I discovered MORE space in my brain!

Many of us are feel our brain might explode because of all the stuff crammed into it and competing for space--can I get an AMEN? Our minds are saturated with the barrage of data and technology that enters through every crevice of our lives. There is always "noise" around us. Unless you are a Benedictine monk, you probably have information overload.

Do you know a noisy, yet sneaky and insidious force that is constantly assaulting us? It is the almighty machine of Big Marketing. Numbers vary, but approximately $150 billion is spent on marketing each year in the U.S. alone. It's main job is to create dissatisfaction so that we will be compelled to buy some product or service. And it is extremely effective--based on consumer spending, debt, and the rampant materialism ever-present in our culture.

In my last post, I shared that our family gave up "unnecessary consumer spending" for Lent. It is not easy, but I am here to tell you that it felt WONDERFUL and FREEING to temporarily disconnect from some cultural behemoths ever-present in my life: marketing messages, shopping, and consumption. When I gave up most spending, the first sensation I noticed was more room in my brain to actually think.

I know it sounds silly and highly exaggerated, but I felt like a huge amount of static and garbage was removed from my mind. It was calming for me; it allowed me to mentally breathe and to reflect on other things. I felt peaceful.

What I now recognize is that I spend a lot of time mentally planning shopping trips. I plan where I am going to go and what I will buy. I wonder what store I will go to next if the store I visit does not have what I want. I think about what stores are having sales this week. I make shopping lists, which I lose, so I make more lists. I spend brain cells justifying why I am going to buy this or that. I flip through catalogs and make note of the latest fashions or decorations for a birthday party. It is never-ending for me.

These thoughts are normally galloping through my mind many, many times a day, often subconsciously. When I fasted from unnecessary spending it was like I extracted a menacing loop of thoughts, leaving empty space. Imagine, I found extra gray matter for new thoughts or even quiet contemplation. It felt incredibly relaxing, kind of like a mental massage. Most importantly, space was cleared for me to hear the gentle voice of God. He was calling me away from the materialistic stuff that engrosses me and into subdued, peaceful, fellowship with him--far more valuable than anything I find in a catalog or buy at the mall.

As the weeks wore on, days would go by and I would realize that I hadn't even thought about my favorite stores or what I might like to buy. I wasn't interested in the Khol's spring catalog, because whatever was advertised would not be on sale when Lent was complete, so it was easy to toss it. Once Mika and Macy realized I would not be buying them anything other than food from the store to eat, they quit begging for and asking for things. (YES!)

When friends mentioned something they had recently purchased, I listened with interest, but then the conversation quickly exited my brain. I no longer defaulted to thoughts such as: "I want that (necklace, pedicure, CD, etc) too! I wonder how I can get my hands on it?"

At last, I took a deep breath and and could fully appreciate all the comforts I have been blessed with instead of trying to figure out how I could acquire more. I realized I had allowed my desire to collect more stuff to hijack part of my mind.

Of course, it is not inherently wrong to make mental shopping lists or purchases at the store. It is all about finding balance and harmony. My hope is that now that Lent is over, I will be armed with the understanding and recognition of how easily my mind can be overtaken by thoughts of shopping, buying, and consuming. Warning to my brain: Watch out! I already feel Big Marketing sneaking up behind you!

John Frieda Root Awakening and Smoothing Lotion--A Want or a Need?

"What will we give up this year?" Lent was approaching, and Jeff and I discussed what we would voluntarily surrender from Ash Wednesday to Resurrection Sunday. In the past, we have chosen sweets, sodas, TV, or something else that is relatively cut-and-dry. Our decision? "We will give up 'unnecessary consumer spending!'" We unwittingly found ourselves confronting dilemmas we hadn't seen coming.

Note: We are not wrestling with the following issues because we are mired in legalism or are afraid God is going to whack us over the head if we don't "sacrifice enough." Quite the opposite; God is gracious, and he displayed his magnificent grace through the death of his only Son. However, if we choose to "give something up" in order to identify in a small way with Christ, it must challenge us and make us uncomfortable, or it really isn't a sacrifice at all.

Our choice for 2012 presented immediate and continual challenges as we struggled to define what constitutes "unnecessary" consumer spending. Some items in our budget obviously had to go: eating out, paying for movies, and purchases at Joanns for my craft projects were easy calls to make.

Groceries--clearly a need--were allowed--but what kind of groceries? I admit, we cut down on some of the junk food, but still bought a number of food items that we certainly could have lived without (Blue Bell ice cream and Cheez-its, anyone?)

We also spent more than was mandatory on groceries because instead of meeting in restaurants, we had people to our home for coffee or a meal. We hosted two marshmallow roasts in our cul-de-sac. We cooked food and served it to AIDS patients who live in government housing in Oak Cliff. Romans 12:13 states, "Share with God's people who are in need. Practice hospitality." So, we reasoned that Jesus is totally cool with us spending money to feed others and/or welcome them into our home.

I decided that beauty treatments are not essential--goodbye eyebrow waxing, hair cuts, and John Frieda Root Awakening and Smoothing Lotion (once my bottle ran out). However, Jeff insisted that his hair must be neatly trimmed to maintain his professional appearance. (As a stay-at-home mom, my hair does not have to impress anyone;) We could not think of a way to get his hair cut for free, so I sent him to Great Clips with a coupon for a $7.99 cut and style.

My mother's birthday fell within Lent. I believe it would have been very hurtful and dishonoring not to give my mom a gift, so I went to the mall and bought her the French perfume she had requested. Again, I believe offering a gift in love to the woman who birthed and raised me is totally Jesus-approved.

We tried to spend as little money as possible on gas, but we still drove two cars, including my gas-guzzling van. Jeff could have carpooled with others who work for his employer, at least on some days. I made several local trips to see friends that could have been eliminated. I could have bicycled to pick my girls up from school every single day. We decided not to take these extreme measures but instead opted to use Jeff's car, a small sedan, whenever possible.

Every day presented new questions--"Is this a want or a need? Can I do without this, at least for a few weeks? Can I borrow this item from a friend? If this is not a need, does it demonstrate God's love, help others, or build community?

These questions forced me to think differently, since I had abandoned my usual MO of walking mindlessly into a store and swiping a credit card for whatever I wanted/needed/expected/deserved. This experience has been exhilarating, challenging, fun, frustrating, and thought provoking. I have learned I can pluck my own eyebrows and that I don't have to immediately replace my trusty black sharpie when it runs out of ink.

On a more serious note, I feel there was space created in my life so that I could see my relationship to money and possessions from a fresh perspective. God spoke to me about a lot of different things that I am usually to busy to hear because I am composing my errand list or roaming the aisles at Target.

My eyes have definitely been opened to some surprising revelations I am certain I would have missed if our family had not observed Lent in this way. The next few posts will be about what I have learned from this journey--lessons that are at times profound, at times embarrassing, at times funny, and at times surprising. Stay tuned!

HELP--I'm trapped in the machine of excess!!!

Could you survive just wearing seven articles of clothing for an entire month? How about only eating seven different foods? What if you chose to give away seven items from your home each day?

Sound intriguing? Scary? Weird? And why would anyone do such a thing? Author Jen Hatmaker is asking the same kind of questions I often find myself asking: "What are we eating?" "What are we buying?" "What are we wearing?" What are we spending our money on?"

"Seven--An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess," describes Jen's social experiment: for seven months, she pared her choices down to seven items covering seven areas of her life: clothes, shopping, waste, food, possessions, media, and stress.

This book is for suburban moms feeling the tension between the busyness, stress, and debt that characterize our lives and the desire to live more simply, slowly, and with more meaning and purpose.

This book is for anyone who cares about issues of social justice, poverty, oppression, and relieving suffering.

This book is for those that know that loving Jesus is about much more than following a set of rules and showing up at church on Sunday, but they can't quite figure out what is missing.

This book is for those who enjoy an author's razor sharp wit, sarcasm and self depreciating observations. You will laugh so hard you will pee in your pants (have Depends on standby).

Note: this is a book for everybody--those of any faith or no faith. I think we can all agree that the world would be a much better place if we slowed down, stressed less, spent more mindfully, and helped others in need.

In Jen's experiment, she learns that we all need some "white space" in our lives--disconnected from the machine of Big Marketing, materialism, over consumption, and busyness. Only when we pause does room open in our hearts and minds for the suffering and need of 7 billion other people on the planet. She learned that much suffering can be alleviated and many global problems solved if we would heed the command of Jesus to "love our neighbor as ourselves."

She grieves the fact that "While the richest people on earth pray to get richer, the rest of the world begs for intervention with their faces pressed to the window, watching us drink our coffee, unruffled by their suffering."

If this sounds like righteous judgement and condemnation from some hippy chick with bizarre ideas about how she is going to change the world by growing her own food and living in a tent, nothing could be further from the truth. Jen admits that she is on a journey with us, she doesn't have all the answers, and she includes plenty of stories about her lapses, bad attitudes, and justifications to prove it.

Her message is powerful and awesome. She has helped me see things in my own life with a new perspective without heaping on guilt or judgment.

I wish I could quote at least half the book on my blog post, but that would probably violate copyright and leave you with eye strain. So I'll leave you with this one, as well as a promise:

Never has so much wealth been so concentrated; our prosperity is unprecedented. If enough of us decided to share, we would unleash a torrent of justice to sweep away disparity, extreme poverty, and hopelessness. The world is waiting. Our kids are watching. Time is wasting. Are we willing?"

OK, here it is: If you read "Seven" and do not love it, I will buy it back from you. That is how much confidence I have in this book's message and the creative, humorous, and thought-provoking way Jen has written it. Give it a try and let me know what you think!

"Seven" is available at Barnes & Noble and www.amazon.com.

Who gives a pig as a Christmas gift?

What is the #1 question children are asked at this time of the year? Undoubtedly, it is this: "What is Santa Claus going to bring you for Christmas?" I understand that people are well-meaning when they ask my children this, but sometimes when I hear it, I have to grit my teeth so hard I think blood is going to flow out of my ears!

Don't get me wrong--we love presents at the Jarrell house! And although Jeff and I get all the credit for the gifts under the tree instead of Santa, our girls are otherwise remarkably similar to other children who are excited about Christmas. They circle every girl gift in the Target catalog (other catalogs are discreetly hidden in the recycle bin) and beg for toys advertised on TV. Many conversations center around their ever-growing Christmas gift list.

They shake presents to determine what might be inside. There is endless speculation about who will get a Rapunzel Barbie and who will receive Barbie at the beauty salon. They countdown the days until it's Christmas when they will FINALLY get to open their presents with unadulterated glee!

All this is fun!!! We believe that exchanging gifts is a symbol of God's gift of his Son. The memories we make on Christmas morning when the girls giddily rush down the stairs to open up their stocking and gifts is absolutely priceless.

But is "what are YOU going to be getting for Christmas?" the only question our children should be asked? Does this not feed right into their sense of entitlement and belief that the world revolves around them and that they are owed presents simply because they are totally awesome?

How about this one: "What are YOU giving Jesus for his birthday this year?" I think 99% of kids would look at any adult who asked them this a dumbfounded stare. This includes Mika and Macy, but we are working to change that.

We are trying to stress to the girls that since this is Jesus birthday, he should get some gifts that are meaningful to Him. When I asked the girls what they think Jesus would want for his birthday, they responded "worship and prayer." Actually, those are good answers that I hadn't really considered to be gifts to Jesus, but they most certainly are!

Regarding more "tangible" gifts for Jesus--those that can be touched and seen--our Savior has requested that we give to the least of these in his name. God's heartbeat for the poor, sick, orphans, outcasts, and oppressed can be found throughout scripture. The verses below demonstrate just how personally Jesus views our care and concern for others:

"Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?' The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'" (Matthew 25:37-40)

So, we have told the girls that they will receive three presents under the tree plus a few things in their stocking (we also bought a Wii as a family gift). The rest of the money that we have available for Christmas will be spent to buy gifts for Jesus.

You may think that spending money for gifts on anyone other than themselves is a real bummer for children, but Mika and Macy have really been excited about our focus on Jesus' birthday gifts. As Macy puts it, "this makes my heart feel good!" (from the mouths of babes...)

We love the gift catalogs (available in an online format, but hard copies work best for children) put out by various organizations. For example, in the World Vision catalog, you can purchase chickens, pigs, and cows (or shares of an animal) to be given as a gift to a needy family in the developing world in honor of a friend, family member, or teacher. International Justice Mission puts out a catalog showing how a gift can help train an investigator, free a slave, or provide aftercare for exploited children. There are many worthy organizations; here are just a few: http://www.ijm.org/ http://www.worldvision.org/ http://www.mercycorps.org/ http://www.miraclefoundation.org/

Visiting a lonely shut-in, delivering a meal, baking cookies for the neighbors, sending a Christmas card crafted by your children to an overseas missionary, donating a toy to Toys for Tots, and collecting food for the local food pantry are also gifts Jesus would love to receive!

To assure that Mika and Macy do not forget the gifts our family has given to Jesus, we write them on a slip of paper and place them in a special box. After we unwrap presents on Christmas morning, we open the box and read the gifts we have given to the King.

Of course, number #1 on Jesus' gift list is the same year after year. He has given His life for you; have you given him your heart?

"For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 6:23)

Have a blessed Christmas, everyone!

How we attract a crowd: A fire in our front yard!

21st century hospitality has been on my mind, and in the last post I shared some ideas on how to break free from CHAOS (Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome). It has occurred to me that for many people, the idea of hosting a sit-down meal might be biting off more than they could chew, so to speak.

So, I want to set the record straight: showing hospitality does NOT have to be a four-course meal, it does NOT have to take place at a your table, it does NOT have to include the entire family, and it does NOT necessarily require you to invite people inside your home.

Allow me to elaborate:

I was once a stay-at-home mom with a baby, a toddler, a mountain of laundry, and cheerios in my bra (if I was even wearing one). I would find a lonely stay-at-home mom--someone who had just left the working world, someone who was new to the area, or someone that just needed to escape her own house. I'd ask her to come over and bring her kids. She did not mind the mess; she was gratified that someone else lives the way she does. We let all the children run amok while I folded laundry and visited about ear infections and overpriced baby food. Kraft Mac 'n Cheese and milk was the lunch menu. By the time my friend left, we both felt better, the kids were tired from running around, and the pile of laundry was greatly diminished.

Jeff is a man who likes to home-brew beer. But instead of keeping the bounty for himself, he invites male friends over for beer-tasting. I leave for Barnes and Noble to drink a Frappuchino and read a scholarly periodical (People magazine) and Mika and Macy go to bed. Jeff sets out some chips, nuts, and some beer glasses. He invites random neighbors, co-workers, running buddies, and anyone else he think might enjoy a night out. One co-worker from India who had only been in the country a week showed up to our house with a huge smile on his face. He proclaimed Jeff "my first American friend!" Priceless.

What requires no menu, pre-planning, RSVPs, or ever a semi-clean house? A marshmallow roast in our cul-de-sac! This is how it goes down: We start a fire in our pit and set out some chairs. We raid our stock of graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate bars, and put them on a table with a pitcher of water and some plastic cups. The girls knock loudly on our friends' and neighbors' doors and invite them to congregate on our front lawn. Jeff sends out a text to friends with a simple message: "marshmallow roast." Everyone knows that means that they are welcome to come hang out with us in our front yard.

Our Golden Retrievers serve as the welcoming committee. There is no set arrival or departure time. People come and go at their leisure. They're welcome to invite others to come along. We encourage the kids to bring their bikes, balls, and skateboards so they can play in the cul-de-sac while the adults visit. We never know who will show up or how many--it is part of the fun. We may have a dozen people or we may have forty.

There is something magical about standing shoulder to shoulder with others on a chilly fall night while you gaze at marshmallows browning on an crackling open fire. The squeals and laughter of children playing tag coexist with easy conversation between old and new friends. People tend to relax and unwind as the skies grow dark and the moon and stars provide a glorious canopy for our informal gathering. There is no agenda; our only hope is that we communicate to each person, "we are so glad you are here to share this evening with us!"

A couple of hours before one of our roasts, I was probably tired and looking forward to a leisurely evening in front of the TV. Most likely, I reluctantly succumbed to the pleading of Macy, our extrovert, to host yet another marshmallow roast. But, by the time everyone heads home and the embers on the fire die down, I feel rejuvenated, connected, and without any regrets. The effort made by us is small, but the pay-off in terms of community is huge.

By the way, we live at 617 Ashford in Coppell; if you ever see a fire at the end of our cul-de-sac, don't call 911! Instead, please stop by to chat and enjoy a s'more! We look forward to meeting you!!!

the dreaded CHAOS syndrome

Ever heard of CHAOS? I became a victim of CHAOS soon after I started popping out babies. It stands for Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome.

Can't have anyone over because I haven't washed my hair in three days. Can't have anyone over because no one can see the carpet through all the toys. Can't have anyone over because I have nothing more creative to cook than chicken, stuffing, and cream of chicken soup thrown together in the crock pot. Can't have anyone over because my children will be loud and disruptive. Can't have anyone over because guests might spot the spiderwebs lurking in the corners of my vaulted ceiling. Can't have anyone over because I'm too tired, too busy, too cranky. I could go on and on...

When my girls were little, I occasionally mulled over the meaning of the Apostle Paul's exhortation in Romans to "practice hospitality." Then, I forgot about it and went to change another diaper or figure out which "little angel" managed to lob pink play-dough onto the ceiling fan. But, eventually, I begin to look into this Biblical notion of hospitality a little more. I was overwhelmed by the number of times homes were mentioned during the time of the early church, both as a meeting and eating place for believers, and as a tool to spread the gospel. "They (believers) broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts." (Acts 2:46). Hospitality was not supplemental for the discipleship of believers and spread of the gospel; it was foundational.

Jeff and I came to realize that even though we are introverts, even though we have young children, and even though our schedules seem full, we can carve out some occasional time to have people into our home. Perfection or anything approaching perfection is not required. Max Lucado, in his book "Outlive Your Life," said it best:

"If we wait until everything is perfect, we'll never issue an invitation. Remember this: what is common to you is a banquet to someone else. You think your house is small, but to the lonely heart, it is a castle. You think the living room is a mess, but to the person whose life is a mess, your house is a sanctuary. You think the meal is simple, but to those who eat alone every night, pork and beans on paper plates tastes like fillet mignon. What is small to you is huge to them. Open your table."

For us, the best time to host someone is lunch time on Sunday. This is because we attend church services on Sunday evening, leaving our Sunday mornings and afternoons free. People seem to be more available at this time because they work less and have fewer scheduled activities on Sunday. We have also had guests over for dinner during the week (especially Jeff's co-workers visiting from outside the country).

We don't have people every week--far from it. Sometimes we need some family "down" time, sometimes life gets too hectic, and sometimes plans fall through for a myriad of reasons. But we have become more intentional about opening our home.

Who do we invite? It is definitely anything goes, and we have moved far beyond our comfort zone and also acquired friendships, connections, and a richness to our family's life beyond anything we could have dreamed. We invite our neighbors, especially those we don't know well. We invite our friends and family. We invite people from church that we would like to know better. We invite the families of our children's school friends. We invite visiting missionaries. We have even invited families who we meet at the park for the first time on Sunday morning--next thing you know, they are sitting across the table from us, sharing a meal.

Together we have laughed, cried, shared, reminisced, and conversed on everything from the weather to life-and-death decisions. We have been blessed to learn about other cultures and faiths. We have achieved a knowing and an understanding of others that is impossible to replicate by exchanging status updates on Facebook, texting, or communicating by e-mail.

Mika and Macy have been taught that each guest that comes to our home is made in God's image and deserving of our honor and respect. They open the door to our guests and say, "Welcome to our home!" They have learned social, cultural, and spiritual lessons that cannot be acquired in a classroom. The girls have looked across the table and seen people of all ages, colors, abilities, walks of life, and backgrounds.

Don't get me wrong, things don't always go smoothly. Sometimes the meat is overcooked or the tablecloth is wrinkled and lopsided. Sometimes my girls spill milk or end up fighting over who they are going to sit next to (yes, it's embarrassing!) There are moments of strained silence and times when the noise level threatens to unhinge my eardrum. I've spotted a live bug in the corner of the dining room; don't know if our lunch buddies saw it or not (just keeping it real, folks).

But it is so worth it! What a blessing it has been to open our home and our table to others. I hope that, even if you are in the midst of CHAOS, you will consider giving it a try--I think you'll be glad you did!

"Facebook is an extension of my brain"

Will you tell me a secret? If not me, then is there someone in your life you can confide in when you need to? According to research, over the past two decades, the number of people who say they do not have a single person with whom they can discuss important matters has doubled.

Friends meeting together and sharing their lives has eroded as the media gadgets and technology available to stay connected with people all over the world has exploded. People with 500 Facebook "friends" and a stream of Twitter updates lighting up their phone often claim to fell lonely and isolated.

My younger friends tell me that telephone calls and even leaving a voicemail is intrusive and passe. One of my closest friends even told me that if I didn't start texting, she did not know how we could maintain our friendship. She detested talking to me on the phone. (I have joined the 21st century and have text capabilities now). A teen states, "Facebook is an extension of my brain." An eleven year old child warns, "if you don't text, you don't exist."

I am the first to say that technology can be a blessing! I am grateful for the ability to access my digital coupon list at the grocery store, study Spanish on my iPhone while I wait for the doctor, and view photos on Facebook of my friends' children and vacations. I have also learned how to sew an awesome pair of pants by watching a demonstration on YouTube.

Our family's livelihood depends on technology. My husband makes a living by helping to manage a website for American Airlines. Part of his and job is to do everything he can to get you to transact business on the AA.com website. Do you want to check on a flight arrival time?--website. Do you want to make a reservation?--website. Find your lost luggage?--website. Don't you even think about talking to a live ticket agent or customer service representative unless you are prepared to pay for it!

We can transact most of our business and communicate with our sphere of friends without ever seeing them in person or even hearing their voice. Is this the new normal? It seems that the perks of technology have come at the cost of personal human interaction. We've settled for a shallow relationship with hundreds of people and found it increasingly difficult to maintain (or begin) authentic relationships with even a few.

I am trying to learn how to reconcile the world of rapid-fire technological connections with the time and effort that must be put into lasting, satisfying, deep relationships. It is a constant struggle, and I don't have all the answers.

But I am convinced of one thing: no matter how much technology advances or how it increases our ability to be connected with others, we are hard-wired to have meaningful, face-to-face interactions with people. This is true regardless of the time and culture in which we live. In his book, Outlive your Life," Max Lucado agrees, and makes a suggestion to boot:

"Call us a fast society, an efficient society, but don't call us a personal society. Our society is set up for isolation. We wear ear buds when we exercise. We communicate vial e-mail and text messages. We enter and exit our houses with gates and garage-door openers. Our mantra: 'I leave you alone. You leave me alone.' Yet God wants his people to be an exception. Let everyone else go the way of computers and keyboards. God's children will be people of hospitality."

Hospitality? Huh? What does it mean for me and my family? Do I have to become Martha Stewart? Invest in some new table linens? Learn to cook beef wellington? No! Max Lucado states,

"Not everyone can serve in a foreign land, lead a relief effort, or volunteer at the downtown soup kitchen. But who can't be hospitable? Do you have a front door? A table? Chairs? Bread and meat for sandwiches? Congratulations! You just qualified to serve in the most ancient of ministries, hospitality..."

In my next post, I'll be talking about some ways our family has tried to grow in the area of hospitality, and also share how I was cured of CHAOS syndrome. Stay tuned...