As I considered starting this blog, I wanted to choose a name that gave a clear image of my intent. I want to be a blessing in the hearts and lives of others and felt that my desire to write allowed for this opportunity, so "Blogging to Bless" was an obvious selection to me. What was not so obvious, was how blessed I would be by this blog in return.
Let me first say thank you to those who have offered their loving encouragement. I don't write for self-gratification, though it is one of the most satisfying activities for me. I truly want my writing to be an encouragement to others to grow in their faith in Christ and to be a testament to those who don't yet know Him as their Savior. So to those of you who have offered their thoughts and comments, thank you for reminding me why I am doing this.
This blog has been a blessing to me because it is requiring of me some serious self-examination of why I believe what I believe, how I got here, and how far I have yet to go. It has helped me hold myself more accountable for my day to day actions and witness. But the biggest blessing came yesterday from my friend Lisa. I always share a link to my blog on Facebook after I make a new post. Yesterday I shared the link to my post "I Am Your Servant." Lisa posted on my Facebook page the following: "I could go on forever, but I will just say how crazy and awesome it is that I googled "servant's heart" this morning, hoping for guidance and seriously thinking of you and one other person at church who set such an example for me and others. This is something I am working on, and you hit on so much that I thought and prayed about this morning. Awesome."
It is awesome! God works in such wonderful intricate and intimate ways in our lives. I didn't know why I was inspired to post that blog yesterday, but God knew it would be an answer to Lisa's prayers. When we start handing our lives over to Him (and believe me, I am still working on that), we start seeing Him revealed to us on a regular basis. I just can not stop marveling at His good work yesterday. To some it may seem coincidental, to others a small work, but I just see so much glory in it. First, that He is faithful to us when we pray. Second, that His word does not return void. Third, that serving Him just leads us closer to Him.
I have had my moments of shaken faith and doubt, but I hold fast to my God because He continues to do good work in me. I feel so blessed that God has revealed Himself to me and His intimate design for my life so many times- in my cousin Matthew, my husband Jonathan, the postcard, my children, and now this. He knows that we live in a troubled world and that we need a restoration of faith regularly. We get this through serving Him. There is no time that I feel closer to Him and know His truths more certainly.
If you are struggling to know God, to feel Him in your life; if you feel like you have sought and not found; if you wonder why He has not revealed Himself to you, serve Him. Taste and see that the Lord is good! Try out His love, not by basking in it, but by using what he freely gives to love on others and you will begin to see how great is my God.
I think too often we take credit for the good we do and forget God's hand in it. When we do that, we miss His revelations in our life. We hit the disconnect button and distance ourself from Him. What happened yesterday wasn't because of me. It was because of God. He heard Lisa faithfully looking to Him for guidance and He didn't let the prayer go unanswered. I thank God that He blessed me with the opportunity to be the tool to answer someone's prayer. Do you know you have that opportunity too? Just look around you. Someone is praying for a sign of love right now. Do you know who it might be? Someone is in desperate need of some encouragement. Are you too hurried to offer a kind word? Someone is in physical need. Are you passing them by? Take the time to stop and be the answer to a prayer today. I tell you it is far greater than having your own prayer answered.
My heart is blessed.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
I Am Your Servant
"Because I am not your servant, that's why!" I angrily told Colette one day after she claimed "convenient dependence," as I like to call it, when she wanted help with something she was quite capable of doing on her own. She has this handy knack of falling to the floor in helpless despair at the request of the simplest task like putting on her shoes. Suddenly my totally independent when-she-wants-to-be 3 year old, needs Mommy's help at the most inopportune time. But my response that day struck me in a way that has made me never repeat it again.
Am I not her servant? And my husband's? And yours too? And why should I resent so much this blessing of position that God has given me. Not every woman has the opportunity to serve a husband or children.
Please, don't misunderstand me. I am an advocate for raising children who are healthfully independent. I take opportunity in reinforcing to Colette during her moments of Mommy-inherited stubbornness that I only ask because she is capable of doing or learning. There have been days of half-hour long silent battles (on my part- she compensates for me in the noise department) where Mommy refuses to put her socks on for her. But to retaliate by claiming not to be her servant is simply a lie. A mother is in service to her children and to deny that does the child a disservice.
There is a certain mundaneness to motherhood that wears on the soul- the spilled cup of milk on the freshly mopped floor, the next meal already being planned for as you are cleaning up the last one, the battle that comes with every request to pick up toys, the hourly need for a reminder that there is a better way to ask for help and a gentler way to treat your sister. Too often I am disappointed by the lack of glamour in what I do.
It is not that I am looking for a constant thank you and heartfelt appreciation. What I lack is actually self-recognition for the good that I do. As a Christian, I have always struggled with serving God in the small things. I tend to deem those in blatant need (poor, starving, ailing) as the ones I am to serve, forgetting that God places in front of me everyday opportunity to serve Him in a way that may go unnoticed by the rest of the world. If I fail Him in these opportunities, I will also miss the opportunity to serve in a grander way. "Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much..." Luke 16:10
God entrusts me everyday with my children and my husband and those I encounter. If I take lightly my service to them, how then can I expect to serve the hungry, the poor and the ailing? If I have failed to replicate the love of Christ to my children and my husband, my love for others will fail. 1 Timothy 5:8 says that "if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for his immediate family, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever."
Now, I do believe we can become dangerously over-committed to our households. If I shirk every opportunity to serve someone in love at the justification that my family needs me first, then I fail to show them an active love in Christ. I also risk becoming lazy in my service to Christ and his Kingdom, when my clean kitchen floor becomes more important than my neighbor who needs some loving comforts in a time of need.
It is a struggle to feel like I am doing something overtly "christian" when I am wiping someone's bum (forgive me) for the tenth time in a day. But if I were to deny my service to my children, I could not stand a faithful witness to them of God's love for them. We all face the mundane in our world and it is easy to get caught up in the complacency of what needs to be done. It is even easier to forget that in all we do, we are to do it in service to the Lord.
One day while checking out at Kroger, the cashier launched into a story about how she was in need of a winter coat and stumbled upon the perfect one at a Salvation Army. I grew uncomfortable at the line behind me as she told me the coat was made for her- the perfect color and fit! "Isn't the Lord good?" she proclaimed. I nodded. She went on to tell me how He supplies our every need when we are faithful to Him. And then she told me about her church. I had never seen her before. I have never seen her again. This was years ago. But I know her name was Jacqueline and I will always remember her as one who remembered to serve her Lord even as a cashier at Kroger.
As we go about our day, we should remember to accept our position as servants, no matter what title this world has given us. We all have an opportunity to lovingly serve others in the manner that Jesus served us. It requires some humbling and some sacrifice, but we gain much from these small opportunities.
Am I not her servant? And my husband's? And yours too? And why should I resent so much this blessing of position that God has given me. Not every woman has the opportunity to serve a husband or children.
Please, don't misunderstand me. I am an advocate for raising children who are healthfully independent. I take opportunity in reinforcing to Colette during her moments of Mommy-inherited stubbornness that I only ask because she is capable of doing or learning. There have been days of half-hour long silent battles (on my part- she compensates for me in the noise department) where Mommy refuses to put her socks on for her. But to retaliate by claiming not to be her servant is simply a lie. A mother is in service to her children and to deny that does the child a disservice.
There is a certain mundaneness to motherhood that wears on the soul- the spilled cup of milk on the freshly mopped floor, the next meal already being planned for as you are cleaning up the last one, the battle that comes with every request to pick up toys, the hourly need for a reminder that there is a better way to ask for help and a gentler way to treat your sister. Too often I am disappointed by the lack of glamour in what I do.
It is not that I am looking for a constant thank you and heartfelt appreciation. What I lack is actually self-recognition for the good that I do. As a Christian, I have always struggled with serving God in the small things. I tend to deem those in blatant need (poor, starving, ailing) as the ones I am to serve, forgetting that God places in front of me everyday opportunity to serve Him in a way that may go unnoticed by the rest of the world. If I fail Him in these opportunities, I will also miss the opportunity to serve in a grander way. "Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much..." Luke 16:10
God entrusts me everyday with my children and my husband and those I encounter. If I take lightly my service to them, how then can I expect to serve the hungry, the poor and the ailing? If I have failed to replicate the love of Christ to my children and my husband, my love for others will fail. 1 Timothy 5:8 says that "if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for his immediate family, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever."
Now, I do believe we can become dangerously over-committed to our households. If I shirk every opportunity to serve someone in love at the justification that my family needs me first, then I fail to show them an active love in Christ. I also risk becoming lazy in my service to Christ and his Kingdom, when my clean kitchen floor becomes more important than my neighbor who needs some loving comforts in a time of need.
It is a struggle to feel like I am doing something overtly "christian" when I am wiping someone's bum (forgive me) for the tenth time in a day. But if I were to deny my service to my children, I could not stand a faithful witness to them of God's love for them. We all face the mundane in our world and it is easy to get caught up in the complacency of what needs to be done. It is even easier to forget that in all we do, we are to do it in service to the Lord.
One day while checking out at Kroger, the cashier launched into a story about how she was in need of a winter coat and stumbled upon the perfect one at a Salvation Army. I grew uncomfortable at the line behind me as she told me the coat was made for her- the perfect color and fit! "Isn't the Lord good?" she proclaimed. I nodded. She went on to tell me how He supplies our every need when we are faithful to Him. And then she told me about her church. I had never seen her before. I have never seen her again. This was years ago. But I know her name was Jacqueline and I will always remember her as one who remembered to serve her Lord even as a cashier at Kroger.
As we go about our day, we should remember to accept our position as servants, no matter what title this world has given us. We all have an opportunity to lovingly serve others in the manner that Jesus served us. It requires some humbling and some sacrifice, but we gain much from these small opportunities.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Confessions of a Hypocritical Christian
On my last blog entry I received a comment from an anonymous reader who saw my post as evidence of my being "true to my faith." In the open discussion that we had it was stated that I was not hypocritical because I willingly admitted that I had faults. The comment has lead to much round the clock thought for me. So much in one comment has left me with enough material for a series of blogging, which is why I encourage you to share your thoughts as this reader did.
So what have I been thinking? Truthfully, it has been how much of a hypocrite I am and how much we all are. It seems parenting has caused me to walk the path of hypocrisy more frequently. I suppose it is because I see so much potential in my children to be better than I am. I try to encourage them to make better decisions than I did and do. If they do what I tell them to do, and not watch what I do, they will be fine. Even now I see the failure looming ahead in that philosophy.
Colette, my 3 1/2 year old, seems to be the world's slowest child, born of an admittedly impatient mother, who had prayed for years that God grant her the gift of patience. His answer to my prayer? Colette, an opportunity to exercise patience on a very regular basis. When Colette steps in a doorway she must observe from the doorway the entire room before taking another step. She is unaware that the door is being held by my foot as I juggle grocery bags and a 20 pound child in my other arm, my purse sliding down my arm and catching on the doorknob. I shout, "Move! Move!" Sometimes I have to nudge her with the knee of my free leg. She is always baffled by this and proclaims, "I am!" It's no wonder at lunch she taps the table impatiently and whines, "I don't have a drink yet!" Half of her lunch is gone and I have not even prepared mine as I say, "Mommy's working on it! You need to be patient!" It's ugly, I know.
Colette has not learned patience from me. I have failed her in becoming better than myself in that area and there are so many others. I want her to be patient. We talk about the virtues of being patient, but they are the words of a hypocrite. On the days that I am more conscious, I make apologies to her for being impatient, or forewarn her when Mommy is getting impatient with some of her antics. But most days I think I find my demands reasonable in my mind.
A hypocrite is a person who acts in contradiction to his or her stated beliefs and feelings. I am not saving myself the hypocrite label by stating or embracing my faults. If I know those faults to be bad and I believe I should be living otherwise, yet continue to succumb to that fault, I am a hypocrite. I am a hypocrite. Aren't we all?
I think the heart of the matter of hypocrisy is when does it take from the truth? For instance, if someone warns you to never start smoking as it is an awful habit; dangerous to your health, expensive and addictive, as they light up their Marlboro, does it at all negate what was just stated? A truth was spoken that can't be denied. It is dangerous to your health, expensive in almost every scenario, and extremely addictive. Perhaps the effect of that truth has been diminished to a degree, but the truth about smoking still stands.
So it is with the truths of Christianity when we warn against the dangers of greed as we hold back on helping those in need and shake our fist in the face of hate and forget to look in the mirror at our inability to love our neighbor as ourself. We know these things to be true, but if we preach it and do not live it, the weight of the truth is lost. The truth itself remains, but our effect is diminished. We can not preach the truth of Christ and lead unbelievers to Him, by living hate. But the truth of Christ and everyone's need for Him still stands, even in our hypocrisy.
I have been thinking a lot about Christianity and how it is, in my experience, the most oft-labeled religion of hypocrisy. Why is that? There is no single man who ever followed any religion to perfection (aside from Jesus Christ and that's another whole series of blog entries). So why do Christians get written off as hypocrites so often? The answer I searched for is what delayed this blog entry because it took me a long time to reason it out. I hope that my thoughts on this will generate additional thoughts on your part as I do not claim to know the answer, but this is what I figured.
I thought about Paul a lot. Was he not the first self-proclaimed Christian hypocrite? "I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do." Romans 7:15 So from the start, have we Christians been doomed to hypocrisy? Paul was stating what we all struggle with Christian or not. Just ask anyone who has ever dieted. They do not really want to eat that piece of cheesecake, so why do they? It is a battle of temptation and we sinners face it everyday.
I think that Christians are labeled hypocrites because we firmly proclaim our inheritance in Heaven in the midst of our very visible sin. To the non-believing world, a world that strives for equality and justice, the hypocrisy seems so evident. We don't deserve Heaven! We are adulterers, murderers, cheaters, and liars that want to lead the lost to our God. To the non-believer we are taking another puff of our sin and blowing out smoke as we proclaim the way to Heaven. They have already stopped listening before we get to Jesus. Our world has taught us that we get what we deserve, so when we proclaim Heaven, it is apparent that something doesn't mesh.
It is tough being a Christian. I don't want to deny my sin, but I don't want to embrace it. I want to fight the good fight for the battle against the temptations of this world that await me every morning. But it is not just an internal battle, but a battle against what the rest of the world views me as. In order to point them to Christ, I have to be clear in accepting my ever-present need for Him. It is easy for me to tell you that I am a sinner, because it is the only way Christ makes sense. If I wasn't a sinner, I wouldn't need Him. We are all hypocrites in need of saving everyday.
So what have I been thinking? Truthfully, it has been how much of a hypocrite I am and how much we all are. It seems parenting has caused me to walk the path of hypocrisy more frequently. I suppose it is because I see so much potential in my children to be better than I am. I try to encourage them to make better decisions than I did and do. If they do what I tell them to do, and not watch what I do, they will be fine. Even now I see the failure looming ahead in that philosophy.
Colette, my 3 1/2 year old, seems to be the world's slowest child, born of an admittedly impatient mother, who had prayed for years that God grant her the gift of patience. His answer to my prayer? Colette, an opportunity to exercise patience on a very regular basis. When Colette steps in a doorway she must observe from the doorway the entire room before taking another step. She is unaware that the door is being held by my foot as I juggle grocery bags and a 20 pound child in my other arm, my purse sliding down my arm and catching on the doorknob. I shout, "Move! Move!" Sometimes I have to nudge her with the knee of my free leg. She is always baffled by this and proclaims, "I am!" It's no wonder at lunch she taps the table impatiently and whines, "I don't have a drink yet!" Half of her lunch is gone and I have not even prepared mine as I say, "Mommy's working on it! You need to be patient!" It's ugly, I know.
Colette has not learned patience from me. I have failed her in becoming better than myself in that area and there are so many others. I want her to be patient. We talk about the virtues of being patient, but they are the words of a hypocrite. On the days that I am more conscious, I make apologies to her for being impatient, or forewarn her when Mommy is getting impatient with some of her antics. But most days I think I find my demands reasonable in my mind.
A hypocrite is a person who acts in contradiction to his or her stated beliefs and feelings. I am not saving myself the hypocrite label by stating or embracing my faults. If I know those faults to be bad and I believe I should be living otherwise, yet continue to succumb to that fault, I am a hypocrite. I am a hypocrite. Aren't we all?
I think the heart of the matter of hypocrisy is when does it take from the truth? For instance, if someone warns you to never start smoking as it is an awful habit; dangerous to your health, expensive and addictive, as they light up their Marlboro, does it at all negate what was just stated? A truth was spoken that can't be denied. It is dangerous to your health, expensive in almost every scenario, and extremely addictive. Perhaps the effect of that truth has been diminished to a degree, but the truth about smoking still stands.
So it is with the truths of Christianity when we warn against the dangers of greed as we hold back on helping those in need and shake our fist in the face of hate and forget to look in the mirror at our inability to love our neighbor as ourself. We know these things to be true, but if we preach it and do not live it, the weight of the truth is lost. The truth itself remains, but our effect is diminished. We can not preach the truth of Christ and lead unbelievers to Him, by living hate. But the truth of Christ and everyone's need for Him still stands, even in our hypocrisy.
I have been thinking a lot about Christianity and how it is, in my experience, the most oft-labeled religion of hypocrisy. Why is that? There is no single man who ever followed any religion to perfection (aside from Jesus Christ and that's another whole series of blog entries). So why do Christians get written off as hypocrites so often? The answer I searched for is what delayed this blog entry because it took me a long time to reason it out. I hope that my thoughts on this will generate additional thoughts on your part as I do not claim to know the answer, but this is what I figured.
I thought about Paul a lot. Was he not the first self-proclaimed Christian hypocrite? "I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do." Romans 7:15 So from the start, have we Christians been doomed to hypocrisy? Paul was stating what we all struggle with Christian or not. Just ask anyone who has ever dieted. They do not really want to eat that piece of cheesecake, so why do they? It is a battle of temptation and we sinners face it everyday.
I think that Christians are labeled hypocrites because we firmly proclaim our inheritance in Heaven in the midst of our very visible sin. To the non-believing world, a world that strives for equality and justice, the hypocrisy seems so evident. We don't deserve Heaven! We are adulterers, murderers, cheaters, and liars that want to lead the lost to our God. To the non-believer we are taking another puff of our sin and blowing out smoke as we proclaim the way to Heaven. They have already stopped listening before we get to Jesus. Our world has taught us that we get what we deserve, so when we proclaim Heaven, it is apparent that something doesn't mesh.
It is tough being a Christian. I don't want to deny my sin, but I don't want to embrace it. I want to fight the good fight for the battle against the temptations of this world that await me every morning. But it is not just an internal battle, but a battle against what the rest of the world views me as. In order to point them to Christ, I have to be clear in accepting my ever-present need for Him. It is easy for me to tell you that I am a sinner, because it is the only way Christ makes sense. If I wasn't a sinner, I wouldn't need Him. We are all hypocrites in need of saving everyday.
Monday, September 13, 2010
The Offerings of a Three Year Old
This is a post I made on Facebook a couple of months ago, so some of you have already seen it, but I think it is a valuable lesson and reminder to us all of how lucky we are.
Through her Sunday School Colette has been collecting money for the children in Haiti. For each new day we say a prayer as we place a quarter in the box and add a nickel every time we eat something. Although we have talked about the children several times, it was not until today that it really made an impact.
We received an informational packet in the mail with pictures of a particular suffering family. Colette stared at the pictures with such a sober look. "Where are their clothes?" she asked. I explained that they don't have much to wear and sometimes they don't wear anything at all. "Don't they get cold?" she asked. I tell her yes and she stares at me for a long time, processing. Then she nods her head and looks at the picture more. She flips from one page to another.
We look at a picture of their shack and I explain that their house is much smaller than our house and everyone probably sleeps in the same bed. We count the children who live there. There are 5. "Maybe just two kids sleep in each bed," she wonders aloud. I tell her that they all sleep in the same room and it is very likely all in the same bed. She goes back to staring.
After awhile of silence, she stands up. I figure her attention span for the topic is exhausted and I am ready for her to move on too. It is hard to see a three year old burdened with the worries of the world. But then I see her raise her arms above her head slowly, then her arms out to the side, and her hips start to sway. "I'm dancing for them, Mommy," she tells me. "Who, Honey?" I ask. "The kids without any food," she says. My heart is heavy with pride and sorrow. I watch her little body move in very serious motions so unlike our usual "Dance Party" dancing.
"Do they have toys?" It's been at least 15 minutes of discussion- longer than most topics last in our house. I figure she is segueing to playing. "No, Honey, no toys," I say and I tell her how any money they get has to buy food because food is more important than toys. She is busying herself in her toy kitchen now. I begin to clean up lunch dishes in my own kitchen and surveying all of my "stuff" with guilt. Minutes later Colette runs over to me with a big smile on her face. "I made dinner!" she proclaims. I need her sunshine now. "Guess who it's for?" she asks. It's almost always for me. This time it was for "the kids, Mommy, without any food." I hug her and tell her she is a very nice girl.
It is time for Mary to take a nap. Colette always insists on being upstairs when I am so we go up the stairs, carrying the new shoes we bought that morning. It begs the question, "Do they have shoes, Mommy?" It's getting harder to answer these questions without crying. "They don't," I say. Suddenly Mary's new dressy shoes seem frivolous to add to her collection of sandals and tennis shoes. Three pairs.
I help Colette on the potty and she asks where "the kids" go potty. Usually potty conversations are a hot topic in our household because it's so taboo. We're not allowed to talk about potty stuff unless we are on the potty. Today, it is different. She needs to know and I tell her. It's not pleasant. She takes it in with wide eyes and nods. My lip is quivering and she hugs me when she gets off the potty.
I dop Colette off at her room to play while I nurse Mary and get her to go to sleep. It is hard to turn my thoughts to anything other than those children with their dark faces and large eyes. I think about how for that mother her children may be her only source of joy and yet must bring her so much sorrow when she can not provide for them. I ache for her.
When I come out of Mary's room, Colette is not in her bedroom. I search the upstairs and then come down to find Colette coloring at the kitchen counter. I am surprised to see her here because she is usually so fearful of being somewhere other than where I am. She has several different pieces of scrap paper out and she has colored on each one. "There is a different color on each one!" she says proudly, "Do you know who these pictures are for?" I know the answer, but I don't want to lead her so I shake my head no.
"It's for the kids, Mom, without any food."
Colette is napping now. We said a prayer for "the kids" and I asked God to keep reminding us of how lucky we are because we so often forget. I don't know if she is asleep but she's very quiet. And I am just thinking. I've been thinking about how my little girl offered up everything she had today in love to these children. She didn't think out what effect her actions might have on those kids; she simply did what she could. The beautiful thing is though Colette didn't have money to give them, what she did is move me and I have that ability to really change lives, beyond a quarter a day.
What I am saying is- when we make an offering in love, regardless of what it is or how unhelpful or lacking it may seem, God turns it into a blessing for others. And I'm hoping that you will think about that today. What offerings of love can you make today to be a blessing in the hearts and lives of others?
We received an informational packet in the mail with pictures of a particular suffering family. Colette stared at the pictures with such a sober look. "Where are their clothes?" she asked. I explained that they don't have much to wear and sometimes they don't wear anything at all. "Don't they get cold?" she asked. I tell her yes and she stares at me for a long time, processing. Then she nods her head and looks at the picture more. She flips from one page to another.
We look at a picture of their shack and I explain that their house is much smaller than our house and everyone probably sleeps in the same bed. We count the children who live there. There are 5. "Maybe just two kids sleep in each bed," she wonders aloud. I tell her that they all sleep in the same room and it is very likely all in the same bed. She goes back to staring.
After awhile of silence, she stands up. I figure her attention span for the topic is exhausted and I am ready for her to move on too. It is hard to see a three year old burdened with the worries of the world. But then I see her raise her arms above her head slowly, then her arms out to the side, and her hips start to sway. "I'm dancing for them, Mommy," she tells me. "Who, Honey?" I ask. "The kids without any food," she says. My heart is heavy with pride and sorrow. I watch her little body move in very serious motions so unlike our usual "Dance Party" dancing.
"Do they have toys?" It's been at least 15 minutes of discussion- longer than most topics last in our house. I figure she is segueing to playing. "No, Honey, no toys," I say and I tell her how any money they get has to buy food because food is more important than toys. She is busying herself in her toy kitchen now. I begin to clean up lunch dishes in my own kitchen and surveying all of my "stuff" with guilt. Minutes later Colette runs over to me with a big smile on her face. "I made dinner!" she proclaims. I need her sunshine now. "Guess who it's for?" she asks. It's almost always for me. This time it was for "the kids, Mommy, without any food." I hug her and tell her she is a very nice girl.
It is time for Mary to take a nap. Colette always insists on being upstairs when I am so we go up the stairs, carrying the new shoes we bought that morning. It begs the question, "Do they have shoes, Mommy?" It's getting harder to answer these questions without crying. "They don't," I say. Suddenly Mary's new dressy shoes seem frivolous to add to her collection of sandals and tennis shoes. Three pairs.
I help Colette on the potty and she asks where "the kids" go potty. Usually potty conversations are a hot topic in our household because it's so taboo. We're not allowed to talk about potty stuff unless we are on the potty. Today, it is different. She needs to know and I tell her. It's not pleasant. She takes it in with wide eyes and nods. My lip is quivering and she hugs me when she gets off the potty.
I dop Colette off at her room to play while I nurse Mary and get her to go to sleep. It is hard to turn my thoughts to anything other than those children with their dark faces and large eyes. I think about how for that mother her children may be her only source of joy and yet must bring her so much sorrow when she can not provide for them. I ache for her.
When I come out of Mary's room, Colette is not in her bedroom. I search the upstairs and then come down to find Colette coloring at the kitchen counter. I am surprised to see her here because she is usually so fearful of being somewhere other than where I am. She has several different pieces of scrap paper out and she has colored on each one. "There is a different color on each one!" she says proudly, "Do you know who these pictures are for?" I know the answer, but I don't want to lead her so I shake my head no.
"It's for the kids, Mom, without any food."
Colette is napping now. We said a prayer for "the kids" and I asked God to keep reminding us of how lucky we are because we so often forget. I don't know if she is asleep but she's very quiet. And I am just thinking. I've been thinking about how my little girl offered up everything she had today in love to these children. She didn't think out what effect her actions might have on those kids; she simply did what she could. The beautiful thing is though Colette didn't have money to give them, what she did is move me and I have that ability to really change lives, beyond a quarter a day.
What I am saying is- when we make an offering in love, regardless of what it is or how unhelpful or lacking it may seem, God turns it into a blessing for others. And I'm hoping that you will think about that today. What offerings of love can you make today to be a blessing in the hearts and lives of others?
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Who Am I? Part 4 Craig
Five years ago today the weather was quite different than this rainy day we are experiencing. It was a Friday, bright and sunny. I remember driving to work with the windows down and good music on the radio, looking forward to some rest and relaxation that Labor Day weekend. It was only natural that Craig would be out on his motorcycle in such nice weather, as it was one of the things he loved most in life.
Now, I'm not sure how much this blog entry might bless the hearts of those that did not know him, but today I write for those who are remembering Craig. He was my husband's best friend since kindergarten and became one of my closest friends as well. It was an honor that Craig served as the Best Man in our wedding. Craig was just a great guy, the kind of friend that wives want their husbands to have. I didn't have to worry about what Jon was doing when he was out with Craig- it was always clean-cut fun.
One of the things I most enjoyed about Craig was the boyish joy he and my husband shared together. They were both RC (radio-controlled) car enthusiasts with a competitive nature that got quite expensive. They spent many Saturday mornings filling up on a large breakfast at my apartment and then heading off to race on a dirt track. There is something really sweet about grown men on a dirty track playing with... well... toys, so I often spent my Saturday mornings there watching them.
Craig was raised Catholic, but as many youths do, he had fallen away from church attendance and teachings. Meanwhile, Jon and I were exploring deeper into sharing our Christian faith. We had started a Bible Study that we held in our apartment every Wednesday evening, with the attraction of a home-cooked meal, to make inviting friends easier. We had never invited Craig. So often I have found that I have doubted God's capabilities of reaching out to hearts that are so much more willing to hear than I have thought them to be.
One Wednesday as several of us were just sitting down to dinner, one of the attendants, Nikki, received a phone call from Craig. She told him she was having dinner at our house and that he should come over. She never mentioned a Bible Study. I panicked that Craig was going to feel "tricked" into coming to a Bible study and would feel uneasy, yet obligated to stay. At my urging, Nikki called him back and "warned" him of what he was walking into. By the time she had called him back, he was already in the parking lot, undoubtedly because free food was being offered.
He stayed for Bible study and made no indication of being uncomfortable. He participated a lot in the discussion, with many objections. It was clear that Craig had been struggling with the truths of the Bible and was wondering if it could be the infallible word of God. When he left, Jon and I prayed for him and that God would wipe away his doubts and renew his faith. The following week we apprehensively invited him and he came. Craig was entirely different this time, even proclaiming at one point, "That's the cool thing about the Bible!"
From that time on, Craig regularly attended our Bible study and we had the pleasure of watching his faith grow so much in that little time. I remember him telling me, "Katie, I'm so happy now."
I do not know why five years ago today Craig was in a motorcycle accident that took his life. I do know why he called Nikki that night of our Bible study. Simply put, I had a lot of plans for Craig that God did not. I had planned on Craig marrying a wonderful girl that I would approve of, having children that would grow up with mine, and my children adoring him as much as I did. God's plan for Craig that night was to renew his faith and give us all an assurance of where he is today, in the loving arms of His God. If Craig had died before attending our Bible study my pain today would be much different. I would not have this certainty of Craig smiling down on us as we remember him today and always, and looking forward to the day when we are reunited in Heaven.
Now, I'm not sure how much this blog entry might bless the hearts of those that did not know him, but today I write for those who are remembering Craig. He was my husband's best friend since kindergarten and became one of my closest friends as well. It was an honor that Craig served as the Best Man in our wedding. Craig was just a great guy, the kind of friend that wives want their husbands to have. I didn't have to worry about what Jon was doing when he was out with Craig- it was always clean-cut fun.
One of the things I most enjoyed about Craig was the boyish joy he and my husband shared together. They were both RC (radio-controlled) car enthusiasts with a competitive nature that got quite expensive. They spent many Saturday mornings filling up on a large breakfast at my apartment and then heading off to race on a dirt track. There is something really sweet about grown men on a dirty track playing with... well... toys, so I often spent my Saturday mornings there watching them.
Craig was raised Catholic, but as many youths do, he had fallen away from church attendance and teachings. Meanwhile, Jon and I were exploring deeper into sharing our Christian faith. We had started a Bible Study that we held in our apartment every Wednesday evening, with the attraction of a home-cooked meal, to make inviting friends easier. We had never invited Craig. So often I have found that I have doubted God's capabilities of reaching out to hearts that are so much more willing to hear than I have thought them to be.
One Wednesday as several of us were just sitting down to dinner, one of the attendants, Nikki, received a phone call from Craig. She told him she was having dinner at our house and that he should come over. She never mentioned a Bible Study. I panicked that Craig was going to feel "tricked" into coming to a Bible study and would feel uneasy, yet obligated to stay. At my urging, Nikki called him back and "warned" him of what he was walking into. By the time she had called him back, he was already in the parking lot, undoubtedly because free food was being offered.
He stayed for Bible study and made no indication of being uncomfortable. He participated a lot in the discussion, with many objections. It was clear that Craig had been struggling with the truths of the Bible and was wondering if it could be the infallible word of God. When he left, Jon and I prayed for him and that God would wipe away his doubts and renew his faith. The following week we apprehensively invited him and he came. Craig was entirely different this time, even proclaiming at one point, "That's the cool thing about the Bible!"
From that time on, Craig regularly attended our Bible study and we had the pleasure of watching his faith grow so much in that little time. I remember him telling me, "Katie, I'm so happy now."
I do not know why five years ago today Craig was in a motorcycle accident that took his life. I do know why he called Nikki that night of our Bible study. Simply put, I had a lot of plans for Craig that God did not. I had planned on Craig marrying a wonderful girl that I would approve of, having children that would grow up with mine, and my children adoring him as much as I did. God's plan for Craig that night was to renew his faith and give us all an assurance of where he is today, in the loving arms of His God. If Craig had died before attending our Bible study my pain today would be much different. I would not have this certainty of Craig smiling down on us as we remember him today and always, and looking forward to the day when we are reunited in Heaven.
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