are often under high levels of scrutiny. Accountability is the other side of the coin that is importance. I don’t think I could count the number of times I heard, “If you want to be treated like an adult, you need to act like an adult” as a child. Important people are held to a higher standard, and I knew and lived that. Taking responsibility for our actions, good or bad, was never an option.

On my 8^th birthday, we went to Disney World… It was the best birthday ever! Our family had bought a guide to all of the restaurants and attractions, and I had picked the VERY highest rated restaurant for my birthday. It was on the top of one of the hotels, and we could see the fireworks from there. I was so, so excited. When we got there, it was… well, a little fancy for my palate. Really, it was a little fancy for all of our palates. I still remember my downcast eyes when a tiny burger with no cheese or toppings on a potato bun was set in front of me. I also remember my mom gently whisking me from the table and taking me over near the elevators. “I know this isn’t what you expected… but your grandpa is paying a lot for this special meal.” I was important. I was held to a higher standard because of it.

I know sometimes my mom beats herself up for this, or thinks it was crippling how high their expectations were… But honestly, I believe that dysfunctional behavior at any age comes from people forgetting how important they are. People thinking they are worthy and worthwhile without owning their responsibilities. People who forget that they are worth attention and affection.

You are important to God and to society – both in the sense that you are worthy of love and appreciation, and in the sense that you’re accountable for your behavior and decisions. And that’s the importance of being important!

Wild Faith for the Painfully Practical

In this life, I have been blessed and cursed with the severe and chronic pragmatism. For anyone who doesn’t know, that means that I am extremely, extremely practical.

For most people, being practical is a blessing. As some say, “Common sense isn’t that common anymore.” But I won’t lie, being painfully practical has been one of the biggest struggles of my faith journey.

I’ve been painfully practical since a very young age – at two, I knew that I had a strawberry allergy and needed to ask if strawberry items were “arfillyfiffaly” flavored. At just under three, I encouraged my Dad to pack sunscreen for his business trip to Australia due to the ozone depletion. I think I was confusing Australia and Antarctica, but still extremely practical advice from someone who won’t tie their shoes for a few more years. When I was five and learning to ride my bike, I stopped about a tenth of a mile from a manhole cover and asked my dad what I was supposed to do once I got there.

While being pragmatic has helped me a lot in life… finding and keeping a job, making decent life choices… it’s been a pain in the butt when it comes to my faith. Still today, I’m the only heretic who gasps for air when the Church District Treasurer says something about, “The budget doesn’t always come out on paper, but God always provides.”

The best “joke” was when God called us to be a part of a church plant because, c’mon, church plants are not very practical. It’s always fun to answer people’s wondering questions like, “So why are you doing this?”… “Where are you going to work?”… “Why are you in a hurry to move?” with vague generalities about how God called you to do this work, with subtle undertones of “please try to understand that I’m not a total idiot… I hope.”

While I know that God has gifted me with that pragmatism for a reason – I can provide sound reason in emotional moments… I’m a good “Devil’s Advocate” (no pun intended), but I also don’t want to be held back by that. God does A LOT of stuff that doesn’t make sense – you know, like miracles and stuff. Like people living lives separated from God and then one day God helping it all “click” for that person, and them laying down everything. That doesn’t make sense. And it sure as heck isn’t practical.

But if I served a God of human reason and human practicality, I wouldn’t need faith. I would know the answers. I wouldn’t live in wonder of what my God would do that day.

When life doesn’t make sense… when it’s not practical… when you’re following the “rules” and losing… You have to make a choice. You can become angry about all the things that happen that don’t make practical sense, OR you can thank God every day that he made the rules of pragmatism, but is constantly breaking those rules to reach broken people. It wasn’t practical for Jesus to live a blameless life and then suffer at the hands of people he’d ultimately die for… but he did it. And that’s a much better story for all of us.

Zesty Sauce: A Lesson in Compassion

So whenever I take a spiritual gifts assessment, I score horrifyingly low in compassion. Like, based on my scores, you would most likely think that I spend my free time kicking puppies and laughing at those commercials to support third world children for just pennies a day. That is not at all the case, but I have struggled most of my life with being a compassionate person.

A lot of it is my personality. If you need someone to help motivate you or provide assistance to help you work to get your life on track, I'm your girl. No matter how bad you've screwed up, if you're ready to turn it around, by all means, give me a call. We'll make a plan. We'll work through it. If you want someone to listen to you complain, while you do nothing... don't call me. Ever. I find that totally infuriating. And for a long time I just. didn't. get. it. Why would people just want to talk about how bad something sucks when they can't or won't do anything about it?

Cue a trip to BK the other day. It was probably last Sunday because by the middle of Sundays Nate and I are both always way sleep deprived and ready for some nasty fast food. When I go to Burger King, I usually get a Whopper Jr. with fries and Zesty sauce. Now, if you're not a BK pro, you may not know the magic of the Zesty sauce. It's often offered if you sub onion rings for your fries, but it's actually most magical on fries. It's the most wondrous of fast food sauces - dare I say, better than Chick-Fil-A sauce. Nate and I went through the drive-thru and as we pulled back onto the road I said, "Oh no... I forgot to ask for Zesty sauce!"

Nate mumbled, "Oh no! I'm sorry! I think we have ketchup at home..."

And as much as it pains me to say this, something fantastic happened in that moment. It was like the heavens opened and angels sang - and I had flashbacks of fat people whining about their weight while eating cheeseburgers and poor people whining about their finances while on their smartphones and so on and so forth. I was like MY HUSBAND CARES ABOUT MY ZESTY SAUCE.

Now if he would have said, "Okay, let's go back." I would have been like, "No, are you stupid?"
Or if he was like, "You'll be fine." I would have felt neglected in my Zesty sauceless mourning.

Just because he acknowledge my saucelessness, I immediately felt better.

"Wow," I said. "That was really sweet."
"What was really sweet?" Nate asked me confusedly.
"Your concern over my Zesty sauce."
"What are you talking about?" He responded. Then he looked at me for another few seconds and said, "Sorry, I'm really tired and don't know what's going on."

So it wasn't the most sincere concern, but here's what I learned: right, wrong, or otherwise, sometimes people just need you to acknowledge their pain, concern, frustration, or anger. Not fix it. Not minimize it. Just acknowledge it. It might seem like just a superfluous issue to you... Zesty sauce or the like... but when we are willing to acknowledge how people are feeling without inserting our own thoughts or judgement about their situation, we provide them with comfort just in that.

What's Holding You Back?

Occasionally, I get in ruts. I think we all do. I used to bury myself up to my neck in my rut and just mope around in it. Now, I dangerously asking myself - what's holding you back?

A rut is just that. You get stuck in one way of doing something. A habit. A belief. An acceptance of "the way it is, is the way it always will be."

So this weekend, after an awesome message on being Fully Alive at Innovate Church, I asked myself what was holding me back from being Fully Alive. I won't lie, lately I've been tired, stressed out, battling chronic headaches, and fighting what seems like my own personal dark cloud. Here are the things I immediately identified as holding me back:

Caffeine - If you're addicted to caffeine, you can probably sympathize with me on this one. I was to the point where if I didn't have the equivalent of an IV drip of coffee in my veins at all times, I would get terribly painful headaches. Also, my caffeine always came in the form of a super sugary soda or coffee- with loads of cream and sugar. Not exactly healthy.

Going out to eat - Again, not healthy. But also, TERRIBLY expensive! We had gotten in a really bad habit in March and April from how busy we were to just go grab something to eat for dinner. At work, I was buying my lunch almost every day because it was convenient and it was a way to "splurge" when I was having a stressful day.

Facebook - Yup, I love Facebook. I love the way it keeps me connected with acquaintances new and old, I love to document Blakely's firsts and post pictures... but I didn't love how much time it was consuming. I didn't love that sometimes I was picking it over spending time doing things with the people I love. And while it seemed like a great option for "vegging" I actually realized that some of the things I read on there were actually causing me more stress!

So what did I do?

I went cold turkey. ON ALL THREE OF THEM. In a weird way it helped because the nauseating and distracting headache from cutting caffeine made me considerably less inclined to miss getting on Facebook or going out to eat. I guess you could call it fasting. For me, I needed to reset, and the easiest way for me to do that was to totally cut myself off. The caffeine withdrawals are pretty much done. I haven't bought food outside our house for a couple weeks. And because I didn't even think about signing onto Facebook tonight during Nate's worship practice, Blakely and I read books, played with toys, watched some cartoons, and took a bath tonight, without any interruptions.

What's holding you back, and what are you going to do about it?

The Business of Being Jesus

Some people have really awesome, really clear ministry gifts. My best friend Holly has a huge heart for kids. She does an amazing job teaching and nurturing them. My husband's gift, among others, is that he is awesome at leading worship - both singing/playing guitar and being able to connect with people. I've never really felt like I've had that kind of gift. The closest I've felt to that is my ability to make things happen. Get things paid, get people where they need to be, get things on track... so when we started the process of planting this church, I gave myself the honorary title of Associate Pastor of Getting Sh...tuff Done. Ali Morrison, APGSD.

At first, that "job" was really fun. I got to proofread, format, and assemble Shawn's proposal that was presented to the district board to approve our church plant. Boom, accepted. Yes! There were several other really cool things that I got to do to help get Innovate off the ground.

But after a while, the fun of the job... and why I was doing it... really started to fade for me. And that was my fault.

Writing checks, scanning receipts, designing postcards and flyers, ordering things... They didn't feel like ministry. They felt like a hassle. I felt like I was helping run a business... not a church.

Oh, and you know what's really fun? When the postcards you expedited for a hefty fee don't actually end up arriving in an expedited fashion. OR when you want to strangle your bank because their computers were down when your insurance company tried to run the church's liability policy premium and your calling back and forth between the two to figure out how to resolve the payment before your policy is canceled. Oh AND everything they are looking at says Innovate Church all over it, so if you tell them to go... fly a kite... like you want to, you're really delivering that message on behalf of the whole congregation and Jesus too. *Just as a note, I managed to get thanked for my patience from all parties involved, due to the abundant grace of Jesus and how he helped me take deep breaths and count to 47,000*

But today, I got to sit in service for the first time to enjoy the worship experience, instead of serving. It was the first time since we've started the church that I've got to watch my husband lead worship. It actually brought tears to my eyes to see him fulfilling that part of his calling. Shawn delivered an amazing message. I told him it was the best sermon I've ever heard, and I'll stick with that. And as I sat in worship, I was so humbled and honored to have been able to support the amazing things that are happening there in some way.

I saw people that Nate and I invited. But I didn't just see them sitting in the congregation. I saw them do the video announcements, play in the band, and run the sound board. I saw equipment that was purchased from the account I set-up, items I had written reimbursement checks for, and items I had saved my own receipts to be reimbursed for. I knew everyone was protected with the liability policy that I painstakingly worked to maintain when the bank couldn't figure out how to run the premium through our account. And I watched people walk out with postcards and invite cards that I had worked hours on designing, making, and ordering, so they could invite their friends to know about Jesus.

Don't mistake, today wasn't a day that I patted myself on the back like look what I did. On the contrary, I had to take a hard look at the attitude I had about many of the things I had done as part of my ministry, that I had forgotten was a ministry.

The "business" of being Jesus doesn't always have the cool immediate pay-offs of other gifts, like seeing others sing along in worship, or listening to the kids recite their Bible verses. But I will work tirelessly at the business of being Jesus, if that is how I can help connect people with Jesus. Every check I write. Every time I call CEFCU and say, "Oh hey buds, it's Ali from Innovate Church again." Everything I can do to help the church and help people find Jesus, I will do it, thanking God every day that he has gifted me in some small way to do his work.