Humble Pi

Pi imagined by my daughter, Ellie

At the time of writing this, it is 3/14/15 – Pi day of the century.

My kids and I had a lovely time spending Pi Day at Grand Traverse Pie Company. My 14-year old son recited pi here and there for strangers. There was even a contest for how many digits you could say in 15 seconds where the video had to be uploaded to @GTPie on twitter. AJ recorded a video, but in order to say as many digits as he knows, he had to go impossibly fast and still couldn’t say all he knows. (Recently, someone had counted about 135, so I knew it was quite a lot.) Still, it was fun. And yummy!

At home, I went out to twitter to see other entries but found very few. We did stumble across one that @GTPie had retweeted by “pi genius” Aaron Craft at Ohio State. Always excited to hear other people say pi, AJ listened to it with me. Aaron ended at 63 digits (and that is amazing, so Aaron deserves huge kudos.) I looked at AJ and he was nodding and smiling. “He should be really proud of himself! He did really well.”

I got all proud mama and said, “Let’s record it, too! You know more than that guy!”

He surprised me with a shrug and a “No thanks.”

Whoa. Wait. What?

I stepped back and wondered about his own nearly-double-the-number ability. He’s 14! Don’t kids this age live for the moments that they do something like this — something that can give a college man a run for his money? He was reciting it left and right at the Grand Traverse Pie Company. Stage fright? No. Not AJ. His speech teacher can verify that.

I asked him why he didn’t want to put up a video. He looked right at me and giving me a wise head tilt said, “That other guy did a great job and I don’t want to make him feel bad.”

Excuse me while I choke on the humble pie my son just force-fed me. Wow. My 14-year old son didn’t want to make a college man feel bad.  (And, as it turns out, now a professional basketball player.)

I checked myself and realized he was right: I wanted him to do it for the wrong reasons. AJ’s saying 120+ digits doesn’t come from a place of showing off. It comes from a love of the number pi and all things math. He tells people pi because he wants other people to love it and feel the way he feels when he says it. We have discussions about pi and the ramifications of random  and infinite things in the universe and that often leads us to the infinite nature of God.

I changed my heart, though. I ate the humble pi(e) and learned from it. I told him I wanted others to share in the joy of pi. And I do. In the end, he agreed to record himself saying 127 digits because as much as he loves pi, he also loves his mama.

Now, I share this with you, not just because he’s awesome, but because I want you to see the grin on his face while he’s doing this. I want other pi people to watch it and say, “Yes! There are more of us! Pi lovers: UNITE!”

This is the impossibly fast version. It has not been sped up.

Maybe you know someone else who loves pi. Let us know!

(side note #1: AJ actually prefers tau because Vi Sweet’s “Pi Is (still) Wrong” video was quite convincing.

side note #2: When I looked up Aaron Craft, I found out he’s a Christian. TheLantern.com has an article where Aaron is quoted, “That’s [Romans 5:8] the biggest thing that keeps me humble and keeps things in perspective for me.” Romans 5:8 reads, “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this; while we are still sinners, Christ died for us.” These two pi guys (AJ and Aaron) are like peas in a pod.)

The Golden Rule Reimagined

Luke 6:31

So the conversation started like this:

Me: “Why did you hit your sister?”
Son: “Because of ‘Do to others what you want them do to you.’”
Me: “You want her to hit you?”
Son: “No, she hit me first. Doesn’t that mean she wanted me to hit her back? I mean, if she’s doing to others what she wants done to her, then she must want to get hit.”

I have to admit, that’s a pretty great reimagining of Luke 6:31. Secretly, the revenge-seeker in me likes the idea that the Bible mandates hitting back. But I know that’s not what it means. So, I tried to explain to him that the Golden Rule didn’t work that way. “The verse is telling us how to treat other people up front, not how to react to them.” And, “You can’t control how another person behaves. You can only control yourself.”

I kept telling my son over and over that no matter how someone else is acting, you have to treat them the way you want to be treated. You can’t make someone be friendly. You can’t make someone show love. You can’t make other people do anything. However, you can be friendly to everyone, even the ones who are not. Because you can only control your own actions.

For some reason, no matter how I rephrased it over and over, he just couldn’t grasp the concept. “Why else would they do these things, if they didn’t want me to do it to them?”

“Because sometimes people are mean. Sometimes they make mistakes. People don’t always make good choices. They don’t always do the right thing. Because not everyone follows the Golden Rule.”

And then he had a lightbulb moment: “Do you mean that there are people that don’t do what the Bible says?”

Let that sink in for a moment.

My son, a scientist and mathematician, could not fathom that there are people who don’t try to follow the Bible’s teachings.

In all our years of parenting, we had continually taught our kids that there is a creator and he loves us and has set rules for us to be safe and live an awesome life. It was such a simple concept for our son to grasp that it never occurred to him that other people might not live the same way.

He understands the Golden Rule now, but I can’t help but wish we lived in a world where his reimagined version also applied because everyone followed God’s commands all the time. But then, I guess if everyone followed his commands, we wouldn’t need The Rule, would we?

Enough Faith, Already.

Luke 17:6

I am a woman of faith. I have to be or I would have fallen apart years ago. In the economic crash of ’06, my husband lost his job and we learned all about faith and trusting in the One Who Owns Everything. God used different people and programs to make sure we always had food and that the utility bills were paid – even our mortgage. In fact, he provided so perfectly, that on that year’s taxes we got a refund of $1. Yes. One dollar. We had exactly the amount we needed.

We had more upheaval and bounced from Illinois to Tennessee to Michigan in the space of 6 weeks. We used all our finances and eventually took a short sale on our house. We lived with my crazy-generous parents for a year and a half, invading their space and even adding another member to our little family. Pregnant? And jobless? Yes, but God still provided. My husband was offered a great job within a few weeks of finding out and the insurance covered my pregnancy.

Now here we are again. We moved across the country and after 9 months, found ourselves jobless again. And again, God is faithful. He is meeting our needs and we are living by faith and enjoying his blessings on us.

But in my prayers last night, I found myself whispering, I’m tired of having to live on faith. When is enough, enough? Immediately, I repented. It felt like an ungrateful thing to say to Jehovah Jireh after everything he’d done. I’m sorry, Lord. I don’t mind. Faith is good. I’m learning to depend on you. … And again, in the deepest part of my heart I heard a whisper, But can I live on something other than faith for a while…please?

I’m not sure I can even articulate what I mean but:

• I would like to buy AJ jeans that fit and not have to check the account balance first.
• I would like to take Ellie out for a smoothie when she does something awesome and not have to save up for a month for it.
• I would like to take Juli to the bakery for breakfast just because it’s fun to watch her eat a cinnamon roll bigger than her head and not have to wonder if that should be the only meal for me that day.
• I would like to go out for sushi once in a while with my sister and not make her pay.
• I would like to take my kids to Disney World while they are still young enough to enjoy the magic and not have to live on beans and rice for three years to make that happen.

Yes, it’s all very material of me. And yes, it all sounds so very shallow. I know by living in America, we are still wealthier than most. I am wearing my heart on my sleeve here. I know I’m am walking a fine line between vulnerability and whining, opening myself to huge criticism. Please understand that I am, in no way, ungrateful or underplaying how amazingly God has taken care of my family. But for some of us, living by faith is not easy and, while fulfilling, it can be an exhausting journey. (Like motherhood, come to think of it….)   So, mine is a first-world lament. I’ve been living by faith for so long for day-to-day needs and while I know God is providing the things we need, I’d like to enjoy some things we simply want.

I feel like an ungrateful heel even saying that.  I know amazing Christian folks who live by faith and still have enough to do fun things without worrying over every single penny. Their faith is not expressed by saying, “I know God will somehow provide our food this week,” but by saying, “I don’t have it, but I will give $500 a month to missions and have faith that God will provide it.” I want to look at the Christmas Giving Tree in the church lobby and pick the $500 card instead of trusting God to help us with the $5 gift.

Sure, the widow had more faith than the rich in giving her mites but I’d settle for a mere half a mustard seed worth and the ability to affect greater change in the lives of others while not worrying about my own family’s basic needs. It is exhausting.

I don’t want to spend foolishly.
I don’t want to buy my kids every new electronic device on the market so they can be like their friends.
I don’t want to take it all to Las Vegas and triple it on one Texas Hold ‘em hand.

I want to be the one God uses to bless other people like he’s done for us. But honestly, I just want to not think about money for a while. I just want to relax…

…and not hear that whiner in my heart sighing, Enough faith, already.

3 Things I’m Learning about Hearing God’s Voice

Bent, not broken.

When we first considered moving our family of five from Grand Rapids, Michigan, to Lynden, Washington, I had huge concerns. We knew no one out there. We’d be leaving all my family and our kids’ friends and starting over 2,500 miles away. Away from everything known, everything safe, everything comfortable. And not only would it take every dime we had to make it happen—we actually borrowed against my husband’s future earnings to help pay for the move.

So, I prayed. A lot. I prayed for guidance. Peace. Clarity. When I was done praying, I prayed some more.

The thing is, as Christians we know we must listen to God, but we aren’t given clear instructions on what he sound like when he answers.

“A still, small voice.”
“A whisper in your heart.”
“Thunder.”
“A really strong feeling.”
“There are no coincidences; it’s God opening and closing doors.”

Or my favorite, “You’ll know it when you hear it.”

But do we? Do I?

I asked God to be clear about whether we should move or not. After, I felt peace where before anxiety gripped me so hard, I could hardly breathe. The still small voice said, “Trust me.” The whisper in my heart said, “Do not worry.” Then it rained and thundered for six days—and our basement flooded!  And then doors miraculously opened. And somehow, I just knew. I accepted the decision.

I thought it was God. My husband thought it was God. My family thought it was God. And so we moved our little family across the country and away from everything we knew.

Now, ten months and one day later, my husband has been fired from one of the most stressful jobs I’ve ever seen him in. I had watched him arrive home miserable every day for 10 months and I couldn’t remember ever seeing his other jobs cause that frame of mind.  And when I would ask God if there was something else that we should be doing, I was only ever reminded in my heart how many doors opened easily to get us here. But I was never told to do anything other than simply be here.

Now we are left jobless—yet for the first time in months, my husband is relaxed. We are happy and trusting God to provide. But still, I wonder… what was the point?

Was it to meet the few friends we did, when in all likelihood we will have to leave them soon?

Was it to live alone as a family of five and not depend on extended family for entertainment?

Was it for Rich to find his biological mother?

What I’m left with is the question so many of us have at some point: Did I “hear” God in this, or was it just me and my imagination? Or worse, was I hearing the sweetened words of the deceiver? Oh, no! We can’t admit that we might be fooled by him or we are thought to be bad Christians. After all, “If you’d read the Bible more or prayed more you wouldn’t have been fooled.”

So now, as we pray for guidance on the next part of this journey, I find myself wondering again if I’m hearing God. I’m second-guessing that still, small voice. And then I recognize that as the deceiver at work, trying to make me question God. And then I remember that the last time I listened to “God’s voice” we ended up here and maybe I should be more careful.

And my thoughts spiral around-and-around until I can’t figure out what voice to trust.

So, how do I hear from God – and know it’s Him? Here are three things I’ve concluded as I work through this:

First, I have to be honest with myself and with God: God, I don’t know if what I’m hearing is you or me. And I’m not going to pretend I do. Please help me discern the difference.

Second, I must remember the Bible is God’s word to me. Not just to mankind, but to me, Jennifer. So I should make sure when I hear the still small voice it can be backed up in scripture.

Third, my job is to walk in faith. I must exercise faith and trust that even if I mistake his voice or cannot hear him, God still loves me and is with me. And remind myself that God knows his own plans for me and he is bigger than any mistake I make.

I still don’t know if this move was divinely orchestrated or if we made a poor decision based on our own mistaking God’s voice. But I have faith that even if I can’t hear him, he has this under control and so I choose to trust him.

Sometimes that’s the best we can do.